Martial Lawless (Calm Act Book 3)

by Ginger Booth

  “I rather think I do,” Sean said dangerously.

  “If I may, sir,” Emmett cut in. “I think we have good plans for north Jersey. It’ll work. One of the key components is building settlements for retiring service members. People who want to muster out. They’ll strengthen the militia backbone. Meanwhile organize civilian work details. Restore wetlands. Raze substandard housing, decrepit communities, disrupt the inner city ghettos. Especially around Newark and Trenton.”

  Pete finished off his bourbon, and slid the heavy tumbler away in finality. He nodded. “It’ll work. Not all that different from what we’ve done in the Apple Core.”

  I stared at the glass and thought of ‘death angel markers,’ and Canber’s insistence that Emmett needed to ask, to solve Jersey. Canber wouldn’t do it for him, unless he asked. No, that wouldn’t go over well with Pete Hoffman. Sean Cullen wouldn’t approve at all. Of all the Calm Act military governors, Sean was the most eager to declare the population culling over, forever, good riddance and never to return. Standing by while New York City died had been more ‘culling’ than the man could take.

  Pete sighed. “We’ll get started on that right away. I believe Emmett has preliminary drawings. Shall we adjourn to the office?”

  “After a fifteen minute break,” Sean agreed. He drew Pete away into our drippy garden for a tongue-lashing. I doubt Sean learned much. Pete just stood mute and took it. I hoped the bourbon fortified him. The other Rescos shot uneasy glances outside through the French doors, and at Emmett, but didn’t comment.

  Emmett slipped his arms around my waist at the kitchen sink-island. I was filling some water pitchers to bring into the office. “You alright with this plan, darlin’? I’d try to come home most weekends – home here – and talk to you every day. Like Project Reunion again. I’ll start with Newark.” Newark was the next town west from Jersey-borough, across Newark Bay. Before the epidemic, Newark was the largest city in Jersey, almost entirely poor non-white inner city. “Could come home during the week some nights. But North Jersey’s a hell-hole now. You don’t belong there.”

  I knew that. Alone of the Rescos here, Pete Hoffman was still bogged down in a shooting war, fighting gangs and insurrection in south Jersey. North Jersey, still barricaded in by the epidemic borders to north and south, and barred from the Apple Core, was a war zone, too. With some rural land to produce food, and charity shipments, their situation had never been as dire as in the Apple Core, the now-six boroughs of New York City. But the locals were shooting each other over food and everything else. Not much order had been re-established yet. Emmett had been studying the situation since we returned from Penn, and visited a couple times.

  “I understand,” I said. I looked Emmett in the eye. “Really.” I tapped one of his silver oak leaves, that had replaced his temporary eagle. “I’ll see what I can do about suppressing the press. Until Jersey looks prettier.”

  “Thank you, darlin’,” he said sadly. “Maybe in spring we could find a nice place with a garden out there. If things calm down.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe. I’m good here.” The ghosts of New York lay quietly now. I wondered how long it would take before Jersey stopped feeling haunted to me.

  -o-

  One of the things that came up during the conference was salary for me and mine. PR News. Amenac. The meshnet programming team on Long Island. My friend Reza on satellite intelligence. My latest project for an online distributor clearinghouse for the city’s warehouses full of salvage. The gleam in my eye for a match-making service to place retiring soldiers in communities. Governor Sean Cullen was shocked that all these projects were bankrolled by Emmett and Cam, and told Pete Hoffman to deal with it.

  My projects weren’t entirely bankrolled by them. We had other sponsors. Like Canadian Intelligence, and whoever funded Homeland Security, and possibly others Emmett didn’t tell me about. But we didn’t complicate the discussion with that.

  Emmett’s point was that his princely salary, and Cam’s and Ash’s, were intended for seed capital for bootstrapping new private industries. And they’d done well with those companies. But in practice they’d funded arguably public enterprises as well. The private startups either failed or succeeded, but didn’t continue drawing salaries. The successful quasi-public operations kept sucking down more and more of their salaries.

  Tony shook his head. “I never used my discretionary funds on the power grid. Couldn’t if I tried – it cost too much. Obviously a public good all along. So we bankrolled it on the state from the start. Charge New England, too.”

  Pete nodded. “Yeah, same in Jersey. And with feeding the Apple Zone, and all the specialized skills we hired. We pay the engineers out of public funds. Dee’s got a mixed bag here, though. The meshnet is clear, at least. Hudson should assume that expense.

  “Amenac and PR News are more complicated. If New England isn’t one of your sponsors, Dee, it should be. PR News is in New England. Hudson is home to IndieNews. For better or worse. If we fund PR News, we ought to fund both, or give even more to Indie.” He looked at me apologetically.

  “So you think I should wean off Amenac and PR News?” Emmett said unhappily. “Make them seek other sponsors to replace my funding?”

  “Not a chance,” Cam said. “We get huge benefits from them. Amenac powers the meshnet, our weather reports, Resco coordination. No question that they do other things besides supporting Hudson. But they also have other sponsors. I say we continue funding them, even expand their funding. Giving Indie some funds couldn’t hurt. Might sweeten them up a little.” He looked doubtful on that point.

  “This past month,” I put in, “we’ve collaborated with IndieNews for the first time. And the results have been excellent. On a personal level, I owe them my life. And we did fund them in Pittsburgh, and for the Halloween special yesterday. I like Pete’s suggestion of funding IndieNews, too.”

  “Owe them your life?” Cam inquired.

  “Let’s not go there,” Emmett interrupted. “But I agree with Cam. I don’t want to cut off funding, unless I’ve secured alternate funding. That’s what I’m hoping to do here. I can just keep paying Dee and her teams for all this –”

  “You only just started paying Dee,” I growled. Cam already looked mutinous on the lack of explanation on owing Indie my life. His glower deepened at the news that Emmett hadn’t been paying me.

  “Uh-huh,” said Emmett. “So, fine. Cam, Ash, would you be willing to split salary for Dee and Reza? We’re the ones who use them most.”

  “Whoa,” Pete interrupted. “I hadn’t got there yet, Emmett. I think there may be a class of…pseudo-Resco. Resco staff positions, maybe. I mean, Dee doesn’t lead a community or coordinate Army resources. But she serves other Resco-like functions. She’s usually included in our meetings, and I’m glad she is. I wouldn’t mind if Tony and I felt we could call on her services, too.”

  I probably looked worried at that. Pete smiled. “Sometimes, Dee. You could beg off if you’re too busy. What I’m thinking, is maybe pay Dee a Resco’s discretionary fund and let her figure it out. A small pile, maybe 25 meal tickets? I don’t know what Emmett was paying you.”

  “Two,” I said shortly.

  “Dump the cad, and I’ll pay you ten,” Cam pounced immediately. “Emmett, what the hell were you thinking?”

  “I’d take that action,” Ash volunteered with a grin. “But you’re here in the city, Dee,” he wheedled. “You want to focus your projects here, not way out on the Island. Too inconvenient. Work for me, not Cam.”

  “Can it, guys,” Pete quashed the ribbing. “I’ll pay her. Out of Hudson funds, not mine. And being paid by her fiancé – no. Not a good idea. Dee, is 25 meal tickets enough for now? That’s in addition to the meshnet team and PR News and Indie. Those get public funding too, but not out of your budget. Or Emmett’s.”

  I could feel my eyes glow. “Yes! Thank you, Pete!”

  “Uh-huh,” growled Emmett. “So all I get is ‘cad’ for negotiating this,
huh?”

  “How much do you pay the housekeeper, Emmett?” Cam inquired dryly.

  “Gladys gets one and a half,” I supplied. “Plus room and board. Cad.”

  “Cad,” Cam agreed, with a grin at Emmett. “How you get such good results from women is beyond me, Emmett.”

  “Dee, you’ll report to me for book-keeping purposes.” The ranking Resco Pete Hoffman doggedly continued his lonely path on the high road. “And referee as needed.” He glanced around the other Rescos to suggest they not attract his attention as referee. “Monthly and quarterly budget forecasts and actuals, separate salaries and hardware, the usual. I’ll supply you the paperwork when you need to complete it. You’ve managed a good-sized budget and staff before, yes?”

  I nodded assurance. “I managed up to twelve million at UNC.”

  Emmett appeared to be having a d’oh moment. Yes, Emmett, of course I’ve managed a serious budget before. A pittance compared to the ruinous sucking pit of an Army brigade, but still. Responsible people trusted me with money.

  “Uh-huh,” Emmett said contritely. “Congratulations on your raise, darlin’. I thought you were OK with the two meal tickets.”

  “Not so much,” I said. “I lied.”

  Chapter 31

  Interesting fact: Pittsburgh lay in the Marcellus Shale fields, producing natural gas by fracking. This natural gas was crucial to supplying power and heat to Hudson and New England while they continued conversion to renewable energy. Pennsylvania and West Virginia also supplied coal, but the Hudson Rescos refused to use coal.

  “Emmett, your written recommendations were silent on the super-structure of Penn’s Resco forces,” General Schwabacher of Ohio pointed out from the big screen. “Let’s start there.”

  We took time out of the Hudson Resco conference to hold the final video post mortem on the Pittsburgh assignment. Emmett had asked for time to write up his final report, and for Lt. Colonel Drumpeter to settle in and begin implementing the plans they’d brainstormed while he was in Pittsburgh. Emmett’s commander Colonel Pete Hoffman, Hudson’s Governor-General Sean Cullen, and new Colonel Tony Nasser joined Emmett and me in our office for the video conference. General Link of New England again elected to delegate to his ranking Resco, Coast Guard Captain John Niedermeyer, a peer to Hudson’s full Colonels. Penn’s military governor Seth Taibbi and the new Resco of Pittsburgh, Caroline Drumpeter, joined us by video, as did the IBIS agents Kalnietis and Gianetti.

  The putative top Resco of Pennsylvania, Colonel Schneider, was again conspicuously absent. Schneider hadn’t been invited to one of these meetings yet.

  “Yes, sir,” Emmett agreed to Schwabacher. “I felt PA’s Resco structure was best handled verbally.” Emmett had drafted Penn-level recommendations several times, then edited them out of his official report. “By the way, sir, apparently Pennsylvanians consider ‘Penn’ a pejorative from the war. I’m trying to say ‘PA’ now.”

  “‘Penn’ is a pejorative from the war,” Schwabacher agreed. “Which they lost. Do you believe Penn should continue as a state, Colonel MacLaren, or be divided between Ohio and Hudson, is the question.”

  Emmett took a drink of water to stall for time. Perhaps he hoped Penn’s General Taibbi, or even his own Governor-General Cullen, to step in and say that call was above Emmett’s pay grade. Alas, they waited.

  Emmett sighed, and proceeded. “I do have recommendations. PA is three separate regions at this point, without much common feeling or shared identity. The western tier, Pittsburgh and the three Resco districts to its north, is cohesive. And will grow more cohesive under the leadership of Colonel Drumpeter, as we agreed. There is a problem Resco in the southwest corner. Let’s get back to that.

  “The eastern tier, dominated by Philadelphia, with Harrisburg and Scranton to the west, is fairly well-run and coherent. Between these two organized areas is a big swath of lightly populated counties in the middle, with no remaining Resco. They’re not really under martial law.”

  “They pay taxes,” General Taibbi suggested.

  Emmett wobbled his head yes and no. “They bring produce to market. My read is more of a detente with the border garrisons along the edges – feed the soldiers and don’t get attacked. In the middle, people trade produce for electric power.”

  “You said ‘no remaining Resco’, Emmett?” Governor Cullen prompted.

  “Major Canton Bertovich was the assigned Resco in the middle of this unorganized area, sir,” Emmett replied. “Had four counties assigned to him, around State College.”

  “Oh,” Hudson’s Cullen acknowledged. “Him.”

  Emmett had reported that Canber and the Judgment sect were Dane Beaufort’s killers during a meeting while I was in West Virginia. Today they didn’t reopen that topic.

  “My recommendation at this time,” Emmett continued, “is to leave all that be, and leave it as PA. General Taibbi has been cooperative and open to suggestion. I don’t believe PA poses any current threat to Hudson, Ohio, or Virginia–Del–Mar.”

  “Thank you,” General Taibbi said forcefully.

  “But I do have suggestions, sir,” Emmett said. “First, I believe Colonel Schneider is not suited to head PA’s Rescos.”

  “Amen,” agreed the three attending O-6 level Rescos – Pete Hoffman, John Niedermeyer, and Tony Nasser – Schneider’s peers.

  Colonel Pete Hoffman expanded on that. “Sir, Emmett asked me to vet his suggested replacement, Lieutenant Colonel Sandoval in Philadelphia. I’ve worked with Diego Sandoval extensively since the war. I highly recommend him. A bit young in grade for promotion to O-6, but that can wait. Good leader, fine mentor. Creative. Philly was a hell of an assignment. The other Rescos there look to him, like him, trust him. I believe their results in Philly were as good or better than could be hoped.”

  “Philly is a hell-hole,” Taibbi noted sadly.

  “Yes, sir,” Pete agreed. “But it’s under control and improving. For a city that size, that’s a miracle.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Emmett said to Pete. “So my suggestion is to have Sandoval head the PA Rescos. Our detailed recommendations would be better addressed with Sandoval, if you agree to appoint him, General Taibbi. But the key is that we suggest both he, and you, meet with your lead Rescos in person, several times a year. This may be a cultural difference between Army and Air Force, sir. But it’s unnatural for a mid-level Army officer to be left alone, holding the bag.”

  Caroline Drumpeter nodded vehemently. The O-6’s nodded in solidarity.

  “Colonel Drumpeter will do the job for you, sir,” Emmett continued to Taibbi. “I have every confidence. But she’ll do better – PA will do better – with regular skin-to-skin contact. She needs your personal support. I hope that you and Colonel Sandoval visit Pittsburgh. See the people. Spend a night in the tornado shelters. Feel the tornado sirens thrumming in your bones. It’s a gut-level thing. Please, sir. You can’t delegate leadership. You need to model it in person. And embrace the Army as your own.”

  “Good suggestions,” Taibbi said humbly. “I thought it was better to let the Army lead its own. But if it’s my Army, then, you’re right. I need to get more hands-on. I’m not sure I can spare Sandoval from Philly, though.”

  Pete Hoffman shook his head. “With respect, sir. Sandoval is where he needs to be. Less than fifty miles from me, for the same reasons. He’ll tell you when he needs to be somewhere else. He has to be a hands-on Resco himself. Head Resco just adds organizational duties. And most important, mentoring. No Resco in Hudson is without someone to call on for advice, a higher authority, or just a second opinion. No bad Resco falls through the cracks. There is a plan, and we help each other. That’s my job as head Resco. Sandoval knows the score. And he’s welcome to call me or Tony Nasser any time. Just like we call John Niedermeyer.”

  No one brought up the possibility of Emmett taking the head Resco role in Penn. From which I surmised that Cullen had already informed the other generals that Emmett’s decision was made. He was
staying with Hudson.

  “Cooperation is life or death to the Resco model,” Ohio’s Charles Schwabacher concurred. He pursed his lips in consideration. “What say you, Sean? Are you buying this from your Rescos?”

  Governor Sean Cullen shrugged. “My Rescos are the best. I trust them. As for splitting Penn, hell, Charles. I need Philly like I need a hole in the head. And then an unorganized border to the west? No thanks. You think you can do better than Emmett’s scheme for Pittsburgh?”

  “No,” Schwabacher agreed promptly. “I would like followup, however. What say you, Seth? Are you willing to implement these suggestions? And review progress in one year?”

  Seth Taibbi appeared to consider this high-handed. With ill grace, he nodded. “Agreed. Sandoval top Resco. Visit Pittsburgh in person at least twice, both of us.” Sourly, he added, “And review progress in one year.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Emmett said gracefully. “I think you’ll be pleased with the results. And General Schwabacher? One year from now, I think Colonel Drumpeter may be ready to revisit the Ohio-Pittsburgh re-industrialization plans. Drum?”

  Drum nodded with enthusiasm. “Looking forward to that, sir,” she assured Schwabacher. “Civilian morale is already improving. In a year, I think we’ll be ready to make real commitments.” Schwabacher pursed his lips, but nodded agreement.

  “Civilian morale is improving,” Sean Cullen echoed skeptically. “Because you confiscated their guns and inflicted penance? Punished all the churches?”

  “Yes, sir,” Drum assured him. “Penance is good for the soul. It’s necessary, I think, to formally regret prior actions. Leaves people free to follow a new path.”

  “That may be more of a Midwestern outlook, sir,” Emmett suggested. “Might need a different approach in Hudson or New England. But our little round of good cop, bad cop should be plenty to get Pittsburgh back in line.”

  “I’d hate to see your idea of a big round of bad cop, Emmett,” Cullen replied, but conceded the point. “Leaving theology out of it, do you think this disarmament would work in Hudson? Like Jersey.”