"Christ, Jake, that's over a hundred points loss in the past week. You sure I shouldn't sell? This is killing me, Jake!"
"C. T., I'm gonna be honest with you. I really don't know how to advise you. I think you're going to have to use your instincts on this."
"Jake, what the hell am I paying you for? I've lost over fifty thousand since that bunch of cowboys started their drive for secession. I listened to you, Jake. You said it would never happen! Now the Dow is falling towards the 1800 mark. The damn thing is down over a thousand points! What the hell am I supposed to do?"
"I don't think the Dow is going below 1600, C. T. You have to look at this thing logically. The NAU is not going to nationalize the companies owned by easterners. They would invite a military attack if they did something like that. The one thing those bastards need right now is our tolerance and our forbearance. They are still businessmen just like before. When all this settles down, you can expect the Dow to move back where it was. You remember the panic in '87 when the damn thing fell four hundred points in one day. Remember that it turned out to be programmed selling that triggered it. I think you ought to hang in there. It will recover in time."
"You better be right, Jake. You damn well better be right. I've stayed with this thing on your advice. If I take a bath on this one, well, it just better not happen."
C.T. smashed down the phone, ending the conversation. Jake reached for the antacid tablets and gulped them down with a glass of water. "For God's sake," thought Jake. "Suppose I'm wrong about this. I have no idea what those people out in Seattle will come up with. What if they do nationalize the holdings of the large companies? What will the government do about it? How far will the Dow fall? Maybe I should have told all my clients to sell as soon as the states out there started voting for secession." Jake was clearly a man trying to come to grips with the events of the last few months, as were most of the people east of the Mississippi river.
In spite of the initial interest and acceptance by people of the East, a growing fear was replacing this tolerance. Suddenly it was becoming clear that the actions of the western states and provinces were going to have a profound economic effect on the East. People tolerate many things in the name of fairness, but rarely do they accept financial endangerment with a sense of evenness. The phone rang again, snapping Jake back to reality. It was his wife calling. "Jake, I'm going to have to try to get gas again today. I really have to drive over to Sharon and see Mom. How do the lines look today?"
The gas lines were a replay of the 1973 Arab oil embargo that nearly had crippled the country. The lines were longer now, thanks to increased cars and trucks on the road. The oil companies had taken quick action to first raise prices, then followed that with announcements of shortages of gasoline throughout the country.
"They're about the same. Try Lloyd's station over on Hadly Street. He told me yesterday that he would have an adequate supply until the end of the week."
"I hope so, Jake. I haven't seen Mom since last week and I'm worried about her. She can't stay in line at a gas station. She might be there for hours and get light-headed and need her medicine."
"Honey, I can't do anything about the gas lines. I've got all the problems I can handle right here. I've got investors who are about ready to throw me in the Charles river---or worse."
"I know, Jake. You try to relax today. It isn't your fault that those idiots out West revolted. Why should your investors blame you?"
"You don't understand, Honey. I should have seen this coming. I should have told my people to sell as soon as they started talking about secession. Mike Concini saw it coming. He got his investors out early."
"Mike is an asshole, Jake. Why torture yourself worrying about what he did?"
"Why? Because he got his investors out. Even if he is an asshole, he knew what he should do, and I didn't. I gotta go, Honey. I'll see you tonight. I don't know what time I'll be home." Vicki Bream hung up the phone. She was really worried about Jake. He had become increasingly irritable since the market had begun to slide. His investors were hounding him. He hadn't slept well for over a month. Irritations like the gas shortage were not helping matters, either. Now she had to drive over to Sharon and check on her mother. She had no idea how long she would have to wait in line for gas. "Why didn't those damn westerners just leave things as they were?" she thought to herself. She picked up her purse and started for the front door, dreading the drive across town and the wait in line for gas. She wondered to herself why she had let Jake talk her into trading off the little Sentra for this godawful, gas guzzling station wagon.
C. T. Hodges, after the phone call with Jake, left his office and drove towards the coffee shop where he and his friends had a mid morning break. These breaks were becoming longer and decidedly more heated since the events of the summer had unfolded. Most of his friends were in the same mood as himself, unsure of what was to happen, confused. C. T. Hodges owned a computer software firm, one of the many such companies in the Boston area. He was not wealthy by any definition, but he was comfortable. He lived in a nice four bedroom house, owned a Mercedes and a Mazda Miata. His two kids attended private schools. His wife did not have to work but she did, as she said, "Just to get out of the damned house and see what people are doing." And he had over a hundred and fifty thousand dollars invested in the stock market, of which one third had already been wiped out.
As he parked the car, C. T. looked around the parking lot for the cars driven by his friends, Rich's Olds, Sid's Volvo, Murry's vintage Mustang. He spotted only two of them, but decided that the others were probably there, too. He was too busy dodging other cars to look too closely. He locked the car and entered the small coffee shop. He saw Rich, Sid, Murry and another man he did not recognize. He walked briskly over to the table.
"Morning, gentlemen. How's everybody doing today?"
"Well, as good as can be expected," answered Sid. "I'd like you to meet Mark Abbott. He rode over with me today. He just opened a business next to our office and I thought I'd invite him along."
"Hi, Mark. What line of business you in? You must know something we don't know. These are uncertain times right now."
"Well, I'm in the trucking business, or was. I sold the business earlier this year, retired for a few months and decided the easy life was not for me. So I opened a travel agency. My wife had always wanted to do that, so she actually runs the business. I just hang around so I can have an office and something to do."
"We already told Mark what the ground rules were for our morning coffee break. If you make a million on the stock market, you lie and say you lost ten thousand. That way it makes everybody feel better," said Rich.
"Most of us wouldn't have to lie too much, now would we. The past few months have been a disaster. I just talked to my broker before coming over here. He's a hell of a nice guy, but he's even more confused than I am. He tells me I have to 'follow my instincts.' What the hell does that mean?"
"Maybe it means to hang him up by his heels. My broker is telling me about the same thing. I gotta be fair about this though. Nothing in recent history would have prepared anyone for the events of the past few months. Who would have predicted that the western states and Canada would pull something like this off? Why didn't I see it when they met out in Denver early in the summer? Then that damn riot down in Washington. The government almost came to a screeching halt in July." Murry was motioning for the waitress to refill his cup as he spoke. "Mark, how is the travel business these days? Nobody I know has traveled for months."
"Not too bad, really. We specialize in tours by Europeans."
"You mean tours to Europe?" Rich seemed puzzled by Mark's answer.
"No, no. I mean we arrange tours of the US for Europeans, mostly British and Germans. We arrange extended tours of the West by bus. They land at Los Angeles, travel to Las Vegas, the Grand Canyon, Arizona, Utah. I got the idea while in the trucking business. A lot of our routes were through the West to California. The truckers used to talk about the foreig
n tourists they saw."
"Well, I'll be damned. I never thought of Europeans coming over here. I thought only we traveled to Europe. So actually this political turn may work to your advantage?"
"I don't think it will hurt business. Europeans are much more laid back by political events than we are. They're used to upheaval and change. It doesn't really bother them. In fact, many of them will be looking for business opportunities out there. They're pretty pragmatic, you know."
"You know, Mark, you just gave me an idea," said C. T., as he stirred his coffee. "From what I can figure out, those guys out west are going to rely heavily on computer networks to tie their government apparatus together. They've got some kind of arrangement where various agencies are to be located in different states. They're going to need a lot of systems help, aren't they? Why shouldn't I take a stab at that contract?"
"No reason that I can think of. Your firm has a solid reputation throughout the country. You might as well make some money off this screwup."
"C.T., my wife and I are going to fly out to Denver next week. Why don't you go with us to see if you can talk to some people out there. The governmental committee is headquartered there. I may even know some people that you could talk to," offered Mark. "It wouldn't hurt to try to make a contact."
"You got a deal, Mark. I'll make some arrangements this afternoon. Give me your business card so I can call you." C.T. had almost forgotten the losses he had taken in the market. He felt the old fire in himself, the same fire that had propelled him to a leading position in the software market.
As Vicki Bream turned the corner to Lloyd's station, she could see a line of cars that extended to the very corner she was trying to negotiate. "Oh, shit," she muttered to herself. "Looks like an hour wait, if I'm lucky." Vicki rounded the corner and turned the ignition off in her station wagon. "No need to waste what little gas I have left," she thought to herself. She unconsciously leaned to her right and grabbed the knitting that she had been working on. It had served her well in the past while waiting in line for gas.
The scene which included Vicki Bream was being played out all over the east, from Kansas City to New York and from St. Paul to Miami. Gas lines formed in Davenport, Iowa and Macon, Georgia. Business men and women spent their afternoon coffee breaks discussing the economic conditions which resulted from the secession of the West. The shrewdest ones looked for opportunities to turn a profit. The majority of the people, dependent on their jobs for their well being, were simply confused, suffering from a kind of anxiety and a sense of foreboding. Their brothers, parents, uncles and cousins were suddenly citizens of a foreign country. What would it all mean? What would happen to taxes, to their Social Security retirement? Would they still be able to travel to Colorado, to Las Vegas? Would they have to exchange currency as they would if going to Mexico?
The government of the US was doing little to allay the fears of the people left in its books of citizenry. Many thought this was a plan by the US government to cause outrage by the people of the East. If enough outrage was vented, it was theorized, perhaps somehow the westerners would come to their senses and return to the fold. The fact was, however, the government of the US simply had not formulated a plan to deal with the North American Union. The US government was in disarray. The House and Senate had lost a sizeable portion of its membership. Whole agencies and branches of agencies were swallowed up by the NAU, because they were located west of the Mississippi river. Tax revenues and FICA receipts were being syphoned off by the new nation, money the government desperately needed to operate its gargantuan machinery.
But by the end of November people in the East began to realize that the world had not ended. They began to see the oil shortage for what it was, a contrivance by the petroleum companies to root out even more profits from the American driver. When it became clear to the oil companies that their plan wouldn't work, aided by a gentle nudge from the President, prices of gas slowly returned to pre summer levels and the shortages miraculously disappeared.
Jake Bream was right about the stock market. It did not reach the 1600 level. After teasing the 1700 level for a few weeks, it showed a steady climb back to the 2300 range. C. T. Hodges did not hang Jake by his heels. He was too busy making arrangements to travel out west for the third time to finalize a proposal to the new government for a turnkey system for networking software. Denver, as it turned out, was not such a bad place after all, decided C. T. He thought he might even plan a skiing trip this winter. He might even be able to write it off his taxes.
Chapter XIV
The First Year of the NAU
Tom Adams, Sam Brouchet, Hal Browning and Bill McKay sat down around the large conference table in Adams's office. Tom had called them together to discuss the task which lay before them. "Sam, I have to tell you, I liked the way you handled the US President last week over the troop buildup. Our sources now know that it was in the form of a bluff so he could test our preparedness and our military apparatus. Apparently there was never any evil intent on his part. But then, we didn't know that at the time, did we?" asked Tom, still trying to satisfy himself that Sam had not exposed them all to grave danger.
"I didn't really mean to leave any of you out on a limb with my dialogue with their President, but I just had a feeling he had overstepped his power by a wide margin. He pissed me off," said Sam in his succinct, inimitable way.
"Jeffries told me later that he had his finger on the 'silent' button, just in case you pissed him off," said Tom with measured affability.
"Yeah, I could see he was getting a little nervous," said Sam, "but you know, I didn't feel that Dan Wolf was ready to stand up just yet. I was actually, in a way, speaking for him and the air national guard units out here. They are 'top guns', no doubt about it. But any way, if I didn't know the president as well as I do, I would have let Browning or you handle it, Tom. I have to remember that the US is a foreign country. That'll take a little getting used to."
"Well, any way, that comment about a turkey shoot on I70 may make the US think before they run troops around on our borders. I thought they were way out of line with that posturing. They can save that for the Iraqis," said Tom by way of ending that phase of the discussion.
"Gentlemen, there is no Legislative Assembly Building, no capitol building, no 'White House' for the President or Premier. The new departments do not have homes in their scattered locations across the our country," said Adams to open the meeting.
"Well, things could be worse," joked Sam. "It could be snowing." Adams at first frowned at Sam, then broke into a broad smile.
"I think we should begin by purchasing an existing home in Seattle for the Premier and the President. There are some lovely old estates here. If need be they could be renovated, brought up to date with security systems," McKay proposed.
"Why not. We can't wait for homes to be built. I think that's a great idea, Bill," Browning concurred.
"Sure, we could also convert buildings that belonged to the US government into NAU federal buildings. We could hire former civil servants of the US who are already here for employment opportunities with the new government. We'd have to offer them much lower salaries than they were accustomed to," said Sam.
"Good idea, Sam. What do you all see as the next priority item?"
"We've got to address the problem of a national banking system. We need to do something to nationalize the trust funds that we've been accumulating since we separated. We could open the Bank of the North American Union in Dallas," said McKay.
"You mean to transfer those accounts from those banks in Denver which had been managing the escrow tax accounts?" asked Tom.
"Exactly."
"I'll contact Carol Osteen today and direct her to make it happen," said Adams, referring to the Treasurer designate. "We know where the various departments will call home. We have the directives of the convention to guide us. I'd sure like to see Mitch Elliot in charge of the task of setting up those departments. Would anybody object to that?" Adams saw no nega
tive reaction. Everyone around the table was by now fully convinced of Elliot's abilities as an organizer.
Tom Adams called his first cabinet meeting on the 10th of December in Seattle. He had moved there after the elections and occupied a lovely old mansion which had been built in the 1870's. It was large enough to accommodate ten security guards who were to protect the new Premier. His wife did not join him. They talked about this prior to his leaving for Seattle. "Susan, I need to know what your plans are regarding our move to the new capital. It's going to look a little suspicious if you don't join me."
"Tom, I really haven't made up my mind. There's nothing for me in Seattle. I don't know anyone up there. All my friends are in Colorado."
"Good God, Susan, for once in your life can't you make a sacrifice for the good of the country? Can't you do it for me and my career? This is an historic time. People have made sacrifices all over the west for this moment."
"Tom, I've stayed with you for your career and for the kids for all these years. I'm tired of making sacrifices just to please you. If you want an answer, I'll give it to you. I'm not going to Seattle." With that, she turned on her heels and walked out of the room.
Tom sighed and resigned himself to the decision. For the prior five years they had become increasingly estranged. Their lives had been guided in opposite directions, he to the demands of politics and she to the social whirl of Denver and the west. They had shared the Governor's house in Denver out of convenience and appearance. She had been his hostess for dinners and parties as the wife of the Governor, but they had shared neither bed nor conversation during those years. He was relieved that she would remain in Denver.
Robert Hall Jeffries was moved into another old stone mansion, purchased from the owner for 350,000 dollars. It would be renovated to include the necessary electronic and security equipment required for the head of state. His wife Elizabeth, unlike Tom's wife, did move with him from Manitoba. They were the darlings of the Seattle social set, a reflection of their happy marriage and schooling in the social graces. They hosted a state dinner barely two weeks after their arrival. At that dinner they welcomed the new Japanese ambassador whom he had received the previous week in a special ceremony in Jeffries' office. Also present were George Brazleton, Tom Adams, Bill McKay, Sam Brouchet and Hal Browning among the over 100 guests.
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