The Powers of the Earth (Aristillus Book 1)

by Travis J I Corcoran

  Javier reached them. "What's up?"

  "Javier, this is Neil. Says he's got a crew of electricians just off the boat from Australia. They're all looking for work."

  "Actually, I was just looking for a job for myself,” Matthew said.

  Javier waved it off. "How many men total?"

  "Well, there's a dozen of us, but -"

  "There are three conductors in a three-phase wire, right?"

  "Well, it's not that simple -"

  "Sure it is. True or false!"

  Matthew looked at Kaspar the crew chief for guidance but the other man was just leaning against a metal wall stud, watching the show. Matthew blinked. "That's a trick question. Depends if it's grounded or not. It comes in three-wire and four-wire configur-"

  "I need 220 from a three-phase line - I can use a phase inverter. What are other options?"

  "Uh..." He racked his brain "...it's not recommended, but you can use a three phase motor and just connect two of the -"

  "You're making a ninety degree bend in ten centimeter conduit...". Javier fired off more questions, and Matthew answered each in turn.

  Finally Javier nodded once, turned and left without a word.

  Dewitt looked at Kaspar. "What the hell was that?"

  The crew chief smiled. "Your whole team is hired. You start at seven AM tomorrow, right here. Bring your tools."

  "Hired? Wait - uh -.” Matthew reached into his pocket and fished out hard copies of his the occupational work papers, skill certification records and work permit and held them out to Kaspar.

  The crew chief laughed. "You're new here; no one gives a shit about that stuff. Show up tomorrow, get the job done, and get it done right and you'll work out OK."

  Dewitt blinked and put the documents away. It looked like the DoD had called in chits with Labor and OSHA for nothing.

  The foreman started to turn but Matthew stopped him. "Wait - that Javier guy - is he the lead electrician?"

  The other man snorted. "Electrician? No, he's the president."

  * * *

  Dewitt flipped on the jammer and then turned back to the room. His men were spread across two couches and several chairs, with a few more sitting on the floor.

  Explaining the situation and asking for feedback wasn't normal in the Army - at least, it hadn't been for the last few decades. Still, Dewitt believed in it. And so did the kind of men he'd recruited for his team. "I got a job offer - for all of us."

  "Same with me," Sergeant Sanderfur said. "I got two offers, actually. Both of them asked if I had any friends on the boat."

  Sergeant Harbert nodded. "Same here."

  Sergeant Lummus tilted his head. "Plan was to have us spread out to different firms. We gather more information that way. Nothing's changed, has it?"

  Captain Dewitt nodded thoughtfully. "One thing has. Remember the name 'Javier Borda'?"

  "Yeah, of course," Harbert said. "One of the CEOs. His name was in the seized phone."

  "Briefing book says he's a friend of Martin's, and he's forming a militia too," Lummus added.

  Harbert shrugged. "What's the big deal? We all applied at places where the CEOs are connected - that's why we picked them."

  Dewitt nodded. "True. But in the case of Javier - I met him today."

  "You met him?"

  "Yeah. Turns out he's pretty hands-on with his people - "

  "We've got to focus on that," Sergeant Lummus blurted out.

  Dewitt nodded. "My thought exactly. Since Javier's close to the center of all of this, I think it makes sense to have more than one of us at First Class Homes and Offices - say, me, Mahoney, and Vasquez, but everyone else should take jobs elsewhere."

  He looked around the room. "What do you guys think?"

  "Works me for, LT."

  "Me too."

  There were nods and murmurs of agreement from the whole room.

  "OK, let's do it."

  Chapter 71

  2064: Soldner Apartments office, Aristillus, Lunar Nearside

  Mike stepped into Mark Soldner's office. Mark looked up from a stack of paperwork, saw Mike and smiled. "Give me just one second?"

  Mike nodded and looked around. The place was nice - nicer than his own office, at least. Carpeting underfoot, a large walnut desk, three flags on the wall behind. Mike recognized the American flag, but the other two were new to him. The left one was white with blue stripes and a sunburst in the middle. The right one, though - he tilted his head. It looked like an American flag, but all the red stripes were blue. Maybe some Revolutionary War thing?

  Mark signed the last sheet, and then stood up and extended a hand. "Sorry about that, Mike. Thanks for coming in."

  Mike stepped forward.

  OK. Be warm, be sincere, try to reach common ground.

  He stuck out his hand. "Always a pleasure, Mark."

  Mark smiled. "It's good to see you outside of the Boardroom and all the politics there. Have a seat, please."

  Mike sat. "I'll get to the point - "

  "The casino issue."

  Mike nodded. "Exactly. We're insuring them, and the damage you folks caused -"

  "Mike, let me cut to the chase. You and I agree that initiating violence isn't the right way to settle disputes, right?"

  Mike blinked. Was Mark going to apologize and pay up that easily? His day just got a lot better. "Right. So -"

  Mark held up a finger. "This wasn't our first protest - did you know that? We've been out there every Saturday for three months. But even after knowing how we feel - about our homes, about our community, they stayed in business."

  Mike's face clouded and his hope that this was going to be easy disappeared. "That's irrelevant, Mark."

  "No, it's very relevant."

  "The point is that you destroyed someone else's property."

  Mark shook his head. "We did a little damage, but it was symbolic. The important thing, though, is that we did it only after the casino started things."

  Mike narrowed his eyes. "Started things?"

  "High Deseret was a decent neighborhood before the casino moved in, and -"

  "High Deseret? You mean Little Salt Lake?"

  Mark smiled tightly. "We don't call it that - we find it a touch patronizing. But, yes, we're referring to the same portion of levels 3 and 4."

  Mike rolled his eyes, then remembered Javier's lectures. He cleared his throat. "Sorry. OK, I'll try to remember that term. But let's get the facts straight. The casino said you initiated the trouble, and as far as I can tell the video backs them up one hundred percent. Unless you're going to suggest that the casino started the violence -"

  "Absolutely I am. They ran a casino in an area where they weren't wanted. That disrupted an entire neighborhood. It's not physical damage, but the violence to the integrity of a community -"

  Mike closed his eyes for a moment. "Damn it, Mark -"

  He realized that Soldner was giving him a harsh look. Ah, crap. Mark liked swearing even less than Darcy did. OK. Charm school. "Excuse me. But you're twisting terms if you're calling that 'violence.’ You know that's not the way it works. If your people don't want to patronize the casino, fine. But if the casino is paying the rent on their space, then they've got a right to be there. Organize a boycott if you want, but you can't go smashing up their space."

  Mark templed his fingers and leaned back. After a moment, "Mike, you're against overreaching government, and I respect that. I'm on the same page...but your definition of liberty is too narrow." He looked Mike in the eye. "You know, I read copies of your interviews in Forbes, back before they were redacted, and I know where you're coming from. But it's not just individuals who have rights. Communities have rights too -"

  "Mark -"

  Mark raised a hand. "Let me finish. What about a child's right to walk down a sidewalk without being confronted with a half-naked prostitute? What about a parent's right to raise his or her children in an atmosphere where sex is something sacred between married people, and not a commodity advertised i
n a window? What about a wife's right to have her husband come home with his paycheck instead of losing it to a predatory gambling hall?"

  "Mark, I'm not interested in discussing your theories about -"

  "This isn't theory." He tapped his desk for emphasis. "This is real. You came to my office to discuss exactly this situation. You hard-core libertarians reduce freedom to just property rights and lack of political oppression - but there's more to the human morality and freedom than that. There's - wait, no, listen - this is science. Neurology. Mike, you care about individual liberty, property rights, and so on, and that's great, I agree with you - but there are more types of morality than that. A color-blind person might not be able to see the color green, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist. And just because there are some types of morality and freedom that don't mean much to you - things like caring for others, respecting authority, keeping sacred things -"

  Mike held up one hand. "Mark, forgive my bluntness, but you're right. I don't care. We can talk about your theory of morality later, but right now we need to talk about Leon's Poker House. Look, I'm not arguing in favor of gambling and prostitution."

  "Aren't you?"

  Mike started to roll his eyes but immediately caught himself. "No, I'm not. I don't have to approve of something to say that someone has as much right to run his business as you have to run yours."

  "You're not honestly comparing Leon's business and mine, are you? Whoring and gambling destroy families. Building houses and renting apartments helps build them."

  "I'm not talking about the moral equivalence."

  "But, Mike, you are. You're saying -"

  Mike felt his patience slipping and tried to claw it back. He leaned forward. "Mark, listen to me. I'm saying one thing, and one thing only - the casino has a right to exist. It pays its rent, it's not breaking any laws-

  "Laws? You're not talking about laws - real government laws - you're talking about regulations. Regulations from Trusted Security, or whoever. So Leon's not violating regulations? That might matter to someone, but not me. That place is certainly violating laws - God's laws and the laws of the community."

  Mike clenched his jaw. "Don't start complaining about the lack of government here, Mark. You knew what Aristillus was when you came here."

  "Wait -"

  "No, you wait! You knew that Aristillus was free of government when you came here - and now you're trying to form your own and force others to obey you! Aristillus is free of government whether you like it or not - and if you don't like it, you can go buy a TBM and dig your own tunnels. The moon is empty; pack up and leave."

  Mike had been all but yelling, but Mark just smiled and spoke soothingly. "Mike, we're not founding a government. Just a neighborhood committee. And, with all due respect for your accomplishments founding Aristillus, you're not king, you-"

  "Your damned right I'm not! No one is! That's my point."

  "Then why do you think you can dictate what other people can and can't do? If ninety-five percent of the people in this tunnel vote to have a neighborhood, then freedom means -"

  Mike felt his blood pressure rising. God damn this man. "Voting? Mob rule - that's the OPPOSITE of freedom. What if ninety-five percent of people voted to outlaw Mormonism?" He jabbed a finger at Mark. "That's not what Aristillus stands for."

  Mark put his hands up placatingly. "Aristillus is young - just ten years old. The people haven't yet decided what Aristillus is or isn't, what it stands for."

  "Damn it, Mark!" Mark's lips pursed; he was clearly offended by the language.

  Fuck him; he'd speak like he wanted to speak. "Mark, you read the FAQs before you booked passage here. You knew that this was an anarchy. When did you get here? Four years ago? Five? Lowell already had the newbs contract in place by the time you stepped off the boat at Lai Docks. You signed it, just like everyone else. I bet I can dig up a copy."

  "The world belongs to the living."

  "What sort of horseshit is that? You signed."

  Mark dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. "Things change. Situations change. People change. You went to public schools, right? I'll bet when you were a kid you recited the Pledge of Allegiance, right? And the One Environment Pledge, and the World Unity Promise? Every day, before attendance. And now you -"

  "That was when I was a kid. I had to.”

  Mark was infuriatingly calm. "Yes, you had to. You had no other alternative, because you were under duress. Well, Mike, refugees from Earth are under duress; they'll sign anything when they get here, just to get away from the unconstitutional godless governments back on Earth. And now that we're no longer under duress, people in my community are trying to lay down some reasonable ethical norms in our own neighborhoods. We have the right to establish governance -"

  Mike could feel the anger in his chest, like a physical force. "Not if you start pushing that government on others! And when you're smashing windows and overturning tables, you're doing exactly that."

  Mark sighed and sat back in his chair. "Mike, I give up. I thought I could talk sense with you, make you understand where our families are coming from, but I see I can't."

  "That's right, you can't." He balled one fist. "So let's get to the point: you owe damages. And you're going to pay them."

  For the first time Mark looked cross. "So that's your plan - you tell me that I'm wrong about everything I've ever believed in, and you thought I'd apologize for offending you?"

  Mike seethed. "Pay up, Mark."

  Mark's eyes narrowed. "Mike, you're a business owner. You've read the standard negotiation books - 'Getting to Yes', 'Bargaining for Advantage' - that sort of thing?"

  "What's your point?"

  "The key in negotiations is figuring out what each side really wants."

  "Mark, what I really want-" Mike didn't care that his sarcastic mocking tone was clear "- is for you to pay up and then stop assaulting people and breaking things."

  "No. What you want is for us to stop busting up casinos that you provide security arrangements for. So there's a simple way to get that - stop protecting the people who are trying to destroy our community."

  "I'm not going to back down -"

  "Fine. Let's talk about the thing you really want -"

  Despite himself Mike went for the bait. "What?"

  "What you really want is for your revolution to succeed."

  Mike stared at him. "What?"

  "You're disgusted with the false authority and socialism that's been rising on Earth for the past few decades, and you want to start a new society. A new country. I'm in agreement with that. We're allies here, Mike - with just a few tactical disagreements. And like all good allies, we can work out those disagreements."

  Mike wanted to stand and yell at Mark, berate him for his arrogance, his refusal to live up to the contract he'd signed, his God-damned insistence on sneaking government in through the backdoor.

  He pictured Javier's reaction if he did any of those things, and barely fought the urge back. Mike breathed out heavily through his nose.

  "What are you saying?"

  "The war is here. We must hang together, gentlemen...else, we shall most assuredly hang separately. Do you know that quote?"

  "Don't be cute. What's your point?"

  "My point is that if you and I are in alliance, we can fight a revolution, and maybe win it. I've got a lot more resources and people than you realize. But if we're fighting each other over petty stuff like poker and prostitutes...then you and I are not in alliance." Mark paused and looked Mike straight in the eye. "Let's be brutally honest here. I actively believe in the rule of law, and the institution of government. I can try to cut a deal with the Earth governments and sleep well at night afterward. And to continue the brutal honesty: you can't. You need me more than I need you, Mike." Mark paused, and then continued. "But I'd rather that we're on the same team."

  Mark stood and stuck out his hand.

  Mike rose and looked at the proffered hand. "And the cost of you helping
out the Revolution is that I let you drive Leon's Poker House out of business?"

  Mark kept his hand out. "They don't have to go out of business. They just have to move somewhere else."

  Mike stared at Mark's extended hand. The revolution was probably doomed even with Mark's help. But it was almost certainly doomed without it.

  Mike hated himself for it, but he started to raise his own hand.

  But if he compromised and sold out a small business, then what was he standing for? Freedom...as long as someone richer, someone more powerful didn't want the infringe on it?

  And what was he compromising? Not his own freedom. No. Someone else's. Is that who he was? Someone who sold out the small fry and gave special privileges to political allies?

  He felt his hand falter.

  If he didn't take this deal, he'd probably lose Mark from the Boardroom Group - and he might even have him defect entirely. The threat to negotiate a separate peace was unlikely - but not impossible.

  And if Mark signed a separate peace, the revolution would fail, and he, Javier, Darcy - everyone - would end up dead or imprisoned.

  He had to make this deal.

  But what precedent did it set? If Mark had free rein to smash up any bar he didn't like in his quest to build what he saw as a decent society, where did it end? Zoning? Minimum wages? Undesirable, but people could live with that. But would it end there? First one compromise, then another. How long until drug prohibition? How long until no-knock raids, email surveillance, confessions under torture, asset forfeiture?

  No.

  Mike let his hand drop to his side.

  "Mike, I'm not asking for much, just -"

  "You're asking for everything."

  Mike pulled out his phone and dialed. Wam answered on the second ring. "Wam, I need you to station men outside Leon's casino. No, not guards - I want a full fire team. Armed and armorered. And cut a check to Leon for the damages; we'll eat this one."

  He hung up.

  Mark looked taken aback. "Mike, let me ask you to reconsider - the revolution needs me."

  "Yeah, Mark, it does. But that doesn't mean that I'm going to sell out someone else's freedom."