Fran smiled, her expression forlorn. “I raised you right. You see the problems, right away. But scared townies aren’t going to worry about all that, so long as Cobi promises them that, if they vote his way, they aren’t going to go hungry in the future.”
Christine frowned. “I doubt it’s even legal. Eminent domain doesn’t make it open season for local government to hunt properties. It’s a really complicated field. There are lawyers in the firm I work at, who do nothing but eminent domain.”
Fran scooped eggs onto plates, one after the other, set out in a row beside her on the counter. “Ha. Too bad there’s no one going who knows all that, and could put a stop to it. Someone who did paralegal work for a law firm, perhaps. I wish I knew someone like that.”
Christine gave her a half-smile. Of course her mom had a goal in mind when she’d started the conversation. She’d gotten Christine all riled up, then told her how she could do something about it. The result was a foregone conclusion. “Oh, stop, and tell me where my flannel is. You know damn well I’m going to march right down there to crusade for the farmers.”
“The thought never crossed my mind.”
Ha, right. “You do know you’re a townie now, right?”
“Heavens, no. Shut your mouth. Why do you say such hurtful things?” Fran handed her a plate with plastic silverware on it. “Eat, then go. It doesn’t start for an hour.”
Christine opened the door and all dozen or so heads within turned to face her. She started to bring her hand up to her neck, but forced herself to brush down her shirt, instead. Fighting to keep her nervousness out of her voice, she smiled and said, “Oh, good. I didn’t miss the vote.”
Cobi, at the podium, frowned. “No one invited you. How did you even hear of this emergency meeting?”
She made her way to one of the folding chairs a couple rows back from the nearest people, and as she removed her light flannel overshirt from where she’d tied it around her waist, she replied, “It’s a small town. Everyone knows what’s going on, here, or they’ll find out soon.” She took a seat, draping her flannel shirt over the back, and then stretched one arm out across the back of the adjacent chair, hoping she looked relaxed. “So, you want to use eminent domain to steal farms for townies. Brilliant move, Cobi.”
His frown deepened, and someone said, “Say what, now? Cobi, no..”
He replied, “I had not yet laid out the proposal for voting, Chrissy. But yes, I intend to ensure the people of this fine town have food enough for their kids, not just for today, but every day. We can’t do that while these selfish individualists hold the food hostage to their unreasonable demands.”
“Two points. First, which unreasonable demands have ‘they’ made? Two, under what authority are you stealing their land?”
More than one in the audience turned to look at Cobi, who shifted his weight back and forth, tapping fingertips on the podium. “You know very well they ask for too much, in return for food we need. But more importantly, what are they going to demand tomorrow? Or the next day? My responsibility is to all Weldona’s people, not just a few over-privileged farmers.”
“Those farmers are Weldona’s, too, Cobi. They ask for what they need to get by, in return for what others need to get by. But let’s say you’re right and they ask for too much. How much food will you lose when the farmers just decide not to trade with you at all? Can you take all those farms, by force? Because you’ll have to, if you do this. The couple farms you’re seizing won’t make up for the food they’ll stop sending.”
With a smile, Cobi replied without hesitating, “Perhaps, or perhaps not. There are more of us than them, though—”
“They’re ‘us’ too, Cobi.”
“—and the law is on our side.” He ignored her comment.
Christine felt the room growing hotter, but kept her relaxed posture with some effort. If logic couldn’t stop this fear-inspired foolishness, perhaps the law could. “Is it? Are you certain the law is on your side, here? Interesting fact: I work at a law firm in Denver. They do handle eminent domain issues. So, I have a bit of insight on it.”
“You aren’t a part of these proceedings, Chrissy.”
“I am now. You do know the law requires just compensation, right? How will you compensate them for taking their property?”
Cobi grinned, his gaze sweeping his audience—but avoiding Christine’s. “With legal tender, of course. The town’s bank accounts are adequate to pay them the properties’ last known value. While we can’t access banks, at the moment, promissory notes will do.”
She stared at him, wishing her eyes could shoot daggers. “And no part of that is legal.”
“What do you mean?”
She grinned. “Cash is no longer commonly used for transactions, is it? I wonder how many here would take cash for their services, right now. Does that sound like ‘just compensation’ to you?”
“Yes, it does. The crisis is temporary. And by using pre-crisis values, we can be sure they’re getting more than what it’ll be worth when this is all over with.” Cobi grinned right back, like he was already triumphant.
Christine held her smile in place. “Two problems. First, the law is very specific. You have to conduct a current appraisal. That means its value must be shown in terms of current worth—in goods, not cash, in other words. Does the town have enough doohickies to pay them off? But there’s more.”
“Chrissy, this is no—”
She plowed ahead. “Second, they have to be offered that current appraised amount before you can apply eminent domain.”
“I doubt that’s true, given the current circumstances. Martial Law—”
“Martial Law resorts state law to Federal, which follows the same process. Which leads me to the final hurdle, which I guess means there are three, not two.”
Cobi gripped the podium edges, knuckles turning white, and stared down at it intently. “And what is this supposed hurdle?”
“After the appraisal, and after you offer them the current market value, only then can it proceed—in court. Every eminent domain case must resolve in a state court of law. Even if they agree to your price, case law is clear that it is non-binding until recognized by a court of law at the state level. Do you have a State Supreme Court judge handy? One recognized by the governor as being active? Last time I checked, the state of emergency suspended the state’s court system indefinitely.”
He opened his mouth to reply, then snapped it shut. He opened it again, and snapped it shut.
Christine stood and gathered her flannel shirt. “I guess that’s it, then. You’re just going to have to bargain with our citizens to get what they produce, just like you do with townies. Unless you want to break the law, and I think there’s enough of you here to qualify as a conspiracy—and I happen to know the only two law enforcement officers in town. They might take issue with you, Cobi, for being the ringleader.”
She made her way toward the door, holding her head high. She couldn’t stop the stupidity by force, but hopefully, she’d stopped them with words. Time would tell.
Then, a woman’s voice rose up over the low murmur permeating the room. “Cobi, screw that. We gotta eat, and there’s more of us than there are of them. If they don’t want to join us, we can do something about it.”
All around, other voices rose in agreement, and the tone grew noticeably angrier. Christine hurried out, letting the door close behind her as her heart pounded. Were they really that stupid?
No, they’re that afraid. That realization sent a cold chill down her spine. Anything could happen, next. She only prayed Cobi was coward enough to put a stop to the threats of violence.
35
David walked beside Orien toward the town hall, where a meeting was supposedly going on. Cobi had to be notified of the outsider who’d snuck in, among other things. But as he approached the doors, one swung open, and Christine came out, talking to herself. She didn’t seem to notice him.
“Good morning, Mrs. Simmons,” he said.<
br />
Her head whipped up and her eyes locked onto his, wide with surprise. “Oh, David. Are you a part of this insanity?”
Uh oh.
“I’ve no clue what you mean. To which insanity do you refer? There’s a lot to choose from.”
She eyed him for a long moment, then nodded. “Cobi wants to use the law to steal farms. The problem is that he can’t legally do that. The laws are pretty clear. Not everyone wants to take no for an answer, though.”
Alarms went off in his head. People acted irrationally, under stress, as he’d seen too many times in his years with the department. These were stressful times. He asked, “And you’re absolutely certain the law isn’t on their side? How were they going to steal farms?”
She let out a heavy sigh, then replied, “I’m positive. I’m a paralegal, and my firm did handle eminent domain cases. That’s how they were going to steal property from farmers. He thinks it’ll guarantee food for the town.”
“Will it?” Why he asked that, David wasn’t sure. The law was the law, assuming she was correct. But those were times for a certain moral flexibility. People were okay with being wrong, if being right meant starvation.
“No. The farmers are trading food for what they need. Townies trade what they need for food. The farms and the town can’t survive without each other, but if he declares war on the farmers, you can bet they’ll live without whatever goods they’re trading for now.”
David looked at Orien, but only got a shrug in response. He took a deep breath. This was not what he’d had in mind when he began his “relaxing walk.”
He turned and walked inside, and only hoped a uniform in the room would settle down the rowdier folks. He paused a moment as his eyes adjusted to the lower inside light, then looked around. Cobi stood at his cherished podium, banging his gavel, but the dozen people inside were mostly standing, shouting. Threats were among the shouts, though it was hard to make out who was saying what.
When Cobi looked up, he froze mid-swing with his gavel. A few of the people looked up, as well—and then more. The room quieted.
David said, “Good morning, sir. My partner and I have concluded a community patrol on foot, and we’ll need to debrief you on the results. But what’s this I walked in on? I know I did not just hear a mob forming. Because if I’d heard that, I’d have to start making arrests.”
Cobi gulped. He waved his gavel to indicate the crowd. “No, officers. We are having a heated discussion about a matter of some importance to this town, nothing more. People have strong feelings on the matter.”
David resisted the urge to smile at Cobi’s meaningful glare to the crowd. It reminded him of his nephews trying to talk their way out of whatever trouble they’d gotten themselves into.
He replied, “I understand you’re discussing the merits of taking unlawful action to deprive some citizens of their property. Tsk, tsk. I’m very glad to see you are trying to reign in the couple hot-heads who think turning on each other is the best policy in the face of this crisis.”
Cobi frowned. He was silent for a moment, eyes twitching as he clearly thought his way through how best to reply, and David waited patiently.
After a couple seconds, Cobi said, “Actually, we’re discussing the possibility of me deputizing citizens to enforce the law, should this town determine that de-privatizing some agricultural capacity is in all our people’s best interest.” His worried expression shifted, a faint smirk showing on his face.
David nodded, ignoring the smirk. It wasn’t relevant. “Given the dubious legality, sir, I doubt I can allow that to happen.” He leveled his gaze at Cobi, locking eyes with him, and held steady.
Cobi nodded back at him. “Of course, we’d never consider illegal acts. However, Christine was not elected to lead this town. Nor were you, in fact. I was. They elected me because I want what’s best for this town—the whole town, not one special interest.”
David caught himself from responding to that. People constantly tried to divert the interrogation, in his experience, by bringing in irrelevant details to derail the interrogator. The same applied here, apparently. David said, “The resident with the greatest expertise in eminent domain law presents a very compelling argument against the legality of eminent domain seizure, sir. I don’t know if you were aware of that. It certainly should affect your decision-making process.”
Ha. That should stop that travesty from happening. David eyed the audience, and as one person after the other broke eye contact, he felt his pulse slowing. Hopefully, he’d averted the crisis…
Cobi smiled—which surprised David—and pointed his gavel at the door behind David. “Ah, yes. Chrissy relayed her unqualified legal opinion, which is, I assume, who you’re talking about. She brought up some very interesting points.”
“Oh?” David immediately regretted saying that, and groaned inwardly. He’d just engaged the diversion, the very thing he’d so adeptly avoided a moment before. Dammit.
Cobi’s smile broadened. “Oh, yes. In fact, I was so impressed with her presentation that I’ve decided to form a committee, which she will lead if she meant what she said about caring for this town and its people.”
David raised an eyebrow at that. This was the same Cobi who had just tried to exile Christine. Maybe he was smarter than David had at first given him credit for. Smarter, and a better leader, after all.
Cobi continued, “Yes, she’ll lead a committee to work out ideas for securing the necessary food to sustain the town and everyone in it, regardless of their individual ability to pay. No one is to be left behind, not in my town. Of course, I’ll co-chair the committee. If we can determine a better path forward, working together, then I’ll make that happen. But if she refuses, or if she doesn’t provide enough help for us to succeed, then of course we’ll proceed with eminent domain and just let the civil courts work it out—whenever those get back into session, of course.”
David almost groaned aloud. He’d worked with enough bureaucrats to see exactly what just happened. If Christine came up with a workable plan, Cobi could take the credit for it, and if she didn’t, he’d be able to blame her for the resulting illegal seizure. And by framing it as a civil issue—which, of course, it largely was—then farmers protecting their land would be committing assault, a felony. He’d just cut David out of the equation at the same time.
Damn, that bastard had a political skill that far surpassed his skill at managing people, or his common decency for that matter.
And David could only stare, at a loss for words.
36
Christine shoved eggs around on her plate with a piece of buttered toast. The thick, home-cooked bread held the butter wonderfully, and didn’t fall apart among the eggs, but her appetite had left Fran looking at her disapprovingly. Oh, well—Fran was never happy with her, it seemed, and if it wasn’t about lunch, it would have just been about something else. Christine ignored Fran’s scowl.
David took a gulp from his glass of milk and wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin. “You don’t like ham and eggs?”
Christine shrugged. “It’s not that. I just have a lot on my mind.”
Fran said, “What, this committee thing, again? You know he’ll never let you come up with a workable plan, right? Why did you agree to head it?”
David said, “Have you considered the possibility that he might really believe he’s working for the good of the town, overall?”
Christine raised her eyes to stare at him. He couldn’t possibly believe that. Could he? She said, “I have considered it. But it’s not an actual possibility. He’s going to be a monkey-wrench at every step, and we’ll never get anything productive done, mark my words.”
He looked down at his plate without replying, and sat still.
She sighed. “He might think it’s for the greater good. Maybe. But that only makes him more dangerous and determined to stop any good that could come from some stupid committee. In the end, he’ll destroy the barter system between townies and farmers, ruining their li
velihood and costing the townies a friendly food source. Lord, I hope the government fixes all this before anyone starves—or gets killed.”
Fran made a sound like she’d spit into the kitchen sink she stood beside. “Bah. Those townies and us farmers need the same thing: security that we’ll all get compensated for our work. Otherwise, why work, and definitely, why share?”
Christine shook her head. “Fran, that’s just the thinking that got us all in this mess. People should work, and give, because you help yourself when you help the community. When everyone works together, everyone’s stronger. And believe it, we need to be strong and unified to face the storm that’s going on out there,” she said, waving her hand to indicate the world outside the town. “Putting themselves first is how Cobi’s townie supporters almost decided to shoot themselves in the foot. The farmers are Weldonians, too. Separating half the town—the half that sits between townies and the big bad world, at that—cuts our strength in half.”
David grunted, “Stand together, or fall apart.”
“Precisely.”
Fran, however, shook her head at her daughter. “That’s foolish thinking. You have to be real. Whatever solutions you all come up with, they don’t stand a chance in the real world unless they deal with human nature—as it really is, not how you wish it were. And how it really is, is selfish and stupid and fearful.”
It was Christine’s turn to shake her head in disbelief. “Fran, I can’t believe that. Some people are like that, but I think most people are good. They’ll do the right thing, if they can do it without risking their kids’ safety. And standing together is what we need to do,” she said, pointing her piece of toast at David, “because he’s right about falling apart, regardless if human nature really is selfish and stupid.”
“And fearful,” Fran repeated. “Don’t forget that. Fear is power, and it’s powerful. Lord, I wish we could go back in time. Remember those good old days, back when people were happy to trade worthless slips of green paper for things that had actual intrinsic value? I miss handing people bits of paper for things I want.”
Inception of Chaos: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Story Page 24