Out of the Ashes

enforce it. And there have been killings and woundings. All justified under our laws.

“Now, I’m going to tell you something all of you will find very difficult to believe. But it is the truth. The Tri- states take in approximately three hundred and thirty thousand square miles of territory. Per capita, we have .025 percent crime. I don’t know how in the Lord’s name a society could get any lower statistics than that. We’ve had one mugging in the Tri-states in the past two years.”

“What happened to the mugger?”

“Twenty-five years at hard labor,” Ben said calmly.

“Twenty-five years!” a reporter jumped to his feet. “My God, General Raines—what kind of laws do you people have in this state?”

“I just told you. Tough ones.”

Several of the press people shuddered. Some smiled in disbelief.

“We have very tough drinking laws in this state,” Ben said. “And they are enforced to the letter. No exceptions. If you doubt that, take a drive up to the state penitentiary and ask to speak to a Mr. Michael Clifford; he was our secretary of finance until two years ago. He got drunk one night and ran over a young girl. She was badly injured. Mr. Clifford is serving a ten-year-to-life sentence. Had the girl died, the charge would have been murder. Not manslaughter—murder. And he would have spent the rest of his life in prison, at hard labor. No probation, no parole.

“We are not a teetotaling society; we don’t care if a person gets stinking drunk in his or her own home. That’s not our business. Just don’t drive drunk.

“There are bars and lounges all over the Tri-states. But none outside of a town limit, and there is a two-drink limit, or a three-beer limit. It’s all on an honor system: no cards to punch, no undercover people sneaking about. And so far, it’s working. There again, we have to go back to what has been preached to you people since you got here. One has to want to live in this type of society. And not everybody can.”

Juno chose that time to wander out onto the patio, take a look around, yawn, and then drop to the ground and go to sleep. He was getting old, almost nine years old, and blind in one eye, but still a beautiful animal.

“That’s a wolf,” someone whispered.

“Malamute,” Ben corrected. “I found him in Georgia, years ago. Or rather, he found me. Juno’s harmless, for the most part. Just leave him alone; that’s all he asks.” Ben smiled. “That’s all we ask here in the Tri-states.”

“Governor…” A woman rose. “I’m an atheist. Could I live in this area?”

“Of course; but your children would still be taught the Bible, our creation, in public schools—and there are no other kinds of schools. And won’t be.”

“Suppose I don’t want my children subjected to that superstitious drivel?”

“Then you could leave.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Your form of government is not very fair, General.” She slurred the “General.”

“It’s fair for the people who choose to live under it. And that is what Tri-states is all about. And I’m beginning to sound redundant.”

“You stress the Bible, General,” she retorted, “but it seems to me there is a definite lack of compassion in this state. And I really can’t correlate the Bible with legalized prostitution.”

Ben had taken an immediate dislike to the woman. Bad chemistry, he supposed. “I don’t stress the Bible, lady. We have great compassion for the old, the sick, the homeless, the young, the troubled, the helpless, those in need. Our system is such that no one needs to steal. That is why we are so harsh with lawbreakers. The churches are for those who wish to attend. The whorehouses are for those who would like a quick piece of ass.”

Behind him, Salina suppressed a groan and Tina giggled.

The woman sat down, angry.

Half of the press people laughed, the other half frowned at Ben’s loss of composure.

“Some would say you have a cult here, Governor.”

“No.” Ben shook his head. “I’d have to argue that. I was afraid of it, I will admit. At first. But we have no clear and fast ruler here. I know the people of the Tri-states would fight and die for their system of government. I am equally convinced they would not blindly die for me. That’s the difference. All of us are the architects of the system—not just me.”

“What does it take to move into this state?” Judith asked. Her colleagues looked at her in surprise. She sounded as if she meant the question for personal reasons.

“There has to be a job for you, and you have to want to move in very badly. You have to agree to become a member of the standing militia, and to support the Tri-states’ philosophy—war or peace.”

“You suppose there might be a job for me?” Judith asked.

“I would certainly imagine so. We’ve opened a number of radio stations and installed a number of TV stations. In our check on your people, you came out very high. You’re a fair reporter in all aspects.”

A reporter jumped to his feet. “What do you mean: a check on us?”

“Just that. You were all checked by our intelligence people before coming in here.”

“How? I mean… well, how?”

Ben smiled. “That, son, is something you’ll never know.”

The Tri-states had a fine intelligence-gathering network with sophisticated computers and databanks. Their microwave equipment was the finest in the world. Dozens of technicians, formerly employed by the CIA, NASA, NCIC, the FBI, and others, worked for the Tri-states’ military—both inside and outside the state. They had taps into many computers around the nation.

“Are you interested in joining?” Ben asked the young woman. “I believe your mother and father were killed by burglars, before the war—were they not?”

Judith nodded. How had he discovered that? “Yes, I am very much interested.”

“Are you out of your mind?” her boss whispered. “What are you trying to prove?”

Judith shrugged her reply.

“You people prowl around for a few days,” Ben said. “We’ll meet again for more questions and answers.” He wheeled about and walked into the house, Salina and Tina behind him.

Badger blocked the way, the AK-47 at port arms. And the first press conference in Tri-states’ short history was over.

FIVE

“Dr. Chase and Legal Officer Bellford are waiting for you people downtown,” Badger informed the press corps. “Tell your drivers to take you to district HQ. It’s just a couple of miles from here. That way.” He pointed. “There are vehicles waiting for you—Jeeps.”

“For free?” a reporter asked.

“Sure,” Badger said. “Why not? You thinkin’ about stealin’ one?”

The man laughed. “After what we just heard about your form of justice?”

Badger smiled. “Yeah. That’s something to think about, isn’t it?”

The auditorium in the Hall of Justice building was large and comfortably furnished. Charles Bellford and Chief of Medicine Lamar Chase were waiting for them.

Dr. Chase did not particularly like the press—those from the outside—but he agreed to meet with them. His dislike was evident with his opening remark.

“Let’s get this over with,” he said. “I’ve got important things to do.”

“You don’t consider meeting with us important?” he was asked.

“I consider it a waste of valuable time, and cannot see that anything constructive will come from it. You each get one question directed at me.” He looked at the reporter who had asked about the importance of the meeting. “You’ve had yours. Next?”