system of payment would be worked out. There were no collection agencies in the Tri-states.
As Ben told a group of visiting tourists, “It is the duty and the moral and legal obligation of the government —in this case, state government—to be of service and of help to its citizens. When a citizen calls for help, that person wants and needs help instantly, not in a month or three months. And in the Tri-states, that is when it is provided—instantly. Without citizens, the state cannot exist. The state is not here to harass, or to allow harassment, in any form. And it will not be tolerated.”
“No!” President Logan said. “For the last time, I will not send any person from this good office to talk with the illegal governor of an illegal state. No!”
“Hilton, the state is a real state,” Aston reminded him. “The people are real. Their economy is booming.”
“I will tell you what I intend to do. I intend to denounce the Tri-states as illegal and politically nonexistent in the eyes of the United States Government.”
“And?”
“What do you mean?”
“What next—troops?”
“Perhaps. I’ve discussed it with General Russell.”
“Hilton, for God’s sake!”
Logan ignored the VP’s pleas. “I think we should first concentrate on the rebellious Indian tribes. Get them back in line and off stolen property.”
“No, Hilton—good Lord. What harm have they done?”
“We can be thankful for one thing: the niggers didn’t get organized. Not really. I’ll let Jeb Fargo and some of his people spearhead the drive to crush the Indians. I really never knew they were so military.” He looked at his VP, not understanding the horror in the man’s eyes. “Aston, we’ve got to pull this nation back together. General Russell tells me we’re almost strong enough to break the back of Raines’s Rebels.”
“Hilton, let Ben Raines have his state; let the Indian have his land. I just don’t want any trouble.”
Logan laughed. “You’re worse than an old woman, Aston. Do you look under your bed for ghosts at night?”
“I’ll forget you said that.”
President Logan stood up, walking from behind his desk to place his hand on the VP’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Aston. My remark was uncalled for. I do need and value your help and friendship.”
“Hilton, do you think Raines was joking about those assassination teams? The zero squads.”
The president laughed. “Why, of course—don’t you?”
“No! I think we’ve been warned to leave them alone. I sure as hell don’t think he was kidding. Review his record, Hilton, both as a soldier in the U.S. Army and as a mercenary.” He looked up at his friend and boss. “Hilton, I’m worried, and so are a lot of other people around Richmond. Raines wasn’t kidding; he meant every word he said. Let them have their state.”
“Gun law, Aston? No. I won’t tolerate that.”
“Gun law is a phrase dreamed up by the press. They have courts and laws.”
“This is the United States of America, Aston.
The VP felt a cold, sluggish chill move in his guts, almost as a premonition of doom. “We’ll all pay for it, Hilton. Bet on it.”
The United States, for the most part, was recovering quickly. Nine years had passed since the nuke and germ holocaust. The people had adjusted to the fact that several major cities were gone, and there were areas they could never visit, or their children, or their children’s children. People had adjusted to the relocation and were rapidly picking up their lives… and once more listening to the rumors of war coming out of Richmond.
Tri-states had opened a number of radio stations within its borders, all operating on a twenty-four-hour basis, with enough power to cover the Tri-states. The formats were varied, from all news to rock and roll to classical, something for everyone’s tastes.
The telephone company had approached the Tri-states’ communications people, asking, please, could they have some of their equipment back? In return, Ma Bell would allow a hookup with equipment in the Tri-states.
Tri-states could now communicate with most of the other states.
Then, as the rumors of war became stronger, the central government of the United States began getting tough with its people.
First came legislation reestablishing government controls over the lives of people; balloting as a means of seeking the support of the people was rescinded, and the people were now told how they could live their lives. Then came more legislation controlling the ownership of firearms—all firearms. Rifles and shotguns were to be turned in, or forcibly taken from citizens. But Americans recently had had a war on their soil—and they had toughened. When the final roundup of long guns began, as before, resistance groups began forming.
Ben knew the government was deliberately saving the Indian nations and the Tri-states for last. The Indians and the Rebels would fight the longest and the hardest for their freedoms.
In less than six months, the federal government had broken the backs of most new resistance groups, seizing thousands of rifles and shotguns in the process, and had reestablished control over the lives of the people in seventy-five percent of the nation.
But there were still many guerrilla units fighting, hard-line holdouts who would fight to the end against total government control.
It was winter in the Tri-states, the temperature in the twenties and snowing. The phone rang in the outer offices of the governor general.
“Governor…” Ben’s secretary buzzed him. “It’s President Logan.”
Salina had come to have lunch with Ben and she smiled at his wink. “How about that?” he said with a grin. “That’s the first time in nine years Logan has officially acknowledged our existence.” He picked up the phone, calming the flashing light.
“Good morning, Mr. President. How are things in Richmond?”
“Cold,” Logan replied. “And wet.” He paused for a moment, then blurted, “I’d like a meeting with you and your staff. If we are to recognize your… state, there are a number of things we’d better discuss.”
Two thousand miles away, Ben sat numb, knowing the Tri-states’ time had come. For he knew Logan would only welcome the Tri-states into the fold if certain conditions were met, and the people of the Tri-states would never allow that. But Ben had to buy some time.
“Are you still there, Raines?”
“Yes,” Ben replied slowly. “Why the sudden change of heart, Logan?”
“A great many reasons, Raines.” The president’s hatred slithered through the long lines like a snake. “Some of which will not be to your liking.”
I’ll bet that’s a fact. “When do you want to meet?”
“Next Monday. Ten o’clock, eastern time. Here at the capitol.”
Ben started to refuse, to name an alternate site, neutral ground. But he rejected the thought, knowing the president could, if he was setting Ben up for an ambush, have troops anywhere in America in a matter of hours. He said, “All my people will be armed, including myself.”
“No! That is totally unacceptable.”
“Then the meeting is off,” Ben said flatly.
“Do I have to remind you I am the president of the United States? My God, Raines—don’t you trust me?”
Ben chuckled. “Hilton, you have got to be kidding. You were a closet bigot for years, using the minorities for votes only, and now your agents and troops are running around the country, knocking people in the head, taking their weapons from them. It’s ten times worse than before the bombings. So, trust you—? Hell, no.”
A moment of heavy silence. “All right, Raines, do it your way. Monday morning.” He hung up.
Ben sat for a long time, watching Salina work her needlepoint. She lifted her eyes, meeting his. She said, “It’s coming down to the wire, isn’t it, Ben?”
“Yes. Logan will offer us impossible conditions, knowing we’ll refuse. When we do, that will clear his conscience and he’ll move against us.”
