Eddy's Current (43 page)

Milton’s personality forced him to look for answers, though, and to accept his share of responsibility. He was a man of tremendous faith in the American way. Despite the deep mistrust of politicians of his time, he could be trusted. Now, more than ever, was a time for straight–forward truth from people who could be trusted, except that the truth was more elusive than ever. It was a time for those who had firsthand experience solving problems and caring for others. It would require new definitions and it would require swift action, or swift inaction, whichever was appropriate.

The Senator’s phone rang, “Senator,” his secretary, Denise, said, “It’s Daichi Ikeda from Mitinsusoto Corporation in Japan. He’s calling about the real estate in California that he talked with you about last month.”

Senator Milton hesitated at first, knowing that he had no answer for Ikeda, and knowing exactly why he was calling. Refusing the call might spark an international incident that neither he nor Ikeda was prepared to handle at this point.

“Okay. Put him through to me.”

“Mr. Senator, Mr. Senator, this is Daichi Ikeda from Japan, I’m calling about your country’s decision to seize our real estate in California. What is the problem? Why are you doing this? You are going to cause a serious conflict with my country if you go through with the seizure. This action will ruin my company and it might ruin my country.”

“We have already gone through with the seizure of your real estate, Mr. Ikeda. All foreign–owned real estate holdings of countries holding our debt has been seized. We were forced to do it when your country and others refused to extend our debt payments. Our options were so limited and our debt so large that we had no choice.”

“You Americans lived for decades overextended on debt and now you choose to punish those in the world who accumulated capital and purchased assets with money rather than paper! That is inconceivable! I promise you, Mr. Senator, you will regret your actions.”

“Mr. Milton, you need to take this call,” said Denise. “It’s Michael Tisson, the head of the Federation of Auto Workers.”

“I know who Michael is, Denise,” Milton snapped. “Just put him through.”

“Ed, what are you going to do about funding that Labor Contingency Fund we agreed on several years ago. Shouldn’t you take action soon.”

“Michael, do you understand that there is nothing to fund it with other than paper, worthless paper?”

“Ed, you have to do something. Anything!”

“Lie? Do you wish for me to lie to you and to all of your workers, Michael? What good would that do?”

“Listen to me, Ed! This is no time for moral martyrs. This is serious. You have to do something. Just tell me that you’re pulling money from another fund, even temporarily, and that will be good enough for me to report to my board. Listen, Ed, we’re only talking around fifteen to sixteen billion, tops.”

“Sorry, Michael, I am unable to tell you any such thing.”

“You’re bringing hell down on yourself for no good reason, Ed. You’ll be sorry.”

Tisson hung up abruptly, without receiving any commitment from Milton.

Senator Milton retreated to his study and stayed there alone for hours before finally exiting the building from the back to join Congressman Perez for their regular Thursday lunch at Indigo’s Italian restaurant near the Capitol building. Milton had something important to say to Alex, just two months after Alex was elected Speaker. He didn’t have to say a word, though. Alex knew Milton well, and he knew that he was going to bring up the reasons for Alex’s election as Speaker. Alex also knew that his friend would offer solutions for the immense challenges that lay ahead.

“I know I was set up. I know I was elected because they didn’t have anyone who wanted the position. I know that Wallens’ speeches were complete bull. Kathy tried to tell me earlier on, but I wouldn’t listen. But I’m still the Speaker of the House, this is still America, and I have a job to do,” Alex explained.

“Great observations, Alex. Brilliant.”

“Thanks… I think.”

“So now what do we do, Mr. Speaker?” Milton asked.

“Let’s start fresh. Let’s talk about things way outside the box, way outside the lines. What do we have to lose? The world is ceding more and more power each day to Peterson and the U.N. We are getting weaker by the day. Nobody seems to know what to do to restore this country. We have no national security agency, except maybe the USFIA. With the exception of the Army, our military is essentially under the command of the U.N. Even our president was not allowed to speak to the American people after the attack on Crimpton until we first held a debate about the very real possibility of Peterson giving that speech in the president’s stead. I personally believe that if Peterson hadn’t already planned his U.N. speech, we would have allowed him to address the American people instead of the president doing it,” Alex explained.

“Okay. You are the Speaker of the House. You have no special governmental powers, but you do have procedural powers. You can allow or disallow proposals that come before the government for consideration,” Milton said.

“That all has to do with parliamentary procedural stuff. We need action, and we need action now. We need to subvert Peterson. We need to neutralize him or stop him outright, by whatever means necessary. Once he’s stopped, America will bounce back and reestablish herself as the world’s independent superpower. USFIA has to do it, and we have to encourage them. In fact, we have to meet with them and arrange for them to do it. Call it a revolt. Call it a revolution. Call it a yellow Martian. I really don’t care what we label it. We have to devise a plan to stop Peterson in his tracks. Have you seen Warwick’s memo to Albert, recommending immediate action to stop Peterson?” Perez asked.

“No.”

“You need to read it, and you need to listen to the recording of Peterson’s fit of rage. It’s astounding, Perez said. “Warwick’s been assigned to watch Peterson for years, since the days before Peterson grabbed power at the ACC. His rise has been unparalleled. We need to meet with Warwick. You need to know the details of Warwick’s fears about Peterson. Albert agrees with Warwick. He’s angry with Warwick for calling it, but that’s only because Albert was challenged by Warwick’s grit.”

“If the recording of his fit is so compelling, why has it been filed away for nearly a year and a half? Why didn’t the leaders at the USFIA do something with it?”

“They didn’t want to face it, I guess. Who knows? They might be planning to go along with Peterson. I understand that only Albert wanted to do something. I can understand if he hesitated. He’s alone if he decides to move against Peterson,” Alex said.

“Okay. Let’s talk about it. You know, Alex, that we need to move now. Things are deteriorating fast. Guys like Wallens are sitting around waiting for it all to hit bottom, believing that they can ascend back up with Peterson and his buddies.”

“The problem is that, if it hits bottom, it’s not going to go back up. Wallens is too stupid to know that. He’s blinded by his ambition. He thinks he can continue to manipulate to go on up. It won’t work. Don’t worry about Wallens. He hasn’t got a clue. He’s a nonissue,” Perez replied. “Dom would have eaten him alive.”

“All around the country things are getting worse. It’s out of hand already, and still things are getting worse. This is our country, Alex. We are elected federal officials. We are responsible. We have to do something.”

The bottle crashed through the window, just missing the sleeping baby. It burst into flames immediately and, in a matter of a few minutes, the house was engulfed in fire. The baby was saved but the home was destroyed. The cocktail had been prepared by one who was angry at having so little—so little food, so little money, no shelter, no hope.

In a different time he would have been concerned with the welfare of babies; he would have demanded the immediate imprisonment of any “animal” who would throw a fire bomb into a home filled with innocent victims. He would have cared for people. But in the process of losing all of his material possessions, he also lost his decency. He, like tens of millions of others, had been given so much by the government, and promised even more, that he lost all hope when the well ran dry. He needed the attention. He needed the vengeance. It made his suffering tolerable.

Once a proud and prosperous town of hard–working blue collar factory workers and honest white collar office workers, Newark had become ashamed and desperate. Things had changed drastically. In fifty short years Newark went from being a town of prosperous, self–sufficient citizens to a city of the down and out who had an unsustainable dependency on the state for all their needs.

Newark was a city whose leaders proved incapable of providing the necessary government to protect citizens and encourage commerce while respecting the privacy and rights of its people. Neatly trimmed yards that once contained gardens were now scarred with the ugly dirt of poverty undergirded by only the hopelessness of government promises broken again and again. Its people were without hope and all hell broke loose because of it.

Newark was on fire—not just within the city limits either. The suburbs too. All of Newark burned. Hopelessness was the only thing more pervasive than fire. Children screamed for their parents. The police and the Army gave up. People realized that government promises were automatically broken when, for the umpteenth time in twenty years, the bottom fell out. The economy had collapsed… again. In one section of town a man burned an entire block, single–handedly.

Prisoners escaped from hopelessly understaffed prisons. Like all workers, the guards’ salaries were nearly worthless by the time they got off work each Friday. They were better off stealing their groceries. Satan reigned. Life was barely worth the anguish.

Trucks loaded with food — only a few existed in the entire city — were high–jacked and, before the thieves could make off with all the food, hundreds looted, stealing all the contents, burning the truck and fleeing, then moving on to the next opportunity. The Army surrounded the Newark airport and secured it completely. Senator Milton and Speaker Perez flew in to try first–hand to end the carnage. Their car never left the airport. Surely they would have been killed if it had. They were escorted back to their helicopter and flown back to Washington, D.C. The suffering in Newark continued.

Finally, without any other options, Perez and Milton showed up at the White House and insisted on meeting with the president. The president ultimately agreed to a meeting. The three sat down in the Oval Office. “Mr. President, we have a hopeless situation here. I’m concerned that it is so dangerous in Newark that, out of concern for the safety of their reporters, the news media might not have covered it enough for you to know the extent. It’s over, Mr. President. The city has, for all intents and purposes, been destroyed.”

“What would the two of you like me to do?”

“We want the Army and Marines to have the authority to shoot the masses, all who do not cooperate, anyone who does not obey the command for immediate submission to authorities.”

“Gentlemen, you forgot that only the Army marches for the U.S. now. All other branches of the U.S. armed forces are under the authority of the WWCA. Why can’t you just arrest them and put them in jail?”

“Mr. President, please don’t be offended by this remark, but you are out of touch with reality if you believe that we can contain this insanity any longer using standard police procedures. This is all out war. No, it’s worse than war. It is… I don’t know what it is. I only know that I literally cry myself to sleep at night, on the nights I’m even able to sleep. This is madness. It must stop, whatever it takes,” Milton explained.

“Okay, I’ll send in the Army,” the president said.

“With orders to shoot any person who does not immediately obey orders to stay in a particular area designated to herd crowds for control?” Milton asked.

“Yes,” the president replied.

“Thank you, Mr. President. Please pray for us.”

“I will.”

Newark suffered only one more week of terror. Seven hundred areas were fenced off by authorities, with nothing more than a padlock on a gate to keep people in. Then the government unleashed its wrath on the people whose rights it had been protecting for so many years. The government’s job now was to violate their rights rather than protect them. All citizens were ordered into one of the seven hundred camps. Doors were smashed down on the few remaining buildings. Citizens were given one warning over a loud speaker: “Come with us now to the citizen containment camp—and remember, now means now! I must warn you that, if you resist, even for a moment, we are authorized to kill you. And we will do so.”

Citizens were in shock at the authoritarian government—the same government that for so long had protected so much and given so much. The same government was now the enemy of the people. It was now forced to take the very lives of its citizens in order to keep them from killing each other indiscriminately.

It worked, though. Within seven days, all residents of Newark were either held in one of the seven hundred camps, where they would remain indefinitely, or they were run out of town, or killed. Anyone caught causing trouble in the camps was shot at once. The madness was finally contained.

The city was indescribably scarred. Hundreds had been murdered by fellow citizens and hundreds more killed by the authorities. All buildings lay in ruin. Homes, shops, office towers, factories, churches and more were destroyed. There was unbelievable destruction, regardless of where one turned.

Wallens decided that it was time to make his first move. He was called upon to deliver a speech to the annual gathering of New York University’s faculty. He also scheduled a major interview on Brighton’s cable news show for the night after his speech. His speech and interview would begin the process of raising his star and positioning him to be elected the next Speaker of the House, even though Perez had only been Speaker for ninety days. Wallens’ speech was all about him. He said little about New York University or about university education.

“…so tonight I come to you concerned about our country and our world. I did not want to interfere with the election of Mr. Alejandro Perez, Jr., to the office of Speaker of the House. As a proud Hispanic–American, Mr. Perez deserved the honor of the office, and I am honored to have nominated him to serve.