Paradise Burning (The Virtagwalla Series Book 2) (3 page)

              Zhang stirred, glaring at the speaking woman, as the faces of the Minister’s began to melt, “The stress fractures of our economy began to show a little more than two months ago, when the Republic Power Company, suffocating under its own debt, threatened bankruptcy due to its inability to produce solvency. In layman terms, that means they did not have enough cash to keep their doors open. We, as a body, bailed them out, and it has been hailed as a brilliant economic policy move such that we averting a disaster of colossal proportions. Since then, the RPC has raised rates, and is at last review, beginning to see growth of revenues, and hopefully thereby profits. We have no timetable for loan repayment at this time. This raise in rates was, as predicted, felt by everyone, from the individual homeowner, to the small time merchants, all the way to the top of the boardrooms of this island’s largest of firms. This increased cost to companies is then passed onto consumers which has caused prices across the island to rise on all goods and services. This price increase has pinched peoples’ wallets and in turn is causing them to become significantly more frugal. On top of that, the slumping demand for manufactured goods forced many of this island’s factories to close their doors.  I am confident in say that this has lead to a full collapse of our manufacturing sector. I wouldn’t be truly surprised if I found out by the end of this next quarter the last factory on this island was forced to shut down. Demand for our steel has vanished, and all other goods we produce probably can be found cheaper elsewhere and closer to the end consumer. This has pushed our unemployment rate from record lows, to around 11% of the population according to the most recent numbers released last week.”

              More and more ministers began to sit up, and pay attention. Many of them looked confused, or lost, as Sensado barreled forth, “The rise in unemployment has been felt on the purse of the government. We have, as we all know, one of the most ambitious and generous societal safety nets in the world. It is possible, in fact, that some of these unemployed machinists are making more by being on unemployment, than at their old jobs. We have seen an unprecedented increase of unemployment claims against the trust fund designed to endow this program. The account was never designed to sustain an unemployed populace of more than 10% of the current population. There are fears amongst my colleagues that the pull on this fund could be disastrous if it is not extended, or subsidized. But that’s surely a conversation we will attend to at a later date,” she sighed, again flipping a page.

              “With the budgetary concerns of the MFS and the University, it is becoming apparent; the Government is the only fiscal hospital in town. We have to this point loaned out a little fewer than seven billion dollars in assistance under the auspice of the Virtagwalla Asset Relief Program. However, we had to sell those bonds at huge discounts, costing us more money than we actually acquired from the VWB. The debt of this government is becoming significantly less and less liquid. And worst yet, if we do in fact have a negative quarter, we could be facing budgetary shortfalls in the upcoming months. We are nearly to the end of the second quarter of the National Government’s fiscal year, and we have expended more money than budgeted through the first three quarters of our budget, and these estimates were banking on the fact that we would run a surplus this year again. And to be frank, unless something significantly positive occurs; I am simply not seeing that happen.”

              “At this point I feel it is appropriate for me to speak on a topic slightly deviate to pure financial matters. I topic I wish to speak on is the public’s embrace of the fiscal maneuvers we have been exercising recently. The people of Virtagwalla reacted very negatively to the RPC’s bail out, but understood its necessity. As they see their cohorts lose jobs, and their tax dollars going to support those that either choose not to, or simply cannot work, they are getting even more frustrated. If you haven’t heard it, there is a growing anxiety that the Parliament is not leading the nation with its best fiscal foot forward,” the eyes of the Minister’s began to narrow on her, so she rebuked, “I am not deeply involved in these movements, however, it has come to my attention there is a growing angst amongst the population about the future of this nation. Once the University’s loan becomes public, and the fact that we may be ebbing on a recession, I am not expecting a supportive attitude from our fellow nationals. They have only ever known growth, an economy with endless possibilities and wealth unimaginable by most other nations on earth. The last thing I will say on this topic, is that we must tread softly, but carry with us the heavy hammer to make sure that we fulfill our obligations as a government, and keep our people protected not only from one another, but also an out of control Parliament.”

              The Ministers were getting frustrated now. Sensado was beginning to feel the pressure of the entire picture she was drawing for the room’s occupants, as she took a moment, sipped some water, and started again, “There are positive notes however– it isn’t all doom and gloom out there. As of this point, no matter what seems to be going on in foreign nations no international bank has fired a Virtagwallan living on this island because of financial issues. That is the vast majority of our working population, so that is a good sign. The other ray of sunshine is that Villaggio’s agricultural outlay is considerably higher this year, and seems to be the only export remaining resilient - which is good, because if it weren’t than we would be importing nearly everything we consume, and exporting nothing from this island.”

              Flipping over another page, she smiled and moved into the last section of her presentation, “I am not a magician nor can I read crystal balls. However I have been trained to read financial statements, and make predictions on economic trends. Therefore, what I am about to say is not gospel but simply a forecast of what could happen. First of all, we as a body need to pull the purse strings tighter, and be significantly more diligent with our money. If we proceed down this path, and continue to provide money for failing corporations, or ventures, then we run the risk of having our bond durability rating lowered. This means that it will cost us more to acquire funds that we do not already have. We have not, at least to my knowledge, ever had to raise the tax percentage in the middle of the year, but we may have to think about it if we have budgetary short falls. I am hesitant to say we would acquire the cash through the VARP seeing as we are only about a quarter of a trillion away from our debt topping our gross domestic product – something we must fight brutally to avoid. Nevertheless Virtagwalla is in for difficult times no matter what immediate direction our economy takes. The unfortunate thing is that we as a small financially based economy we are at the whim of the rest of the world. Heaven forbid something catastrophic happen with one of the big three’s economies, because unfortunately we could very well kiss our economy goodbye as well. Nowadays, if one economy trips we all get bruised. Once we make it through this rough and tumble time, it should be the first priority of this body to set forth policy to pay off our growing pile of debt, and set forth progressive policies to protect our shores from this ever happening again. On a last note, we do have something positive to look forward to however,” the room perked, as she finished up, “We have four months until the United States’ Congress’ final vote on our request for statehood. We have four months to fix our economy, and prepare so that everything is in order when the vote is successful. I am excited for the challenge, and I am looking forward to working with you on the mission.”

              She turned to look at the Prime Minister, “I now yield the floor for questions.”

              The Prime Minister stood and began calling on people with questions. Much to Sensado’s surprise, every single Minister’s hand shot into the air. Overwhelmed as well, Zhang hastily picked a stout, round man near the front. The other minister’s sat down, and the one selected asked, “Minister Sensado, may I inquire about the inflow of money to the National treasury. Surely taxes are not the only in flow of cash we have. What about from our holdings in VirtGold, or the other private ventures? Can you please speak to those trends?”

              Sensado nodded, “Minister Princeton, I do not have that information at this time prepared and in a context that could be easily digested. At my next committee meeting I will report those figures. I also plan on returning in couple months’ time, either shortly before or quite possibly after the ending of the third quarter to report on the continued evolution of the economy. At that time I can have all the most up-to-date information to help give you a better image of what we are looking at and to provide for this body a more accurate picture of financial situation.”

              Princeton sat down nodding his head, and a slender woman stood from the back, “How long until we run out of money? And what do we do when our Treasury has been depleted of cash?”

              Sensado, shuffling some papers, “Minister Jendussa, let me reassure you the cash we have on hand, should, last us for many more months. I can, when I come back with Minister Princeton’s answer, provide for this body at that time a snapshot of our current cash flow situation.”

              The woman nodded, and another man stood up. Sensado sighed. It was constant questions for three hours straight. Her faith in the national government and her warning to rein in spending slowly melted away as she fielded question after question asking if there was room in the budget for a variety of ‘emergency’ local projects for each Minister’s district.

              Walking out of the chamber, Rove caught up to her, “Jacqueline, how do you think it went?”

              She sighed again, exhausted and frustrated. Looking sincerely at Rove, “May God help us, they are going to destroy this place, one cent at a time,” she looked away, “Mr. President, I need to do something. I need to stop this from happening.”

Although typically a sarcastic wit, Rove could tell she wasn’t joking, “Jacqueline you are brilliant and I trust you. As Minister of Finance you have the power, and I have faith you will find the strength you need to exercise it.”

She glanced at him, “Forget my Minister power, Sir, I’m going to need God’s help on this one,” she sighed, never feeling more anxious than that moment in her entire life.

4

“The President has declined his invitation to attend the Xandu High School’s classic wind’s concert scheduled for this Wednesday evening due to the fact it is his son’s birthday,” Lis Mooring explained getting some of the smaller potatoes out of the way. “Furthermore the President also wanted me to inform you all that the National Guard will be performing some tactical training off the coast of Villaggio in the next couple days. The training is standard and takes place every year. Last year, however, there were some concerned citizens from Villaggio who thought the National Guard’s airplanes were UFOs of some sort, and thereby produced an unnecessarily kerfuffle across social media. Let me assure you, all of the flying objects have been identified, and are owned by the National Guard.”

              “Finally, Finance Minister Jacqueline Sensado wanted me to remind each of you that today is the end of the second quarter of the financial calendar. Monday we will have a full report for you on the extent of the economy. Minister Sensado did want me to warn you all that this past quarter has not been Virtagwalla’s best and that we should probably prepare ourselves for some negative news. That’s it. I am calling a full lid for tonight.”             

              The reporters bounced up and down calling her name, as Lis slipped out of the briefing room. Her assistant was waiting for her in the dark hall. Instructing her to go and get some of the questions and bring them to her in her office, she had to dash off. Minister Sensado was holding a meeting concerning some of the early numbers being released in terms of the extent in which the economy had been bashed. Sliding into the elevator, Lis just nodded her head, ‘If it isn’t one thing, its another. I just wanted to go home for the evening…but the Capital tower never sleeps.”

5

The news of the worsening Virtagwallan economic condition hit the newswires in a matter of days as information leaked that the island could very well have experienced its first quarter of economic contraction in nearly four decades. Finance Minister Jacqueline Sensado could be seen making quick comments on news broadcasts and eyes from around the world were tuning into the small island nation. It had remained for a very long period the beacon of hope amongst the worsening global financial meltdown. However, it too, now stood in a tight situation. Tensions from across the island were rising as the government settled in to begin making cuts where necessary. As unemployment raised, and the tax base continued to shrink the parliament needed to make some very serious decisions. Out of courtesy Zhang forwarded all budgetary decisions to Rove for his unofficial and unnecessary approval. Although the two of them butted heads on a majority of the issues, the survival of their nation was not one of them.

              Two weeks after Sensado’s report to the Parliament, the information was shared with the world that Virtagwalla had in fact experienced for the first time in 37 years a quarter of negative growth. Worst yet it was significantly more dramatic than most had even feared. Their economy had contracted nearly ten percent. Three times as many people were unemployed than at the beginning of the three-month quarter. Rove found his days becoming longer and longer as the financial base of his nation seemed to be eroding away. He found himself sleeping in Capital Tower more than he found himself at home in his bed with his wife. Ray loyally stood by as he met with business leader after business leader attempting to get an understanding of what was going on out in the environment. Ambassadors from trading partner nations were pounding down Capital Tower’s doors, attempting to get answers of what was going on. Rove began having three economic briefings a day. It was not a pretty picture. Worst yet one of the National Guard’s sailing vessels, during a tactical exercise, sustained significant damage from a faulty warhead. It cost Virtagwalla two of its best soldiers.

              As was customary Rove attended their memorial ceremonies.  The national cemetery, where all the fallen soldiers and past presidents were buried was perched high in the mounts, over looking the city of Ponchertrain. The day of the funeral was overcast as a couple hundred mourning souls drudged up the side of Mount Quinn to the National Cemetery. The procession had left the National Cathedral near Park Giza, and snaked its way along the interstate to HWY 100. The car ride was a quiet one for Rove, as he and Ray rode in the third car in the procession. Rove merely looked out the window at the grey sky.

              “It’s as if Mother Nature knows things aren’t going well for us down here,” Rove finally sighed.

              Ray, who had been fiddling around on his blackberry, looked up, “Mr. President, things may not be going too well right now, but that is not to say this is merely a bump in the road.”

              Leaning back and sighing, “I don’t know about that Ray. I’ve got this nagging feeling that something is happening right here in front of me, something is unfolding and I can’t quite grasp it. Do you ever have that feeling?”

              Ray put his phone down, looked out the window at the parade of cars, and responded, “Yes Mr. President,” he stopped short of explaining because he got distracted. His phone began to blink and go crazy. He clicked the buttons, “On a slightly more uplifting note you will be happy to hear your father’s foundation, the David Rove Memorial Foundation has invested nearly a quarter of billion dollars from its endowment.”

              “And it is invested in what I told you to invest it in, correct?” Rove asked, more attentive than before.

              “Exactly as you asked me. On another positive note we have, since the gala, raised another half a billion dollars. That places us at just shy of two billion dollars for its net worth,” he smiled, his lip curling.

              “We are going to need a lot more than that, aren’t we?” Rove asked shifting.

              “Well if we want majority ownership we are going to need somewhere near thirteen billion dollars,” Ray said looking out the window again. The SUV rocked back and forth as it continued to climb Mount Quinn.

              “And is that feasible?” Rove asked clearing his voice.

              The SUV came to a slow stop, “Very feasible sir,” he smiled reaching for the door, “I told you, I will take care of it.”

              Rove nodded, climbing out the door and putting on his hat. It was breezy and somewhat cooler on the summit of the Mount. Rove had come prepared with a long wool jacket, as he crossed the open field of the cemetery towards to the two open pits. The families of the victims were already by the burial site, as the hundreds of fellow mourners poured out of their vehicles. General Laurels had taken up post between the two pits, and was sternly staring forward with great control. The lowering of the bodies, and the twenty-one-gun solute seemed to drift past as Rove’s mind was occupied with other thoughts. He sighed at the thought of the rest of his day. After the caskets had been lowered in, and the roses tossed, the families along with Ray ushered people back across the field, and past their cars to a pavilion tent that had been hastily set up. The tent housed refreshments that were served while the National Guard’s band played soft music. Rove watched as the two men’s families cried and swapped stories of their fallen soldiers.

              Xavier Rove moved towards their families and expressed his condolence for their loses. The families welcomed him, individually, and he spent a considerable amount of time speaking with each of their crying mothers. Detaching himself from the women, Rove moved to the refreshment table where he ran into General Laurels.              

              “Good afternoon, General,” Rove said pulling his hands out of the pocket of his jacket.

              Taking a deep breath, “Mr. President,” he took Rove’s hand, “What a surprise to see you out of your office,” he said jokingly.

              Picking up on the tone, and giving a forced laugh, “Nowadays I think that even to myself,” Rove grabbed a cookie. “I am sorry to hear of your loss General. From the sounds of it, these two were very fine men to have amongst our ranks, and will surely be missed?”

              Nodding his head, and beginning to pull away from the table, “That they were. I did not have the honor of meeting either of them in person, however I heard great things about them.” The two men began walking away from the tent. Rove could sense the General wanted to speak to him about something in private, and thus followed Laurels.

              Silence overtook the two men as they walked. The wind whipped violently, furling and messing with Rove’s jacket. He smiled slightly, “General, is there something you would like to talk to me about?”

              Stopping Laurels looked Rove in the eye, “Actually yes sir there is.”

              “And what is that?” Rove asked reaffirming his ground.

              “Well, sir, it is typically not my place, but I feel as though I and the National Guard are being pulled into a political war that we have no ammunition or representation with which to fight,” Rove could tell Laurels was struggling to communicate his thoughts, “I am not a political man. You sir, are and are very good at it. I on the other hand just don’t have the stomach for it. So I am going to ask you something of the utmost seriousness.”

              Rove bit his lip, and again adjusted his stance, “General does this have anything to do with Prime Minister Zhang?”

              Laurels, as if just punched in the gut, looked shocked at Rove, “Yes, how did you know?”

              “Just a hunch. Go on,” he said nodding.

              Shaking his head, “Yes sir my issue is with the Prime Minister. I wish not to speak fowl of him, however I can’t help but feel that the National Guard is being used as a pawn in a political game we simply wish not to play. First of all, he has convinced the Parliament to freeze all of our accounts, outside of payroll and payables.  Meaning that we cannot purchase any new materials or equipment. Second of all, he led the movement to dismiss your nominee for the position of Lieutenant General. A movement that not only went against your urgings, but overturned a nearly century old tradition of allowing the National Guard to have a deliberate and meaningful say in who is appointed for high-ranking positions. Surely you can understand how important it is for the Parliament and the National Guard to have a healthier relationship than the one we currently find ourselves.”

              Nodding seriously, “I agree with you General at least on the second issue. Admiral Rhodes was not ratified by the Parliament?” he asked, shocked by the news.

              The General, putting his hands behind his back, wresting his left wrist on the hilt of the ceremonial saber that dangled from his belt, “It happened just yesterday sir. I am surprised your boys didn’t update you. Yes the process went as usual. I suggested to you a name, and you forwarded that on. It’s a crying shame, because Admiral Rhodes has been a loyal and diligent soldier and would have served as a fine Lieutenant General of the National Guard.”

              Rove scratched the back of his neck, “Who was selected instead?”

              The General clenched his jaw, and then looked back Rove showing great restraint, “A young captain was appointed by the Parliament. Her name is Zantha Carson, and to be honest with you sir, I haven’t quite got a read on her yet. As much as I can collect she is a ruthless negotiator, and takes no shit from anybody.”

              Rove laughed, “And that surprises you coming from a Parliament run by Artimus Zhang?”

              The General released his clenched hands and placed them on his hips, as he chose his words wisely, “Mr. President the Parliament is the body elected by the people to make the best decisions for the people. I will get over the appointment of Ms. Carson, but what I can’t understand is who in their right mind would permit the budget of the National Guard to be tightened to the point of near suffocation?”

              Rove rolled his eyes, and shot back, “I permitted it General, when I authorized the cuts this morning by signing the most recent budgetary resolution.”

              Laurel’s eyes grew larger, and his demeanor instantly changed, “You have got to be kidding me Mr. President! That is bullshit.”

              Becoming quite accustomed to angry people, “General Laurels please watch your language, we are standing on sacred grounds,” Xavier snapped ferociously, “General, we as a nation are facing some very daunting foe right now. And that foe is nasty combination of crushing debt and dwindling cash flows. We must cut back, and defense spending is one area where the budget it already bloated, and in my opinion, and the opinion of the National Parliament a place that can be trimmed.”

              “I do not have to tell you Rove-” he was quickly cut off.

“Mr. President,” Rove snarled.

“Excuse me sir?” General Laurels paused confusedly.

“You are to refer to me as Mr. President. Must I remind you too, much like I have had to every private you have put me with, I am your Commander and Chief and thereby I am in charge of you. Do not ever show myself, or any other President this type of disrespect ever again. Do you understand me General?” Rove whispered viciously such as to not attracted attention.

The General closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. Calming himself down he growled, “Yes sir.”

“Thank you, now what do you not have to tell me, but feel compelled to do so anyways?” Rove crossed his arms.

“I was saying Mr. President, do I have to remind you of how vital National Defense is to not only our people’s safety, but also our economic interests. National defense is a huge part of the economy.”

              Being glad they had removed themselves from the crowd of crying women, Rove again snapped at his General, “I am quite well versed in how national defense can be vital to an economy. However all the materials you use, and equipment you may be acquiring are from nations outside of our own. We do not produce or manufacture anything you would be purchasing. Thus you are not be helping our economy.”

              “I can not believe your fowl judgment on this issue, Mr. President. I thought you were different than those other squabbling politicians,” Laurels took off his hat and turned away from Rove.

              “General when it comes down to it we must decide whether to spend our money on guns or butter. Let me assure you I will always choose to feed my people before paying for more bullets for your soldiers to just shoot for practice. This is an island for god’s sake. What is the worst that can happen to us?” he asked sarcastically, “And if you haven’t noticed but we aren’t necessarily in the best shape either.  Who would waste a bomb on us?”

              Turning and pointing at Rove, “You, Mr. President, better watch. Because your butter eaters will slowly lose faith in this government and if the economy continues to spiral out of control, the National Guard will become even more useful – even more necessary. They may be content with their butter for now, but eventually they are going to want toast to go with it. And when you, and those other politicians can’t produce, they will find their guns and go after it. We are venturing down a very dark path, and unless you and your squabbling cohorts can get this shit together, you are going to wish you hadn’t cut our funding.”