“Let’s say you own a pizza restaurant and you have four employees,” he said to one of the research assistants. “Your labor costs are fixed at $1600 per week. You can’t increase them unless you cut into your profit margin. However, if you do that, it affects your own income, the quality of your restaurant, or you have to borrow money to keep operating. Okay now, let’s say the government forces you to pay your people more. However, your revenues haven’t increased. That money has to come from somewhere.
“So now, instead of increasing your payroll, which you can’t really do, you have to fire one of your employees. You pay three people more money, but one of your employees has lost their job.”
The logic of the example cut through the room like a sword. However, there were still some doubters. One of them finally spoke up.
“Why do employers have to maintain their profit margins? I mean, how much is enough for them?”
Edmunds removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Bao could tell that he was about to blow a gasket. Edmunds took a long swallow from what must have been cold coffee and returned his gaze to his questioner.
“Have you ever owned a business or have you only worked for other people?”
“Other people,” the researcher replied, sheepishly.
Edmunds nodded, as if to say ‘that figures’.
“Well, you should ask some business owners that question. How much is too much money for you? I mean, if Mr. Varner here offered you a million dollars to do the same job, would you turn him down?”
There was no response to the obvious question.
“Let’s not question the motives of business owners. They’re human beings just like us,” Edmunds said calmly. “These are people who are acting out their dreams. They have children and mortgages and car payments. Also, while building their own dreams, they allow others to start to build theirs.
“While the kid who gets the job cooking the pizza isn’t living their dream, they’re making money to live while they’re working towards other goals, like schooling. This is the beauty of capitalism—everyone benefits … unless someone gets in their way, like governments.”
And with that, Dr. Edmunds sat in his chair. The eloquence of his words stunned the room. After a few moments of silence, Michael Varner stood.
“Thanks Dr. Edmunds. With that we’ll take an hour for lunch. When we return we’ll try to get through these other policy ideas.”
Charlie Henry did understand economics, but he also had goals. He knew that the policies he was implementing would lead to some misery, but that misery would be temporary. Prolonged economic misery in the United States was due to people holding on to capitalism. Hybrid economies – free market capitalism with only moderate governmental controls – could not work. Charlie’s plan was already working. In fact, they were a year ahead of his projections.
His goal was to establish redistributive welfare programs. This was only one or two steps away. In mid September there was an increase of personal and corporate income taxes. This, in combination with the minimum wage and restrictions on outside goods and labor, led to a greater slowdown of the economy. It was the series of policies enacted in the late fall that had the biggest impact, though. Just a week before Thanksgiving, the Blue Creek Council voted to begin printing money based on the total credits that were allotted to all of the Blue Creek residents. David Asher quickly signed it into law and then hit the news talk shows to explain the policy. He promised that the government wouldn’t print more money than was represented in the Blue Creek economy.
Patton Larsen quickly wrote a blog post that blasted the policy, noting that money printing always leads to inflation because governments can’t stop at the proper level of currency. He did note that the Great Depression was partially caused because the Federal Reserve didn’t print enough money to keep up with the economic growth of the Roaring Twenties. This led to deflation, which Patton noted was as bad, or worse, than inflation. He closed with a scathing accusation, writing “even if David Asher and his puppet master Charlie Henry could be trusted, which they cannot, giving this government the ability to print money is a disastrous development for this community. You’ve been warned.”
The city outsourced the printing of the money to a printing company in Salt Lake City. Patton pounded the Asher administration again, this time for hypocrisy. In another blog post, Patton wrote “I hope the Asher regime will pay its own fees for violating its own policy. I think the government should donate these penalties back to the Blue Creek residents that he stole the money from in the first place.”
The impact of the policy wasn’t immediate, but as the paper money began to reach Blue Creek residents, some residents started to feel nervous. No longer could you just use your credits card to purchase items at the store. People now had cash in their wallets. Some loved it, but some hated it. Most people, however, didn’t understand the danger that comes when a government owns a printing press.
Then a curious thing happened. Once people received cash, many went on a second spending spree. It was almost a Pavlovian response. There was a surge of economic activity, which, on the surface, was a good development after almost a year of near recession conditions. Of course David Asher, and some members of the Council, touted the development. However, the bad times would return at the end of the winter.
Just before Christmas, the negative impacts of the minimum wage and restrictions on outside goods and services began to take hold. Unemployment increased dramatically. Younger people, particularly teenagers, were impacted most because when employers lay off workers, they keep the most experienced workers. The tariff on outside goods drove up the cost of doing business. Business owners, in turn, raised their prices even further. Because wages were static, and most residents had already spent their cash reserves, spending throughout the economy decreased even more. This led to additional layoffs and a decrease in hours because profits were down.
In March, just after the government reached its first anniversary, the inevitable happened—the first family mortgaged their home. The story hit the TV news, the two newspapers, and the blogosphere. Soon after, Blue Creek’s two banks were flooded with requests. Simply put, most residents were accustomed to having house payments. Many wanted cash instead of full ownership of their homes. Following the flood of mortgages, there was another period of heavy economic activity and again, government officials touted the effectiveness of their policies.
But the heavy spending was temporary. The economy quickly returned to recession and, for some reason, the politicians avoided the news talk shows. As things continued to get worse, the government began talk of programs to help families with food and housing. Patton protested with a couple of blog posts, but he quickly relented. He understood that Charlie Henry had won this round. Blue Creek residents grew up in a society where government programs were the norm. He also understood that griping about policies on a blog site was not going to be enough to stop Henry and Asher. They were going to have to be removed from power.
CHAPTER
17
Anna called the meeting of the Blue Creek triumvirate. Charlie requested it be held at his house. He sat, reclined in a large stuffed chair. Anna and Asher sat across the living room from each other. They didn’t want to throw their relationship in Charlie’s face. He was already difficult to deal with. The silence was like an acid fog hanging in the air. No one knew where to begin and Asher started to wonder why Anna had called for the meeting. Besides that, it was dangerous for Asher to be seen with Charlie, although there was a small risk of that. They’d taken every precaution, but still, if word of the meeting got out, Asher could kiss any chance of reelection goodbye.
“I expected this,” Charlie said, finally breaking the intense silence. He knew that the others blamed him for their current situation, but he had to set them straight and get them to see the big picture. He had to let them in on some things and hopefully then, they
would regain their former faith in him. Both just looked at him in shock. He gestured for them to calm down with his hands.
“These people out here are sheep,” Charlie said, pointing out the window. “They’re hurting some now, sure, but they’ll adjust to the new realities. We still have our secret weapon. If they start fighting back we’ll hit them hard. Travis is still close right?” he asked Anna.
She nodded. Although Travis had been forced to flee Blue Creek during the election fiasco, he had stayed close. Currently he was living in Salt Lake City, waiting for a chance to return to Blue Creek.
“He’s changed his look,” Anna said. “He got his hair cut, grew a beard, put on some weight, stuff like that.”
Charlie nodded approvingly. He was glad to know that option to use violence was still on the table but if he had his choice, he wouldn’t resort to terrorism again.
“We have a year to turn things around,” Asher said.
Charlie glared at him. He was obviously annoyed but said nothing. Charlie no longer dealt with Asher directly. All of their communications went through Anna. It was Charlie that formulated policy. Then, after he felt like he had policy fleshed out, he would tell Anna what he wanted Asher to do. It was a simple formula, but in his mind it had worked so far.
“Turn things around?” Charlie said, smirking. “You’re not understanding me, David,” he said, knowing that using his first name annoyed him.
“People are pissed off, Charlie,” Asher said angrily. “I’m the face of this thing. If I can’t get reelected we’re done. That hick Wilson gets put in and God knows what will happen then.”
Charlie chewed on this for a moment. Anna’s eyes darted back and forth between the two as if she were watching a tennis match.
“I say we double down,” Charlie said, his hands making a steeple at his chin. He didn’t look at either of them but he could tell he had shocked them again.
Asher shook his head. Anna looked down at the carpet in disbelief. Without any response, Charlie went on. “These people are angry, yes, but what are they going to do about it?” he asked, looking at both of them in turn. It was meant to be a rhetorical question—one that would be answered during the coming summer. However, in the moment, it seemed to Charlie to be a legitimate question. He continued.
“They’re not going to protest in the street. They’re not going to show up at your house with torches and pitchforks, David. How do you think we’ve gotten away with so much in American politics? All of us in the Underground knew that we were a gigantic minority. Still, over the years we have pushed America to where it’s at now.”
He stood and began to pace around the room. “They’ll grin and bear it. It all depends on two things. We have a plan in place to use force if they ever do rebel. But before that, we blast the people with propaganda. Class warfare. We create a boogeyman. Not all of these people are Mike Wilson and Patton Larsen. Most of them are sheep. They follow the message with the prettier package. All you gotta do is bundle it right.”
A deranged laugh escaped Charlie’s mouth. He despised these simple people, his new neighbors with their trite, inane lives. Most of them were just like his father, who had never truly lived a day in his life. With Asher and Anna’s morale at a low ebb, Charlie realized it was his chance to reassert his control. He wasn’t going to hold their hands anymore. He was going to formulate the plans and these people were going to carry them out. It was as simple as that. Finally fed up, Charlie made a move to leave the room.
“Where are you going Charlie?” Anna asked.
He looked at her with pity in his eyes then turned to walk out the door. She stood and grabbed his arm in hopes of keeping him there and telling them what they needed to do.
“Anna, that’s very unbecoming of you,” he said with an evil little sneer.
She let go but the pleading look did not recede from her face. He felt some remorse then. He hated the fact, but he had to admit that he was still very much attracted to this girl. He still thought about her. Her passion. Her beauty.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked her finally.
She moved back to her seat, hoping that Charlie would do the same. He didn’t budge.
“Charlie, please stay. Let’s talk about this. David and I are new at this, right David?” she said to Asher pleadingly. Turning back to Charlie she said, “We need you.”
Charlie looked over at Asher who had his face in his hands. Finally noticing that he was being stared at, Asher looked up to meet the older man’s gaze. After a moment he reluctantly nodded his agreement. Satisfied, Charlie returned to his seat.
“So … what shall we do next?” Charlie asked, obviously relishing the moment.
Anna blew out a breath and looked over at Asher, who was still displaying his petulant, childish posture. “You tell us,” Anna said.
“I already told you. We need to double down. We need to keep pushing the envelope with policy and drive it home with propaganda. If that all doesn’t work we’ll bring Travis and his friends back to town …” he said, letting the words trail off. He let the implication hang in the air.
“What policies?” Asher asked.
Without turning to look at the younger man, Charlie said, “We need to ramp up the taxes, both on business and individuals. Value added tax to businesses and we really need to push an income tax increase. We also need a program to help families that are losing their houses. Lastly, we need to print some more money.”
“And when do we announce it?” Asher asked, seeming to be thoroughly whipped now.
“Next month.”
“What’s going to happen?” Anna asked, feeling a surge of confidence. Charlie’s arrogance was contagious.
Charlie shrugged noncommittally and said, “People will become more angry than they already are but I can’t see them doing anything about it. Once a government is set up, particularly through democratic means, the people are less likely to fight against it.”
Anna nodded, but inside she felt wary. Charlie was being much too cavalier about all of this. She thought they were on the brink of losing everything they’d worked for. Nevertheless, she would advise David to follow his advice and help him draft the new policies. Satisfied that the meeting was now over, Charlie stood again, much happier this time. Neither of them tried to stop him and he walked down the hallway to his bedroom.
Despite all the bad news emanating from Blue Creek city hall, Patton decided to throw a party at Jennifer’s house in town. All of his employees were invited, as were many friends. Frank invited Bao and the two were having a private conversation in the living room. Music blared from a stereo in the living room. Televisions throughout the house showed different sporting events, including the UFC fights in Las Vegas. The house was filled with happy people. Any neighbor that showed up to complain about the noise was invited to join the party. Some left bickering, but many joined the festivities.
Noticeably absent from the party was Mike Wilson. He was usually the life of the party, but recently he had been distant. Before tonight, Mike would show up, but would sit alone in corner drinking hard liquor. Patton and Frank were getting worried about their friend and colleague, but he hadn’t been working much lately either. The party continued on past midnight but slowly petered out. Frank took Shontae home but returned. After everyone else had gone, it was just Patton and Frank. Jennifer went to bed when Patton promised he’d clean up. Frank assured her that he’d help and keep Patton on task. They quietly cleaned up beer bottles and paper plates without a word. After a half hour of awkward silence, Frank finally addressed the elephant in the room.
“No Mike again. You seen him?”
Patton continued cleaning and seemed to be trying to avoid the question. Finally he shook his head no. Frank grunted and moved to the living room to begin cleaning.
“I’m worried about him, Patton. He hasn’t been himself since the e
lection and he’s gotten worse since everything started going wrong.”
Patton was worried too, but Mike’s recent behavior hadn’t been weighing on his mind as much as Frank’s.
“He’s adjusting, Frank. His mom died. His business is cruising along so he doesn’t have anything to challenge his mind. You know how he is.”
And Frank did know because he was exactly the same way. People like he and Mike needed something to get them out of bed. Since the election, Mike seemed to be wandering through life, looking for something important to do. Unbeknownst to Frank, Patton had something planned that might bring Mike out of his emotional funk. He wasn’t ready to reveal it, though, because he wasn’t sure it would work. Patton hadn’t even told Jennifer about his idea. She would probably try to talk him out of it.
“We have to do something soon, Patton. He’s not right in the head.”
Patton nodded. He understood the concern, but he wasn’t ready to commit to any sort of intervention. “I’ll talk to him,” Patton said quietly. “He’s just working through some stuff.”
If either of them knew what Mike was planning, however, they would have rushed over to his house and talked sense into him right then.
The dark figure turned his collar to ward off the cold. He patted his pocket to feel the weight of the pistol for the hundredth time. Mike Wilson felt like a James Bond wannabe, but, he realized, spies must do it like this for a reason. Here he was, a cold April rain falling, waiting to meet someone in a dark alley.
Mike’s business partners thought he’d changed. In a sense he had, but not in the way they thought. On the outside, Mike had been calm and reserved—maybe a result of his losing the election. Inside, however, something dangerous was brewing. After losing the election, Mike returned to operate his business. He desperately wanted to deny the governorship to David Asher, but he was never sure that he wanted to hold public office or to have that much responsibility. In hindsight, it would have been much better for Blue Creek had he won. Asher and his puppet masters had made a mess of things. Patton thought the negative outcomes were purposeful. Mike told him that it didn’t matter. Whether the results of these economic policies were purposeful or not, the result was the same—people were suffering. Many had lost their homes and many couldn’t find jobs.
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