Fortress Farm - The Pullback
Page 2
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Less than an hour later the conference room was empty, the attendees already in helicopters headed for the airport where private jets awaited. Johnson smirked, he imagined it would be a sleepless trip home for most. A soft as velvet voice broke him out of his daydream.
“Should we have told them about the earthquakes?” the voice asked.
Johnson shook his head. “That’s still unconfirmed. The whole thing is already over their heads. We gave them a simple, if catastrophic, problem. Then we offered them a way out.”
Pina Bastet alone remained with him in the inner sanctum. Even the guards had been sent away for now. Brilliant sunlight pierced through the shatter proof glass, ironically warming their faces with its touch. Twenty stories below, New York City teemed with life. Little ant sized people scattered and scurried on their daily routine. None suspected their fate or who was deciding if they lived or died.
“Do you think Aguilar suspects anything?” Johnson asked, raising an eyebrow to the President’s Chief of Staff.
“Pfft,” she said with a wave of dismissal. “I’ve got him busy tormenting cabinet members who still think they can make decisions on their own. I would suggest you make the occasional appearance though. He needs to feel like he’s in charge or he can throw major tantrums. That’s something we certainly don’t need right now.”
“Oh I’ve been in touch with your golden boy President. In fact I’ve already turned him,” Johnson said with a smirk.
“He converted? He’s been Catholic his whole life. Not like a practicing Catholic, but still it’s part of his family’s identity,” Pina said with surprise. “I’m his Chief of Staff! I’m supposed to be the person closest to him, and you convert him without me knowing?”
Johnson shrugged. “I was able to show him how our faiths could merge together. He’s vain enough that if you tell him he’ll live forever he’d do just about anything. And don’t pout Pina, it’s not in your nature.”
“Anyone else I should know about,” she asked, still smarting.
“Reed came right along with him,” Johnson answered.
“Well that doesn’t surprise me. The guy idolizes Aguilar. So you’ve got the President of the United States, the Speaker of the House, and you already had the Head of the Joint Chiefs.”
“Don’t forget the real power brokers of Europe and Asia. Plus London, Ottawa, New Delhi, Mexico City…they’ve had a hand in this sort of thing for thousands of years. Americans are just late to the party,” Johnson told her.
“This is quite a web you’re spinning you know?”
“Can’t be helped. If we’re going to do what’s necessary, we’ve got to make sure all decision makers are invested,” he replied.
“Invested is right. The money needed is astronomical. You sound so confident that we’ll get this bill passed. Most of the other nations don’t have to go through the democratic motions like here in America. There will be a huge uproar over the new spending,” she said.
“At first perhaps, but no politician can resist bringing home big pork for voters. We’ll focus on the cities, promise electronic utopia. Who knows, it might actually work for a while. I’m sure we’ve already got the votes lined up. Aguilar and Reed will keep both sides of the aisle on board. Worst case scenario we do it through executive order and regulations. Besides, we’re not talking about real money, it’s all just electronic digits on a spreadsheet. We can spend as much as we need and then poof! It all goes away with a key stroke. Most intelligent people realize that now.”
Pina shook her head. She felt overwhelmed with the complexity of their task. “How are we going to keep this quiet?”
Johnson thought for a moment. He watched a jet suddenly veer up, gaining altitude from the distant airport. The metal bird seemed to elevate like magic over the city below. Civilization stretched out as far as the eye could see. I’ll hate to see it all go. But who knows what we can build with a clean slate? Besides, I’ve still got a few years to enjoy it.
“Use distractions. Have the reporters generate some conspiracy talk. Vary the storylines, make things so crazy that everything gets discredited.”
“You mean crazier than us building underground shelters to ride out the end of civilization due to a coming ice age?” Pina laughed. “Oh, and we’re going to kill off 90% of the world’s population so that the chosen few can survive in comfort! How do you expect to get crazier than that?”
Johnson shrugged. “People are too stupid to care now, Pina. As long as they’re entertained they’re complacent. The NSA or FBI can pay a visit to anyone getting too close to the truth, if needed. Besides, anybody with the power to stop the project will be on the list. It’s in their interest to keep things quiet,” Johnson answered.
“What about the Hawks like Julia Ruff and her ilk? What if they get wind of what’s happening?” she asked. Even as a junior senator from a backwater town, Ruff had influence. She was a favorite among Midwestern farmers and small business people.
All Johnson and Bastet knew of the Hawks was their ideology, no details about membership. But they had a long list of suspected associates and were building files on them as quickly as possible. The Hawk label was something intelligence services had given the rebels. It simply reflected their fiscal beliefs, to their knowledge there was no actual organizational title. Rumors of her allegiance to the secretive organization plotting resistance against the Federal government were starting to filter back to DC.
“I’d be surprised if the Hawks didn’t already know something was happening to the climate. Most are from farm country, so they’re fanatics about how the weather reacts day to day. Their scientists likely warned them by now. But they aren’t organized like us,” Johnson replied.
“I know, but I can’t imagine they’ll just give up on America. They’ll be furious at the idea of us not even trying,” Pina said.
“We’re not talking about winning an election, Pina, we’re talking about survival of the species. Chances are they’ll do the same thing we’re doing, hunker down with family and close associates. Hawks think they’re martyrs, like they’re all about using their wealth and power to help the common man. But they’re too independent to have real cooperation. In the end, they’ll act in their own self-interest, people always do.” He sighed at the belief, well formed from a lifetime of experience.
“But you’re right,” he continued. “We’ll have to decide how to handle them if they get too close, root them out right away. The IRS has a line on who most of them are, we’re trying to get people inside of their inner circles. Hmm, better draft a contingency plan just in case.”
“Assassination?” she asked.
“Maybe, if necessary. But those attract so much attention. We’ll have Ruff followed, and some of her rebels in Congress. Even pay them a visit down at the bar where they have their ‘secret’ meetings. We don’t know specifically who the Hawks are, but we can certainly get to their puppet politicians.”
“That’s here in the States though, Herman. You know the Hawks have friends in Canada, England, Germany, even Russia,” she said.
“There’s nowhere in the world to hide when the power goes out Pina, you know that. As long as the majority of the population is trapped in cities when we throw the switch we’ll easily get the reduction we need. Any left overs will beg for our leadership just to get back some semblance of stability,” he said.
“I still think you’re underestimating how resilient the bitter-clingers are out in the sticks. I grew up there. Our Midwest is a powder keg of resentment, like the ghost of William Jennings Bryan is back. Central Canada is just as bad, they’re talking about trying to gain independence. They don’t like Ottawa telling them what to do, and they’re certainly not going to go along with DC influencing more of their lives,” she said.
“Nothing like that can make a difference. Not anymore. We’ve already passed critical mass, climate change is just accelerating what needed to happen. Those little towns are
barely hanging on right now, how would they make it without the major cities? Sorry but the middle of this continent belongs to the bison again.” He paused and laughed out loud. “They think they’ve been froze out of the system before, they’ll literally be frozen out this time.”
Pina shuddered. “I hate the cold. Why couldn’t Continuity give us global warming instead?”
Johnson was in a good mood now, enjoying the mental chess. Plotting against enemies of his faith always got him feisty. “Pina, She’ll reincarnate you a multitude of times before the real cold sets in, you’ll have plenty of time to adjust. Of course, I’m always available to help keep you warm.”
She returned Johnson’s suggestive grin, sliding her arms around his waist. She leaned up and whispered seductively, “You don’t have to wait for an ice age to fire me up.”
The Pullback
Book One of the Fortress Farm Series
G. R. Carter
…the great cities rest upon our broad and fertile prairies. Burn down your cities and leave our farms, and your cities will spring up again as if by magic; but destroy our farms and the grass will grow in the streets of every city in the country.
—William Jennings Bryan, 1896