by G. R. Carter
“Delegation, my dear Samuel, taught to us by our father,” Alex replied. His mood turned serious. “I guess there are a few things I don’t know about, though. Captain Oliver, let me be completely frank. I’m in a tight spot here. Two organizations—nations, I guess I should say—that I care about deeply can’t seem to grasp the big picture. More importantly, they can’t seem to get along.”
“You mean ARK and Mt. Horab, sir?” Oliver asked.
Alex grimaced and took a draw of the rich smoke. “Precisely. You know ARK has been allied with the Hamilton family since nearly the beginning. Premier Diamante did business with the farmers of the Okaw even before the Reset.” Alex leaned over a bit in faux secrecy, “Not all that business would be approved of by the government of the late great United States.”
He leaned back and smoked a little more. Oliver waited in the silence, figuring it best to await a direct question before speaking.
“Captain Oliver,” Alex continued, “all of us have done things since the Reset that we can only pray the Creator will forgive us for. I see the faces of some of my decisions when I try to sleep at night. People’s fates I have held in my hand…I even have nightmares about allowing my brother to put himself in harm’s way flying attack craft. I make my peace by saying the greater good justifies the risk, justifies the costs.”
“Does it, sir?” Oliver asked. He wished he could take back the question in an instant, but Alex answered it without hesitation.
“I don’t know, Captain. I sincerely don’t. But I’ve concluded whatever decisions I make will haunt me all my days. Even after I’ve grounded my brother and forced him to take the Founder’s Chair, I’ll run these things through my head until I am relieved of this life,” Alex said. The crackling of the fire was the only sound for an uncomfortable moment.
“You’ll have to forgive our philosopher king, Captain. He gets a little melancholy and reflective this time of the year,” Sam chuckled.
“Ah, you flyboys are all the same. Cocky jerks, no sense of true depth. Doc says the altitude is causing air bubbles in your brain, and I believe it!” Alex fired back.
He looked over at Oliver for the first time, face to face. Oliver felt the uncomfortable weight of the single-eyed stare, like he was being scanned by RenOne. For the first time he noticed how old the Founder looked. If memory served, the Hamilton brothers couldn’t be more than early thirties, an age Sam seemed to fit perfectly. Alex, on the other hand…Oliver noticed the lines radiating out from his visible eye. Strands of gray streaked his close-kept beard, barely covering scars beginning at the corner of his mouth. His breath seemed slightly shallow, as though even natural action took extra effort. Alex’s voice shook him out of the stare. “Captain, tell me what you were doing on that river. Tell me what your real mission was, I need to know.”
“Honestly, Founder Hamilton, what I’ve told everyone is exactly what I was doing. I really thought I was chasing river pirates. I saw a boat matching the descriptions given by our settlers at Prairie de Rocher, and I gave the order to fire. I promise I wouldn’t have done that if I knew they were Buckles,” Oliver replied.
Alex stared at him through wafting smoke, waiting additional uncomfortable moments before settling a bit and replying. “I believe you, Captain. More importantly, my brother believes you, otherwise he wouldn’t have brought you here,” he said. “The good news is you’ll be returned to ARK within the next day or two. They’re going to come and pick you up via airship. I’m working to get your men and your boats released also. Though apparently, we’ve hit a snag in negotiations. I’m trying to get an agreement as to who can build what settlement where.
“Captain, my wife will be home soon. She’s been traveling around trying to organize a summit meeting of all the nations of the Midwest. That’s why Sam was at Mt. Horab when you arrived. He and my sister Essie are particularly close to them. Essie’s even engaged to one of the men you met at the table.”
“Bolin gave the Captain a real hard time,” Sam told Alex.
Alex nodded and looked at his pipe. “Shouldn’t surprise us. John’s a good man, a good Elector. I’m glad Essie’s with him. But there’s a lot of anger at the Electors’ Table towards ARK. Some of which should probably be directed towards me instead.”
Oliver couldn’t help but feel some level of surprise at how open the Hamiltons were being with him. The two were either working some sort of angle, or they were the most confident men he had ever met.
Alex looked back over at Oliver. “We’ve got to try to get these bad feelings ironed out once and for good. I hope you’ll agree to have dinner with us this evening. If you don’t care to, I won’t force you, you’re free to eat in your quarters instead.”
“I’d be honored, sir,” Oliver said as Alex waved over a woman in an officer’s dress uniform. This one had the Red Hawk symbol on the arm, but still retained the green shield on her chest.
“Now if you’ll excuse us, Captain, my brother and I have some things to discuss. I want you to have a grand tour of Fortress Farm Aronia Point while there’s still a little light. A couple of my Silver Shield senior officers will escort you. Feel free to ask any questions about the farm you like. We’ll meet back at six o’clock sharp for supper. And Captain, thank you again for your honesty.”
*****
“What in bells and fire are they up to?” Alex asked Sam. He reached down and scratched Tyr’s ears, a move noticed by Fen who nuzzled his master’s hand, begging for the same attention.
“I don’t know, AJ. They barely return my cables any more. We don’t see any Peacekeepers up on the Caliphate border. Only an occasional airship to fly a few bombing sorties, and those are always new ships with new crews. Like they’re just using it as training. You’re the one with a direct line to Tony and Nicole. What do you think is going on?” Sam replied.
“I’d only say this in front of you, but I’m not sure the family business of the Diamantes stopped with the Reset,” Alex sighed.
“It’s not like anything is illegal any more. They make the laws, don’t they?”
“Yeah. Tony essentially told me that one time. ‘The family business’ is exactly the term he used when he proposed regime change in New America.”
“That was still the right thing to do.”
“Agreed. But you and I would have never thought of it. Taking out Colonel Walsh was just second nature to Tony,” Alex said.
“Funny you mention that. Right before I left to come here, Elector Huffman said we needed to be careful.”
“Who did he mean by ‘we’?” Alex asked.
“I didn’t know at the time. But I think he meant you and me.”
“I never took Elector Huffman as a man to make threats against us. Is he really that angry?” Alex asked.
“No, no. I don’t think he was threatening us at all. He said it more as a warning, like there might be someone out to get us,” Sam said.
“Did he say who?”
“I didn’t ask and he didn’t offer.”
“Okay, let’s lay it out then. We’ve got ARK and Vincennes trying to get Eric to let them ship material back and forth across Grand Shawnee. I’ve got no reason to say no, but at the same time they won’t tell me what’s on the trains.”
He took a drag off his pipe, then tapped the stem on his lip in deep thought. “ARK’s clearing the river to the south. Evansville’s governor sent me a formal note saying that Vincennes is harassing their vessels on the Wabash and Ohio…”
Sam interjected, “They’re going to try and consolidate their hold on the whole river system. ARK and Vincennes are. Evansville is standing in Vincennes’ way, and Mt. Horab has always been a thorn in ARK’s side.”
“You’re onto something. Does Eric have a hand in this?”
“I don’t think so. He’s a lot of things, but not a traitor. He’d sooner try to take over the Republic than betray it.”
“Maybe that’s his play. ARK and Vincennes would help him,” Alex asked, playing o
ut the scenario.
“He’s smarter than that. He’d know once they put him in the Chair, they’d expect him to be their puppet. Or they’d take him out next.”
“And he also knows he’d become our mortal enemy.”
“There’s that, yeah. No, Eric’s a young man. He’ll be playing the long game, figuring to wait you out, then talk me out of wanting the Chair. Which wouldn’t be too hard at all.”
Alex rubbed his temples, fighting off the headaches that always accompanied life-and-death strategy sessions. “Doesn’t surprise me about Vincennes. Julia told me they’d never be a part of the Republic. But of all the things we’ve had to worry about over the years, I thought we’d always be able to count on Tony and Nicole.”
“Things change, brother. Uncle Jack once told me ‘An alliance ceases to be an alliance when the reasons for the alliance cease to exist.’ I don’t know if he could see this coming or if he was just trying to be clever,” Sam said.
“Probably both. I’m sure he’s terminated a few alliances in his time.”
“What about Nicole?” Sam asked. “Her and Bek used to be best friends.”
“They still talk now and then. Bek sent one of the Old Main professors over to work on ARK’s RenOne, supposed to learn how to network our older system at Old Main so we’d have computing power again. Nicole never sent the guy back, made a bunch of excuses why. Julia told Bek not to worry about it, the guy had been a real troublemaker for her in the old days. We wound up finding enough refugees with computer experience that we’ve been able to get the Wizards something to work with.”
“Yeah, Celeste mentioned that. I didn’t know that about the computer guy, though. Seems strange…but I guess it wasn’t rare for companies to steal employees in the old days,” Sam said.
Alex shrugged. “This Maxwell guy was spying on Julia back before the Reset. Reporting back to the government on everything Julia was doing. She put up with it because UNASA gave her a big grant to work on the lunar base.”
“Money talks.”
“I guess so. I’m going to cable Tony in the morning to talk about Captain Oliver, I might bring the subject up and see how he reacts. Still can’t help but think there’s a piece of the puzzle we’ve missed. You and I, we’ve seen too much to believe in coincidences,” Alex said. “There’s either the hand of God…”
“…or the hand of man, there are no coincidences,” Sam interjected. “I remember, big brother, it’s been preached to us since we were at Mayor Steinbrink’s school table.”
Alex leaned over and grabbed his brother’s hand. “I miss you so much, Sammy. I think about you every day. I wouldn’t have made it through these dark days without you. Mom either. What I wouldn’t give to sit and talk with you all night! I hope I’ll get the chance next week in Mt. Vernon. I’m going to insist we go through with this summit. And I’m going to insist that everyone attend even though it’s at Harvest.”
He leaned back into the soft warmth of the chair looked into the crackling fire. “And I aim to invite each and every free nation to join our Republic. How do you feel about that?”
“I trust your judgment. Steinbrink always taught us that truly free people won’t fight each other. At least not shooting wars. You figure to give everyone a place to settle their differences without resorting to fighting?”
“Exactly. A Republic that stretches for thousands of miles, shelters millions of people, feeds all them and maybe more.” He stopped and rubbed his head again. “It might cost you a chance at the Founder’s Chair someday, Sam. I aim to pass the job off if it helps get this deal done, and they might not want another Hamilton after I’m gone.”
“Is that supposed to talk me out of the idea, AJ? Because I’ll be happy to forgo the Chair. I’m serious, I really don’t want it. I’ve got Schoolhouse Hill to worry about, and my planes. Most important, I’d get to spend more time with Celeste and the kids,” Sam answered.
“Right, Celeste and the kids. A man’s only real treasure is his family,” Alex mused. “Let’s get you out of here right now, while there’s good light for your flight. I made sure that the guys got your plane fueled and ready. So as much as I’d love to sit and talk to you for the rest of the day, help me score some much-needed points with your wife. Go see her now, before another war starts and we all have to be away from home for a long, long time.”
Chapter Eight
Tecumseh House – Governor’s Mansion
Mt. Vernon – Capital City of Grand Shawnee Province
One Week after the Battle for Kaskaskia
“You can’t expect me to stand next to that self-righteous prig all night! Acting as though nothing was wrong and we’re one big happy family again,” Governor Eric Olsen snorted to his mother.
“I expect exactly that, Eric. You may be governor of your own province in the Republic, but Alex is the Founder. No matter how we feel about that hypocrite, we have to remember he could still replace you.”
“I’m a Republic Senator in addition to being a Governor, Mother. I have friends that will back me up,” he said huffily.
“You think those friends will be enough?” she asked. “You think those allies of yours are going to risk a fight with the Founder? Even if they do, what would you owe them after such a fight? Think this through, son, you’re not facing off against some local Unified Church Bishop who doesn’t like your reforms. It’s been a while since we’ve had royal visitors here, and part of being a noble is to maintain relations with people you don’t like,” she said, using terms foreign to them all before the Reset.
Eric glared back at his mother, half pissed off at her being right and the other half dreading the thought of interacting with Alex Hamilton for the first time in over a year.
“All right, mother,” Eric said finally. “I’ll play your game. But don’t expect me to be nice just because he’s a cripple.”
“Of course, son. He’d think something was suspicious if you were back to being best friends all of a sudden,” Maryanne Olsen replied.
Two Tri-S guards were in opposite corners of the ornate office, at ease but always attentive. Marcus Nielsen, formerly Malik Masen, stood a few feet away, trying to pretend like he wasn’t in the room. Eric caught the attempt out of the corner of his eye.
“Marcus, what do you think? You’ve been a great sounding board since you got here. Mother seems to listen to you more than me, so what do you think I should do?”
“Everything is an equation, Governor Olsen. By that I mean, what do you hope to gain by your actions? You’re a powerful man in your own right, but not yet as powerful as the man who holds the Founder’s Chair. You’re building a great network of allies throughout the Republic with the way you’ve turned around Grand Shawnee. Even some independent nation states like Texarkana and Clarksville are contacting us for bilateral trade. Perhaps you might use your connections to get a trade deal past the Senate. That collects you a lot more Quarters than settling an old score,” Marcus told him.
“Look here, Nielsen,” Eric said with contempt. “That ‘old score’ you’re talking about is the death of my father. Understand?”
“Of course, sir. I didn’t mean to imply someday you wouldn’t have a chance to avenge your father’s death, or that banking Quarters was more important than honor. I’m just trying to help you think through the plan,” Marcus said contritely.
Talk about a self-righteous prig, he thought to himself. The only reason you’ve got a Quarter in the bank is because your mother listens to me.
“Leave Marcus alone, Eric,” Maryanne spoke up. “You ask for people’s opinions and then you shout them down. Pretty soon no one will answer you honestly, they’ll tell you what they think you want to hear. Is that what you want?”
“Sometimes, yeah! I’d like to hear what I want to hear instead of you and your cronies always trying to talk me into something,” he fumed.
“Really, Eric? Together we’ve turned a religious backwater into a thriving province. You think that ha
ppened by accident? Or perhaps you think those Hunsingers did that for you instead of me?”
Eric snickered at the change in his mother. Decades spent as a doting wife and mother gave way to a political animal when Clark Olsen was killed. Helping her along the way were a team of intellectuals handpicked from the wave of immigrants brought into Shawnee. Chief of Staff Marcus Nielsen was a constant companion who helped guide economic decisions. Together, Shawnee’s population had tripled, and Quarters were filling the province’s coffers. Eric partially resented the brain trust, feeling as though he had become a figurehead in many ways.
His mood settled, and he gave his mother the smile she always enjoyed.
“At least I always know the Hunsingers are giving me the whole story. In fact, Skyler thinks I should make amends with the Hamiltons,” Eric replied, referring to his wife’s brother. “He says it’s in Shawnee’s best interest in the long run, and Maleah and mine as well.”
Maryanne shifted her mood to match Eric’s parry. “I’m sorry, son. You’re right. I just get tense when I must be around those people. I swear I’d rather have a nest of ditchers in the heart of Mt. Vernon than a group of Hamiltons. Let’s just see what we can get while they’re here, make use of their visit to profit the province some way,” she said. “Look, as long as you keep growing this place the way you have, there’s no way Hamilton can make a move to oust you. He gave you this post figuring you’d fail and then he could assign you something out on the frontiers and get rid of the Olsens for good. Instead you’ve given the Republic just as much as his cronies running New America…or America, or whatever they call it now. Soon more Quarters will be flowing through Shawnee than the Okaw itself. Just imagine how that could change the balance of power.”
Eric nodded, allowing himself to appreciate his mother’s advice. At least until the next annoyance.
