EMP Resurgence (Dark New World, Book 7) - An EMP Survival Story

by J. J. Holden

  Taggart resisted the urge to sigh. “Doug, the thing is—”

  “You and I both know that the cost of providing safety for these people have to be paid somehow,” the snake-man interrupted, “but they don’t seem to understand the costs and effort required to keep them safe.”

  Taggart grasped the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and let out a deep breath. “Doug, do you really think it’s best to antagonize these people right now? Things are at a delicate balance with the invaders north of Scranton. This may not be the right time to upset the applecart. Not only that, you’ve had it fairly easy since the beginning of the war.”

  “I’ve seen my share of trouble, sir.” Doug sounded righteously indignant, but then again, he sounded that way half the time.

  Taggart felt his irritation rising at being interrupted. Fine, it was time to set him straight, Taggart decided. “No, you haven’t had your share of trouble. Not really. You can’t understand how bad things got. Those people survived and thrived on their own, and it wasn’t until late in the game that I provided any support, much less troops.”

  “But, sir—”

  “Lock it up! Pay attention. Even the troops I did provide were mostly retired and reservists. The government did nothing to help them survive. I hate to tell you this, but they aren’t likely to see the need for tariffs, nor any need for our protection. Demanding one to get the other will sound like exactly what it is—a protection racket. Coercion. Hell, extortion.”

  Doug frowned and his cheeks flushed. His chest seemed to inflate as he wound himself up. “General, if we let this go, it sets a bad precedent. What will happen when the nation recovers and these independence freaks feel they owe us nothing? How can we keep them safe unless everyone pays for that safety?”

  Taggart held up his hand. “Stop. Doug, you’re a bureaucrat. You’re not a survivor, much less a warrior. The survivors out there in the real world have no use for bureaucrats. In fact, they intensely dislike bureaucrats. And you know why that is?”

  Doug’s cheeks went from pink to bright red and a vein on his right temple stood out, but he said nothing.

  “Because it was bureaucrats like you who let the country fall apart in the first place. People like you knew the invasion was coming and did nothing to stop it, because it wasn’t politically expedient. You just didn’t know how bad it would get.”

  “But now it’s time to rebuild, and—”

  “And I hate to tell you this, but the people who survived the Dying Times not only survived without government help, they’re the ones who beat the odds. They were smart enough to survive and thrive. They’ll see no reason to give that up just to appease a bureaucrat like you. Don’t get me wrong, Doug, this new nation truly needs people like you to organize and run it. The day-to-day operations are something I can’t manage well. I need men of talent, men who are loyal, if we are to rebuild New America. Men like you.”

  Doug nodded and a bit of the rose hue left his cheeks. “Of course I’m happy to serve in any capacity you need, sir. The problem is, I’m telling you what we need, and I don’t think you’re listening. We can’t afford to fight off invaders north and south, plus send aid to Philadelphia, plus defend this Confederation you seem to love so much. The only way to do it is through taxes. We need those to operate a government.”

  “We haven’t needed them so far, have we? Why do we suddenly need to change everything?”

  “It’s simple. What we’re doing now is fine because we’re in early rebuilding, and we’re at war. It’s expedient. But what about tomorrow, when people expect to get paid for their work and we need to provide something to replace the dollar? We’ll have to print or mint a currency. That will require employees. They’ll expect to get paid.”

  “Doug, we pay them already.”

  “Right now, we pay them in goods from trade tariffs. Everyone wants to trade with you because it’s profitable to do so, but that can’t be counted on to last. We have much that they need, but they don’t have much that we need. Now is the time to raise tariffs, because now is the time when it won’t hurt them much and will help us the most. While the flow of trade is so one-sided, tariffs only lower their profit a bit. I don’t think that’s too much to ask, and speaking as a so-called bureaucrat, this really feels like simple common sense.”

  “We aren’t going to raise taxes, or tariffs. Not yet. This is a conversation that needs to get tabled until after we ratify the new Constitution. Until then, we don’t have the authority to tax other groups. Technically, we are no more of a legitimate government than they are. I’m not alienating every ally we have over this issue. Find something else, get creative, do what you have to do—but no tariffs.”

  Doug clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes. He gave Taggart one curt nod, then said, “Yes, sir. I think I do understand. There is, however, one more issue that we need to deal with.”

  Taggart closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath. Then he opened his eyes, put on a faint smile, and nodded. “Okay, fire when ready, as long as I’ve got you here.”

  “Thank you. So, I’ve sent orders to the Clan to return our two troop battalions. The Clanners sent back a letter—basically, they refuse. They say the troops have lived among them for a year, many have married into the Confederation, and so they don’t want to leave.”

  “I expected as much. You do remember me saying that when we wrote up the order, right?”

  “Of course. The problem is, we’re at war. We’re under Martial Law. The military has full authority and that means they need to obey you.”

  Taggart snapped, “The Clan isn’t under my authority, not in practice.”

  “Maybe not the Clan, not yet, but the soldiers themselves have a duty to obey. We need reinforcements against the forces that stand against us in Scranton, or to even have the option of helping resistance groups in Philadelphia. Meanwhile, the Confederation isn’t in any danger right now and can easily afford to give up those troops.”

  “So you feel I should order all of them to return?” Taggart frowned.

  “When you speak to them on your little radio, sir, it is my strong recommendation that you instruct them to have our soldiers returned to us. Do what you will with my advice.” Doug then turned on his heels and strode out of the office, closing the door quietly behind him as he left.

  Taggart let out a long, frustrated breath. “You can come out now.”

  His office side door opened slowly, and Sgt. Major Eagan poked his head in. “I really don’t like that guy, sir.”

  Taggart understood the sentiment. “Still, he has a couple of valid points. We’ll have to raise taxes at some point if the government is to rebuild this country. Not only that, we need those soldiers back.”

  “Yes, but what are you going to do, send troops to retrieve our troops? Those people spent far more time with the Clan than they ever did in New America. Of course they don’t want to leave. You heard what he said about the Clan’s letter. Most of them have married into the Confederation. Their families are Confederation citizens.”

  Taggart nodded. “Regardless of its legality, I’m not about to create tensions with the Confederation right now. If we want to have any chance at success, we need them on our side.”

  “Cassy’s their governor, and I’m pretty sure the whole Confederation would follow her before they follow us.”

  “When I talk to her again via radio, I think I’ll tell them to send back the ones who are willing to go, and leave it at that. I’ll let them know how much Doug strenuously objected to that, but that I supported their position. Tariffs are coming, but not until after the Constitution is ratified and not where it takes food off their kids’ tables.”

  Eagan nodded. “That ought to keep them happy for the time being, and maybe they’ll feel like they owe you another favor for backing their position. Plus, this will give them time to get used to the idea of paying tariffs again, just like the old days.”

  “Well, not quite like the
old days,” Taggart said. “It’s not going to be as corrupt as the old system, at least not for another two hundred years.”

  “I don’t know about that, sir, not with people like Doug still alive. It’s good that we flushed the toilet on the old system, in a way, but I think we need to be vigilant against going back to the old ways.”

  Taggart could only nod. What else could he say? He agreed. “Summon Choony and Jaz for a meeting. Let them know it’s about the trade agreement they’re asking for, and give them a heads up on what’s coming down from me later. Do your usual thing and subtly suggest to them that we’ll need to get very favorable trade rates in the treaty they’re asking for. One favor begets another.”

  Eagan left the room again, and Taggart frowned as he felt the onset of a headache. Running a government was strange and alien to him, and he didn’t much like it. His thoughts drifted to the hypothetical upcoming election and how much he would enjoy being able to step down as president. If they could have peace for long enough to hold elections. “It is what it is, I guess,” he said bitterly.

  The only good point in all of that was the spread of the “New America idea.” People for hundreds of miles in all directions were excited about the prospect, and about getting their chance to join up. Philadelphia and New York City were notable exceptions, of course, but they had more immediate problems to worry about. Life and death issues.

  That was the reason Taggart had sent so many supplies to Philadelphia’s insurgents. If he were being cynical, he mused, then it was also to tie up as many invader troops and resources as possible in fighting the city’s growing insurgency. Keeping the two remaining East Coast enclaves in a state of continual native insurrection had prevented them from raiding too heavily into his own territory while he consolidated his hold and built New America’s strength.

  Maybe it was both, idealism and pragmatism.

  Taggart smiled at that thought.

  - 3 -

  0900 HOURS - ZERO DAY +612

  “I HAVE SOME new messages for you to send out,” Mark said to the radioman on duty, who leaned back in his office chair with hands behind his head.

  The radioman shrugged and sat up. “Let’s see what you got.”

  Mark opened the folder and took out two sheets of paper. He handed them to the radioman and said, “These are for firebases in Louisiana. Orders from the Old Man himself.”

  The radioman took the papers and glanced them over, seemingly disinterested. He began typing furiously into his computer.

  Mark knew that, the way the system worked, the message was typed in and the system then delivered it to the intended firebase, using a series of relay towers. It would be encoded before sending, and only the intended recipient could decrypt it. In theory, anyway.

  As he typed, the radioman grunted. “You’re sure about these orders? Given what’s going on down there, it seems kind of risky to send this many troops away east of Firebase Two. Any idea what’s going on?”

  Mark shook his head. “I think the General intends to throw our enemies off balance. Both orders are for troop movements, from what I understand, and I think it’ll get the job done, with that many troops running around.”

  “Yeah, but it leaves the firebases themselves vulnerable. But who am I to question the General?”

  Mark said, “Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who question him because of our losses in Pennsylvania? You know damn well that wasn’t his fault, nor ours. Sometimes, in battle, things just happen. Like the military folks say, ‘No plan survives contact with the enemy.”

  The radioman shrugged. “Well, for better or worse, the message has gone out to both bases.”

  “Thank you. I’ll let the General know.” Mark retrieved the supposed orders, then turned and walked out the door. He needed a walk, something to clear his mind and shake the fear that had washed over him all morning, ever since he had decided to go through with this plan.

  The radioman had been right, of course. Taking so many troops out of the firebases, without even vehicle support anymore, would indeed leave the bases vulnerable. Mark hoped the insurgents were smart enough to take advantage of the small window of opportunity. And because Mark had received actual orders from the General’s aide, any blowback would not fall on Mark himself. It didn’t matter that he had altered the orders before giving them to the radioman, because once General Houle questioned his aide’s loyalty, the Commander-in-Chief’s rising paranoia would take over.

  Mark’s nerves were shot. All he really wanted to do was go back to his suite and lie down for a while to let his stomach settle down. Unfortunately, he had to keep up appearances. He couldn’t vary from his usual routine. So, instead of lying down, Mark went to the chow hall with his usual morning smile.

  He found it difficult to eat scrambled eggs and waffles knowing that, if he were caught, he would likely be executed. There was simply no way he could sit back and let the General destroy what was left of America, however. Stopping a madman sometimes required risks, and it was a risk Mark was willing to take.

  * * *

  General Taggart heard a knock on the door and looked up from his paperwork. He straightened the papers he had been working on and set them neatly on his desk. “Come in.”

  The door swung open silently and Taggart saw Choony and Jaz, responding to his summons. He found it easy to smile at them and had begun to think of them as friends. Unfortunately, today they were on the opposite side of an issue. “Thanks for coming. Have a seat, you two.”

  The Korean and the blonde-haired beauty smiled in return and padded across the carpet. They sat in the chairs set on the far side of Taggart’s desk. Jaz said, “How’s tricks, general?”

  Taggart snorted. “You do have a way with words, Jaz. Unfortunately, this isn’t a social call. You two and I have something important to discuss. It has come to my attention that the Confederation leader is refusing to return all of my troops. Is that so?”

  Taggart saw his guests glance at each other. They suddenly looked like they felt quite awkward, and Taggart resisted the urge to smile. Of course, this was no big deal. He had already decided to let any troops stay who wished to. Orders or no, they would refuse to abandon their families, and Taggart knew there was no real way he could make them go—not without effectively declaring war on the Confederation, which was no option. Especially since, as far as he was concerned, he lacked the Constitutional authority to force them to return, despite the former president’s declaration of Martial Law right after the EMPs had struck.

  Jaz looked wary as she replied, “I’m sorry, sir, but I have been informed that your request is impractical at this time. It will take a while for Cassy to figure out who is willing to go and who’s staying.”

  Taggart smiled. “Well then. I will have to insist that those who are willing to return come back in a timely fashion. Let’s say, one month?”

  Jaz nodded. “Sure. That seems like a totally reasonable request, but there is still the issue of the ones who don’t want to go. What do you have in mind for them?”

  “I suppose that depends a lot on how many do come back. Once they are here, I’ll know how urgent it will be to get more of them to return. You know, there’s always the tension up north in Scranton, what with all the skirmishes with the invaders up there. They’ve created sort of an Iron Curtain, and it’s been hard to get my spies and scouts through the border. What little intel we do have suggests they are preparing for something, and it makes me nervous that I don’t know what. I need to have all my boys and girls back home so we can circle the wagons if the North Koreans come a callin’.”

  Choony said, “Yes, of course. We’ll get as many to come back as we can within a month, but no guarantees on numbers. I guess we’ll just have to go from there.”

  Taggart shrugged. “I do believe that’s an issue we can resolve between us. No diplomatic incidents are needed. There’s enough going on without us butting heads.”

  Jaz raised an eyebrow at that dropped hi
nt, but then smiled and said, “I totally agree.”

  Taggart smiled. “Unfortunately, there’s one more thing on my agenda for our meeting this morning.”

  Choony said, “I assume you mean the issue about the tariffs.” His face was a mask, unreadable.

  “Yes, that’s the one. My secretary of state says tariffs are needed if we’re to supply the protection merchants and caravans require. At the same time, the members of the Confederation seem unwilling to help pay for their own defense. What shall we do about that?”

  Choony opened his mouth to reply, but Jaz beat him to it. She said, “We do pay for our own defense, stretching from our settlements all the way to your western border. I imagine you would keep your territory safe and free of bandits and invaders whether or not we were shuttling supplies back and forth. Look, trade is only just beginning to really get going. Tariffs are going to kill that trade between New America and the Confederation. That doesn’t do anyone any good. You gotta see that, even if your pet bureaucrat Doug doesn’t.”

  Taggart shrugged. “Doug is a real smart boy, and I believe he knows what he’s talking about, which is why I made him my SecState. I can veto him, but I’d need a good reason. So, do you have one?”

  Choony glanced at Jaz, then leveled his gaze at Taggart. “I believe my companion here just gave you one very good reason, which is that any tariff at this time will kill trade between our two regions. Open trade is vital to the recovery for both of us. I know you asked for a statement of findings regarding a Clan analysis of the effects of a trade tariff. But it doesn’t take a data analyst to see that trade is too small and too unstable to start talking about making money off merchant backs.”

  Jaz nodded, then added, “Not only that, tariffs are like theft. We deny your Constitutional authority to levy tariffs at this point. That may change when and if we ratify your proposed Constitution, but that won’t be until, like, maybe this winter at the soonest. Any discussion about tariffs must be postponed until then.”