by J. J. Holden
Choony nodded slowly, the man’s words echoing through his mind. Perhaps this was an opportunity. Cassy had given them authority to negotiate in the name of the Confederation, and Frank had done likewise for the Clan. This seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. As his mind churned, Jaz bought some time by asking the shorter man, “So, like, who is this ‘Dude’? Seems like a rather odd name.”
Squirrel grinned wide at that, an apparently spontaneous, genuinely pleased expression. “May seem like an odd name, but he earned it. His real name’s Nate Runke. Before the EMPs he was the Neighborhood Watch captain for his neighborhood. During the Dying Time, he made hard choices and led us well, and as a result, only half of his people starved that first winter. A few other neighborhoods completely died out, between starvation and killing each other, but under the Dude’s leadership, we stayed strong. He began raiding the invaders even in those early days, and with every raid, his people became better armed and equipped.”
Lance, the other man, added, “Then, when a lot of the other bosses wanted to collaborate with the invaders, the Dude refused. He went so far as to send assassins after the ones doing the most collaborating with them. A lot of traitor commanders died gruesomely in those early days, and it motivated the rest to at least think twice before welcoming the ’vaders with open arms.”
Jaz said, “Well I can totally respect that. Your Dude sounds like a capable leader. I can see why you give him such loyalty, but if you are from New Philly, then what really brings you to New America’s capital? Negotiating trade? Maybe a treaty?”
Squirrel chuckled. “You can’t pick my brain that easily, miss. I applaud the effort, though. But whatever our main purpose for being here is, it would be easy to add something to our agenda. Who would we talk to if we wanted to deal with the Clan?”
Choony performed a bow. “May I present to you two of Cassy’s personal envoys. How do you two like the idea of meeting up for lunch?”
“Yeah,” Jaz said. “We know a great place that’s still serving real beer and whiskey from, like, before the war and everything. It’ll be a lot hotter then, so I totally hope you’re not offended by shorts and tanktops.”
Lance was the first to agree, nodding his head with a wry grin on his face. “We’d both be delighted to meet you for lunch. There’s a lot we need to talk about, and you just dress however you’re comfortable.”
“Fantastic,” Choony said, putting as much enthusiasm into his voice as he could, “then we’ll all meet back here about a quarter after noon?”
They shook hands all around, and then Choony and Jaz walked away.
“That’s right, that’s right, we bad. Who’s the man? You the man,” she said, jabbing a finger into Choony’s ribs playfully.
“Ow, Jaz, that hurts,” Choony said.
Jaz just laughed.
“But seriously, we should ask around about those two and try to learn as much as we can before the meeting. We might learn something important.”
Jaz nodded. “You’re right. You still the man,” she said with a smirk.
Choony smiled and shook his head.
* * *
1145 HOURS - ZERO DAY +613
Jaz walked with Choony through the midday heat, heading toward the meeting spot they’d agreed upon with Squirrel and Lance. As they entered, she saw that the market was as busy as ever despite the rising temperature. It wasn’t yet the hottest part of the day, but the market would remain busy no matter how hot it got.
“It’s too bad nobody really knows these two,” Jaz said.
Choony had to stop as a man crossed his path pushing a cart laden with a combination of fruit on one half and what looked like sun-dried fish on the other. She didn’t notice right away. As she waited for Choony to catch up, she wrinkled her nose at the thought of eating sun-dried fish, and of having fish so close to all that fruit.
When Choony caught up, he said, “Then let’s go over what we do know about them.”
“Well, we know that they are two men from Philadelphia, claiming to represent those now in charge there,” Jaz said. “And that’s about it.”
“Except that they have been here only since yesterday, and they’ve made a few deals in that time. That tends to support their story.”
Jaz was about to reply with something totally witty, when Choony pointed up ahead and said, “There they are.”
She looked where he pointed and saw Squirrel and Lance as they rummaged through a merchant’s bin of spare parts. She had half-expected Lance to have dressed up for their lunch meeting, just as she had done, but as far as she could tell, he hadn’t even done his hair. She hoped that wasn’t a bad sign for the meeting to come. Either he didn’t know how scruffy he looked, or he didn’t care. If it was the latter, then it could be because he didn’t expect anything to come from this lunch meeting…
They approached the two men, and Jaz put on her most winning smile as they came to a stop near them. She was trying to win them over with a bit of her womanly charm, hoping it would sway them in her favor. She placed her hands behind her back and stood on her tippie toes. For some reason, dudes always loved it when she did that.
Squirrel and Lance smiled as they turned, Lance smiling bigger at the sight of Jaz, while Squirrel reached out to shake Choony’s hand. “I see you two made it. Jaz, you weren’t kidding about how hot it would be. I see you dressed for the weather. I wish I’d been smart enough to do the same.”
Lance nodded and, tearing his gaze from Jaz, also shook hands with Choony. “I hope you’re right about that restaurant, because I could use a real beer. I haven’t had one in six months.”
A slight gust of wind, smelling of dirt and fish, blew a lock of hair from behind her ear and into her face. She scrunched up her face and looked up, her eyes crossing as she tried to see the hair. She tucked it back out of the way and grinned at Lance.
Lance chuckled, and then began to look around. “So, where is this place?”
Choony made a slight bow, a habit Jaz was now used to, and said, “It’s about two blocks north. Shall we go?”
Squirrel nodded. “Lead the way.”
They walked toward the restaurant and two blocks later, came to a cluster of buildings. The restaurant had no sign out front, other than the pre-war one that still hung outside proclaiming it to be Finnegan’s Bar, ‘purveyor of fine Irish whiskey.’ Jaz knew that had nothing to do with what they served these days, nor was the owner named Finnegan.
“Here we are,” Jaz said, “Real food and real beer.”
Once inside, Jaz led the way between a few tables already occupied with people, their chatter filling the large, poorly-lit room. Near the back of the room, tucked away in a corner, she found a booth with benches on one side and two chairs on the other, a large table in the middle. It would easily seat them all and be far enough away from where most of the patrons were congregated.
Lance pulled out one of the chairs and smiled at Jaz, offering her the seat. She gave him what she hoped was a coy smile and then sat in the offered chair, which Lance then scooted in for her.
“What a gentleman,” she said.
Lance took the chair next to hers, while Choony and Squirrel sat on the bench opposite them.
They made small talk for several minutes as they looked over the handwritten menus which contained only a few options, such as various combinations of rice, beans, vegetables, and meat, which Jaz figured was either rat or dog. They also had beer—most likely a rebottled homebrew—as well as juice, which she knew Choony would order.
After a few minutes, an older woman stopped by the table and took their orders. After the woman left, they chatted easily back and forth about what things were like at their respective hometowns, how Philly was doing, and the various rumors they had each heard while in Hackensack. No one even addressed the issue of trade between Philadelphia and the Clan, for which Jaz was grateful. She preferred to have food on the table and a drink in her belly before beginning anything real. It gave her somethin
g to focus on if she felt uncomfortable, so it made a nice distraction.
Once the food and drinks arrived, Lance was the first to speak. “This looks really good,” he said. “We have nothing like it in Philly. Hell, people are still lucky not to starve to death, there.”
Choony nodded slowly and said, “That’s terrible. In most places, the Dying Times are over. Isn’t there a whole bunch of open land just east of the city?”
Squirrel replied, “Yeah, the ‘Eastern Territory.’ ”
“Do you do any farming there?”
“Some. But so do the invaders who still remain in town.”
Lance said, “Before, it was all controlled by the invaders. We fought over control of the farming communes they put in place through slave labor. We’ve gained control of a lot of those communes, but with the disruptions of war, many necessary tasks have been left undone.”
“You’re damn right they’re going unfinished,” Squirrel said, cutting Lance off. “Who has time to worry about weeds when the invaders are killing our children?”
Lance ignored Squirrel’s little outburst and continued, “Things like transporting the food back to the city have also become a big problem since all of it has to be done by manpower alone. We don’t even have any beasts of burden because they were all eaten over the winter or the year before that.”
Squirrel let out a long, deep breath. “The elderly and the children, of course, were the first to die. They’re still dying, mostly from starvation and disease. Without enough food, and with all the stress of living in a war zone, their immune systems just can’t keep up. Kids are dying of diseases most people didn’t even know still existed. Cholera. Typhoid. All preventable if we only had time to try to get the sanitation system working again.”
There was an awkward moment of silence that stretched on and on. Squirrel and Lance seemed lost in thought, while Choony seemed at a loss for words.
Jaz took a sip of her beer. Finally, she interrupted the silence. “So you would say that starvation and disease is Philly’s number one cause of death, right?”
“Yes, of course,” Squirrel said.
“What if I told you the Clan has methods for dealing with such problems?”
Squirrel and Lance looked at each other for a brief moment. Then Squirrel said, “Let me just stop you right there so you understand that we are aware of our value to New America. We would make a perfect buffer state between the invaders in Maryland and your New America, would we not?”
Dammit, Jaz thought. These men were smarter than she had anticipated.
“That’s true,” Choony said, “But most are under the notion that since the Confederation has a governor and is technically part of New America, that we’re not autonomous. Our function here is to negotiate for the Confederation—more specifically the Clan—not New America. Besides, Philadelphia’s position as a buffer holds more value to New America than it would the Clan. Just hear us out first.”
Squirrel leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. “Fine, go on,” he said, still seeming unconvinced.
Jaz continued where she left off, “We have the knowledge of new farming techniques that work in today’s world. These techniques far surpass the old world ways.”
Choony added, “If you try to farm the old way—the prewar way—you’ll burn your soil quickly. In a year, you’ll have nothing but weeds.”
Jaz cut in, “With our methods you could not only feed your people, but it will also solve your sanitation and disease problem.”
Lance seemed more than intrigued. He sat listening intently, leaning in. Jaz noted he hadn’t even taken a bite of his food since the discussion turned to what the Clan had to offer. Finally, he broke his trance and said, “How?”
“Well,” Jaz said, “I can’t just be giving away, like, all our secrets, now can I? What I can offer is a trained consultant to come out and teach your people our methods.” Jaz took a dramatic pause that she had mastered in the days of being a persuasive envoy. She traced the rim of her cup with her finger, then said, “Of course, such consulting would come at a price.”
“Of course it would,” Squirrel said, “but right now we don’t have enough supplies to go around. I don’t see what we could even offer in return.”
Choony said, “I guess it depends on how close of a friendship Philadelphia wants to have with the Confederation.”
“I’m not even sure what that means,” Squirrel said, eyeing both Choony and Jaz suspiciously.
Jaz smiled. “I think what my partner is trying to say is, like, perhaps we can set up a short-term loan—feed your people now until you start producing.”
“No way,” Squirrel said, “I have survived this new world long enough to know that everything comes with a hefty price. You basically said so yourself. Even an innocent loan comes with a mountain of interest.”
“Squirrel, you misunderstand—”
“Darling, I don’t think I do. You may have the wool pulled over my friend’s eyes with your little daisy dukes, but it’ll take a lot more than some skimpy outfit to dupe me.”
Jaz’s eyes went wide. She hadn’t expected this reaction. She looked over at Choony and noticed his body language appeared to be calm and carefree, but she knew him well enough to see his telltale signs of stress.
“My understanding,” Choony said, “is that you still have people who are hungry and dying. You won’t find an offer like this anywhere else.”
“Absolutely,” Lance said with a smile, “but our leader will have to look at any offer’s totality of circumstances before deciding which way to go, north or south.”
Choony furrowed his brow. “South?”
“Oh, did I forget to mention,” Squirrel said, unfolding his arms, “we’re also negotiating with the Maryland invaders. My apologies.”
Damn, these guys were really good, Jaz thought, excitement welling up in her chest.
Choony looked horrified. “Are you saying that your leader is actually considering a deal with the very people who caused you all so much pain and loss?”
Lance shrugged. “Tough times call for tough measures.”
“But why would you even consider talking to them?” Choony said.
“I think it’s obvious,” Lance said.
Choony and Jaz remained quiet. Jaz just couldn’t see the obviousness or the benefits of being allies with the invaders.
Lance simply answered, “Loyalty.”
“Loyalty?” Jaz asked.
Squirrel smiled condescendingly. “When we negotiate our official freedom and our border with the invaders—because no one wants a long, drawn-out war, especially over something as arbitrary as a border—then our loyalty and an alliance is a powerful bargaining chip.”
“That totally sounds weak to me,” Jaz said.
“If the only way to end the war for us is to basically swear fealty to them, like some medieval baron, then that’s a powerful motivation to do it.”
“Don’t you think as Americans we should be resisting the invaders?” Jaz asked.
Squirrel stifled a chuckle. “Sweetheart, I hate to be the one to inform you, but there is no America anymore.”
Sweetheart? Jaz thought. Now this guy was just asking to be slugged. “I think you’re wrong. There is an America. Travel anywhere around here and you’ll see it.”
“If your people are so patriotic,” Squirrel said, “then let me ask you something. The president of New America is an active duty soldier. Is that right?”
Jaz glared at Squirrel and held it as if not to back down. She had a feeling she knew where he was going with this, but she couldn’t show any signs of weakness now.
Squirrel didn’t wait long for her to answer. He leaned in close, almost in Jaz’s face, and said, “Last time I checked, it was unconstitutional for an active duty military person to serve as president. For another, the only people who voted General Taggart into office were the very people relying on him directly for their food and protection.” Squirrel leaned back. “Th
at would make him—oh, what’s the word,” he said, snapping his fingers, “a warlord. Not a president. So I wouldn’t say either of us are saints of America.”
Silence hung in the air for a moment as Jaz tried to collect her thoughts. She almost couldn’t help but admire the guy. He had done his homework. But how the hell was she going to convince him to, at the very least, consider a deal with the Confederation?
Choony looked at Jaz and then diverted his gaze back to the two Philly envoys. “True,” he said, “but did you know there is a new Constitution on the table being debated as we speak?”
Neither Squirrel nor Lance responded. Good, it was their turn to be silent. Jaz almost forgot about the constitution. Now, where was Choony going with this?
Choony continued, “It seems to me that you would benefit from being a part of those proceedings. Your concerns lie in that we might just take what we want from you and then leave you and your people, how you say, high and dry.”
“What are you saying?” Lance said.
“What I am saying is that your leader could select someone, including himself, to be the governor of Philadelphia Territory.”
Jaz wondered why she hadn’t thought of that. Thank you, Choony. It was totally brilliant. Jaz said, “Ultimately, that would mean Philadelphia could ensure its needs get met and its concerns are addressed through this constitution.”
Lance perked up. “That is definitely something to consider. We could recommend sending an envoy to Clanholme to work on the agreement with your representatives there.”
Squirrel interjected, “Hold up. What’s the bottom line here? How would you expect us to pay the loan?”
“Obviously there are many details to work out,” Choony said, “but I suppose a percentage of your agricultural production could be one way.”
Squirrel was quick to reply, “That’s if your allegedly superior agricultural methods begin to produce.”
