by Glen Tate
“Simple. The laws will be simple,” Grant said. “As in, theft of up to $100 in pre-Collapse value is second degree theft. Theft of more than $100 is first degree theft. Second degree theft is a week in jail. First degree theft is between a week and a year. I think we should have a jury decide the sentence. You all live here and it’s your system. You should decide. I’m just throwing out the week and year thing to give you a sense of what I mean by ‘simple’ laws. Every single person out here needs to know what price will be paid for a crime.”
“Second,” Grant said, “the Constitution is how we run this. No unreasonable searches. In an emergency, of course, the constables…”
Right then and there, Grant just picked the term “constables” out of thin air. He needed a term for “cops,” but one that didn’t have any negative connotations to it like “cops” had developed prior to the Collapse. “Constable” had an old English or New England feel to it. A civilized feel. The term implied a part-time, citizen police force. He’d run with it and see how people reacted.
Grant continued, “The constables can run into a house if they’re trying to save a life or chasing someone. They can’t just barge into a house because they feel like it. If they do that, they’re not being constables, they’re being burglars and they should be shot like any other burglar.” That got some gasps from the crowd. Pow nodded. Grant wanted to emphasize that no one was above the law, not even him or the Team.
“Other parts of the Constitution,” Grant said, “that should apply are a jury of your peers. That’s very important. We’re not going to be like the former government that would fine you $10,000 for cutting a tree on your property and then not let a jury of your peers—who probably thought that shouldn’t be a crime at all—determine if you should pay it. Like I said, I would like the jury to decide the sentences. I think it’s reassuring to know that if you are accused of something that a bunch of your neighbors will have the power to acquit you or lower your sentence.”
“Also,” Grant said, “people are innocent until proven guilty. It makes prosecutions a little harder, but you know what? I don’t want to live in a place where I’m guilty until I prove myself innocent. That’s how the old system was, as a practical matter, and I didn’t like it much and I suspect you didn’t, either.” He was using this as a way to remind people how bad the old system was and implying that the Patriot system would be better. Because it would be.
“Of course,” Grant continued, “a person can only be convicted in a trial. A fair trial. No indefinite detentions. No military tribunals. None of that stuff. Trials will be open to the public, with a jury. Always.”
“Also, a defendant gets to confront his or her accuser,” Grant said. “That’s in the Constitution, too.” Grant paused to let all this sink in. It meant that if someone wanted to accuse you of something that could result in you going to jail or getting hanged, he or she had to have the courage to look you in the eye. No anonymous “tips” that led to someone who didn’t like you getting you in jail or killed. Here, in Pierce Point, operating under the Constitution, the jury got to look at the body language of the accuser and see if he or she looked like they were falsely accusing someone.
“A defendant will know the charges against him or her and will have time to prepare a defense,” Grant said. “He or she can have an attorney—although there are no other trained attorneys out here—or any other person to represent them. They can have time to prepare a defense, but they’ll probably be in jail the whole time awaiting trial so they have an incentive to hurry up. But, they can have all the time they need.”
“They’ll have the right to speedy trials, too,” Grant said. “They can have a trial within a few days if they want. A truly innocent person would want that. We won’t let someone rot in jail for a year and then have trial. That’s just like a one-year jail sentence without a trial. You will remember that with all the budget cuts in the past, defendants weren’t getting speedy trials. That’s wrong and we won’t have it out here.”
“Besides, it won’t take us months to prepare for a trial,” Grant said. “We won’t have motions and technicalities. We’ll have simple. Memories of witnesses will be fresh soon after the crime. We’ll get on with it. No twenty-year death row appeals, either. If you’re guilty, and the jury says death, you’re gone.” That got some applause, although that was not Grant’s intention.
“Evidence,” Grant said, introducing a new topic. “We’ll have simple evidence rules; the simple ones that worked just fine in this country for about 150 years until the lawyers,” some people laughed at Grant putting down lawyers, “started complicating everything. No hearsay unless one of the limited exceptions to hearsay applies. I don’t want third-hand stories, with no opportunity for cross examination to test the story, to be sending people to jail or getting them hung.”
“Oh, that’s another thing,” Grant said. “Cross examination. That means the other side questioning a witness to see if there are holes in his or her story. A defendant or his or her representative can cross examine a witness. We’re not convicting people with just one side of the story coming out.”
There was a pause. Rich asked Grant, “What do we do about the mentally ill?”
Grant was glad Rich remembered that topic. “Well, there are some people who, in peacetime, had medications to keep them under control. They don’t have them now. Odds are that several people in Pierce Point are in that category. We can’t have people being a danger to themselves or others. I’m not sure we can treat them, not without all the medicines we took for granted in the past. So we’ll have to keep them confined if they’re a danger. We have a house picked out around here that should do the trick if it comes to that. We would lock it and guard it. If people got better, they would be released. We’d have medical people evaluating them. It would take a hearing and a jury to commit someone. They would need to be a serious danger to be confined. We take liberty very seriously, but we also take community safety seriously.”
That about covered it. “Any questions?” Grant asked.
Someone asked, “Do jurors get paid?” An odd question, but oh well.
Grant thought. He remembered the old system where jurors got $10, lunch, and a parking pass. It was very hard to get people to serve on juries. Some of them lost hundreds of dollars a day by not being able to go to their jobs. Grant said, “Jurors can eat all day at the Grange.” That might not be a big deal now, he thought, but wait until winter when food is scarce. People will be clamoring to be on jury duty.
Mark raised his hand with a smile, “Who will the judge be?” The crowd laughed.
“Well,” Grant said modestly, “me if you’ll have me. I think I’m the only lawyer out here. The lack of lawyers here explains why things are running so smoothly.” More laughs. “Seriously, I will do it but I would need to be elected. And if I start to suck, you need to vote me out.”
“Judge Matson!” someone yelled out. Grant couldn’t help smiling. He flashed back to college when he told Lisa’s parents that he was considering being a judge. Now it was coming true, just in a setting no one could have imagined then.
“Where will the jail be?” someone asked.
“Rich and I were thinking about the abandoned place near here,” Grant said. “Rich, what’s the name of it?”
“The Schenk place,” Rich said. “She died a few years ago and it’s just going to pot. We’d have some guards there. The jail guards can be people who are not as able to do the gate guard duty, which involves more physical activity and probably more shooting.”
“How many would the Schenk place hold?” the same guy asked.
“Dunno,” said Rich. “If we fill it up, and I hope we don’t, then we’ll get another jail.”
“What about a mental ward,” a woman asked. Grant remembered that incoherent older woman they saw that afternoon during the census. Grant and Rich hadn’t picked out a specific place for that.
“We’re open to suggestions on a place for the me
ntal ward,” Rich said. “It should be close to here,” he said, referring to the Grange, “so we don’t have to transport people far. An abandoned place is OK, as long as it is livable.”
“Transparency is the next thing,” Grant said. “Everyone gets to see how everything is decided. Period. Pretty simple.”
There was a pause. “Well,” Grant said, “no one wants to hear a lawyer talk all night so, if there aren’t any more questions, I’m done. How we do our justice system out here is for you to decide, as long as it follows the Constitution and is simple and transparent. I guess you could decide to have a system that didn’t follow that, but it wouldn’t involve me or my men.” That was the first time Grant had thrown down the term “my men” and the concept that the community would have to fight the Team if they went astray. It was the right time to hint at it. Grant wasn’t going to participate in a dictatorship or vigilante gang. The residents needed to know that. The short speech he gave about the Constitution and decency was the time to make that point.
It was quiet for a while. Rich introduced the next topic.
“OK,” Rich said, “we have the Chief here to bring us up to speed on the beach patrol. Chief, take it away.”
Chief Boswain’s Mate (retired) Shane Eaton came up to the front. He had on work clothes, not hunting clothes.
The Chief went up to the podium and addressed the audience like he was giving a briefing to the captain of a ship. “We have twelve volunteers so far. All good men and women.” He introduced those of them who were at the meeting, which included Paul. It was good to see Paul had a solid role. Two, actually, because he was the metal fabricator for the gate and probably other projects, as well. It looked like Paul had lost some weight and was beaming with confidence. He looked happier than he had since Grant met him.
“We’ll have one boat on the water at all times,” the Chief said, “including at night when it’s a little trickier. We have plenty of boats made available to us. I’ve been told to get with Drew and make sure those donations are recorded,” the Chief said as he was scanning the crowd for Drew. He saw Drew, they waved to each other, and the Chief kept going.
“We will always have two in the boat for safety. We’ll cruise the water and into the open waters of the Puget Sound a little. We’ll try to conserve gas by drifting whenever possible. We’re there to detect any unauthorized craft, to board them if necessary, and to act as a deterrent. As far as authorized craft go, we are asking residents to stay off the water unless they absolutely have to be out on it. Try to get in touch with the Grange here and they can radio us that someone from here is on the water. I understand that there will be fishing and crabbing going on. We’ll work on a system of identifying friendlies. Speaking of fishing, we think that one of the reasons outsiders might encroach on our waters is to fish and get crab, clams, and oysters. We’ll tell them to leave and make an impression on them to not come back,” he said with a smile.
“In addition to the two on a boat,” the Chief said, “we’ll have at least one man with a radio walking the beach roughly parallel to the boat. The beach walkers will be looking for any unauthorized people who have come ashore. They will also be a deterrent. The beach walkers will be well armed and they will need to know how to walk up on someone undetected. So far, my beach walkers have regular hunting rifles. I’d like to upgrade if possible, but I understand that AR-15s are in short supply right now. I can use people for this who don’t know boats. So if you’re a hunter or, better yet, ex-military, I’d love to have you as a beach walker.” Grant noticed that this was the first request for better armament he’d heard. He thought about that basement full of ARs and how much they’d be appreciated. But they were Chip’s, so it was up to him on how, or if, to use them.
“I can’t pay you, of course,” the Chief said, “but my wife is arranging to have meals for the beach patrol. My neighbors down on the point are pooling their resources to do that.” The Chief waved at Drew again so Drew would know to get that recorded. “Our neighbors have plenty of deer meat and we’ll be fishing while we’re patrolling on the water. Get used to lots of fish, crab, clams, and oysters if you’re on the beach patrol. If you’d like to volunteer, see me after the meeting. Remember, no boating experience is necessary for the beach walkers.”
Rich asked the Chief, “How you doin’ on gas?”
“Oh, pretty good for now,” the Chief said. “We’re taking the gas out of our cars and trucks. We have nowhere to drive now. That will last us for quite a while. We’ll keep an eye on it and let you know.” More for Drew’s record keeping. Grant thought that Drew would need a helper or two and that gave him a political idea.
Grant said, “You saw the Chief motioning to Drew about keeping a list of who’s contributing what. There will be a flood of that. I bet Drew could use some help. I also think it’s important for there to be transparency on this. I want everyone to know the records are being kept fairly. So anyone and everyone can help Drew keep records or inspect them at any time. We don’t have any secrets out here.”
Drew gave the thumbs up. Grant asked, “Drew, could you use some help?”
“Oh, yes,” he said.
“If you’d like to help with recordkeeping, go see Drew after the meeting,” Grant said. Some people nodded and smiled at this. It was important that people didn’t think Grant and his relatives were running everything. Grant tried to always think about how the former government did things—secrecy, favoritism, stealing, thuggery—and do the exact opposite.
Rich could tell that the people, especially those standing, were getting a little tired. They’d been at this a long time.
“How about we take a little break and start up in ten minutes,” he suggested. Everyone seemed to appreciate that. Besides, the socializing that people were doing at these meetings was as important as the “business” at hand. People were meeting up and sharing resources voluntarily. No government needed. The more people did on their own, the less Rich and Grant had to worry about.
Chapter 112
The Ayes Have It
(May 11)
During the break, people were talking about having their neighbors over for dinner, having beach parties, which were excuses to share food, and talking about siphoning gas from their own cars for someone else to use. They were volunteering for the beach patrol and to help Drew with the recordkeeping. They didn’t need government telling them what to do; they were just doing what made sense.
Not everyone was sharing, though. Some of the residents stood off by themselves and didn’t want to talk to people. They looked like they were taking everything in, but not willing to share any information. They were probably figuring out who had what and weren’t going to tell anyone about their stuff. Grant was trying to memorize the faces of all the people who were abstaining from the sharing. He had a hunch they’d be trouble in the future. Political trouble and, possibly, security trouble. He needed help keeping track of them. He motioned for Pow to come over and told him what was going on. Pow agreed to help memorize the “selfish” as he called them.
Since this wasn’t socialism out there, people were free to be “selfish”—but only if they kept that selfishness to themselves. That is, if people wanted to be self-sufficient and not share, but didn’t ask for anything from others, that was fine. But Grant just knew they wouldn’t be that way. The people not sharing now would run out of whatever they had and then would demand that the community take care of them. That was the danger: the selfish demanding that someone else take care of them.
The problems from the selfish would get even worse as supplies got thin. Grant had to manage this now by setting up a good framework, like the Constitution as the guide, and giving public praise to those who shared, like with Drew’s records. He would also manage it by showing the residents that the leaders, he and Rich and any others that emerged, were fair and decent—and had the practical solutions to their problems. He and Rich would need all the credibility possible to weather the storms and challenge
s threatening stability and order that would surely be coming. Now was the time to build up credibility and set the tone for the expectation that the community will voluntarily help each other.
Rich called the meeting back to order. The first speaker was Dan.
He started by introducing himself. “Many of you know me, but for those who don’t, I’m Dan Morgan. I’m retired Air Force Security Forces. I spent twenty-plus years guarding installations and providing base defenses. I’m a dog handler. I’m running the gate. Here’s what’s going on there.”
“We have thirty-five guards,” Dan continued. “I’d say we have plenty, but we could use more. We can cover the gate 24/7 with enough men and women, but this is the minimum number I feel comfortable with. We can deter typical criminals, but my guys couldn’t repel an organized, let alone, professional, group of raiders. So I’m taking volunteers. We’ll feed you. I want to thank the Tuckers, Zimbalists, Mendozas, and…did I forget anyone? Thanks to all the people who are getting meals to my people at the gate. Protecting people is a lot easier with a full stomach.”
“We have two categories of assets in addition to our guys at the gate,” Dan said. “We have some snipers who cover the gate. Not gonna say how many or where they are, but they can take out individuals who might get past the guards. They can neutralize a handful of bad guys.” Some of the crowd, most notably Snelling and his group of yuppies, winced at the word “neutralize.”
“Another asset is my dogs,” Dan said. “I’m a K9 handler and have three attack dogs at the gate. They detect people trying to come across the creek and, for bad people scoping out the gate, scare the piss out of them. I patrol with my dogs up and down the creek.” Dan called it a “creek”; others called it a “river.” It was somewhere in between in size.
“I’m the only one,” Dan said, “who knows the dogs, so I’m limited to the hours that I can stay awake. I’m trying to get a couple of guys who the dogs get to know and can handle them.” Dan had an AK slung across his shoulder. He was a bad ass, in great shape, and looked like he’d been in a few fights—and loved every minute of them.
