Out of the Ashes

The press was silent for a few moments, looking at each other, putting it all together. Each waited for the other to ask the first question. Finally, Judith did. “We were at that reception center, Governor. How many Tina Raineses are there in Tri-states?”

“Only one that I know of,” Ben said. “I gather from your expressions you were there when Tina had her ... small altercation with one of your colleagues.”

Barney looked at the ground, thinking: of all the people I pick to get cute with, I pick the governor's daughter. Great move, Weston. Super timing.

“You know we were there,” Clayton said.

“Yes,” Ben agreed. “Not much goes on in this area I don't know about.”

A photographer from the World News Agency was snapping away as Tina walked out onto the patio. He took two quick shots of her and smiled.

“Hello, again,” Tina said.

“You're a very lovely young lady,” he complimented her. “Very photogenic.”

She blushed, then sat down beside her mother, on the patio, just behind and to the right of where Ben stood behind a podium.

Ben looked at the press people. “One word of caution before we begin. Be careful what you print, broadcast, or ask about people living here in the Tri-states. We don't have scandal sheets here; yellow journalism is not allowed.”

Barney tore several sheets from his notepad and crumpled the pages, thinking as he did so: if I ever get out of this wacko state, I'll never come back!

“Governor—General; what do we call you?” a reporter asked.

“Either one. Ben—whatever. We're not much on pomp here.”

“All right, Governor. But that's a pretty stiff warning you just handed us. What can we report on here?”

“Anything you see, as long as you present both sides of the issue. Isn't that fair journalism?”

What it's supposed to be, Judith thought. But seldom is.

“Oh, come on, Governor! People are opinionated no matter how hard they try not to be. Reporting objectively has been a joke for decades.”

Clayton smiled outwardly at the reporter and inwardly in admiration for Ben. He had gone back and read as many of Ben's books as time would allow before coming to the Tri-states. He said, “I recall you writing, Governor, that the press enjoyed sending a black man to report on KKK meetings and an avowed liberal to report on the National Rifle Association's yearly strategy meeting. You haven't changed much—if any. I also remember your writing that the press is stacked with liberals and not balanced with conservatives and middle-of-the-roaders.”

“I still feel that way,” Ben said. “You people are supposed to be neutral, but you're not. You haven't been for decades.”

“I'd like to debate that with you sometime.”

“Maybe. I'll give you a reply when I see what you've reported about us.”

Each man gave the other a thin smile of understanding.

“General,” Ben was asked, “for the record, sir, just what are you people attempting to accomplish in this new state?”

“We are not attempting. We have created a society where the vast majority of citizens—I'd say between ninety-five and ninety-eight percent—are content with the laws they live under.”

“Constitutionally?”

“According to our constitution, yes.”

“A gunpowder society, void of human rights.”

“That,” Ben said, “and pardon my English, is pure bullshit. Law-abiding people have every right they voted to give themselves.”

“General, do you believe the United States could be a world power if dozens of groups like yours splintered off to form their own little governments?”

“Since the bombings, there are no world powers—anywhere. With the exception, perhaps, of the United States. Yes, I believe the U.S. could be built back into a power. Tri-states has not broken with the Union—just with many of its laws.

“I have written to President Logan, telling him we will pay a fair share of taxes to his central government—and it is his. Our share won't be much, since most of the money will remain here, doing what we feel is right and best for the citizens of Tri-states. We will not ask the federal government for anything, and we will not tolerate their unrequested interference. We will fly the American flag alongside our own flag; we will live under the American flag, and if necessary, fight for it, as a friend and ally. Our borders will be open for all to pass through.

“However, there are certain things we are not going to do. We are not going to give up our weapons or disband our army. We are not going to change our laws to pamper thugs, punks, and social misfits who cannot or, as in most cases, will not live under the most basic of laws. We are not going to be ruled—totally—by a distant government in Virginia, or abide by the mumblings of your Supreme Court. Make no mistake about this, too, ladies and gentlemen: we are fully prepared to fight for our freedoms and our beliefs—right down to the last person.”