David Pope
BATTLE OF MESQUITE
To my wife Sharon. Thanks for encouraging me to write.
I THINK, THEREFORE I AM,
NEVER SATISFIED.
The United States is reborn.
A widening rift between two disparate tribal political beliefs becomes a chasm. Fanned by the winds of emerging social-networking technologies, a populist conservative wins the presidency.
With the new president in place, his tactics to reshape America set off an even worse political climate. Both tribes, conservative and liberal, come to view each other not as fellow Americans, but as enemies. To resolve the problem, worried about future defeat, the president encourages the West Coast to exit the United States.
Accepting the offer, California, Oregon, Washington, Hawaii, and Nevada succeed from the United States of America. Together, they birth a new country: The Republic of American States (ROAS). With the US constitution as a guide, the ROAS changes the sacred charter with left-of-center principles and implements their new liberal democracy.
The United States, no longer constrained by a vast population of discordant voters, fulfills a single-party, conservative vision as put forward by their president.
For three decades the military capability and territory of the United States expands as does that of their two great rivals, China and Russia. As the traditional liberal democracies across the globe shrivel, the three Great Powers grow stronger, while the ROAS remains small and neutral.
In the last decade, the ROAS develops a sentient artificial intelligence (AI) platform more powerful than any on the planet. After revealing the AI, the three Great Powers become frightened by its potential power and force the ROAS to destroy the technology and abandon it forever. The ROAS agrees, but instead hides its prodigy as a hedge against future tyranny.
Now, US spies have uncovered the clandestine existence of the ROAS AI. Determined to have the technology for themselves, the US president devises a plan to seize it by force. To keep China and Russia from intervening and realizing their true intent, the US needs to fabricate a pretense for punishing the ROAS and initiating war.
Unbeknownst to the ROAS, one of the few remaining bastions of liberal democracy, they face extinction, as does the entire world.
January 4, 21:00 (EDT)
It was winter in Washington, DC. Outside, a snowstorm threatened, but inside the White House dining room, Republic of American States Trade Secretary Felix Manuel found the temperature balmy. The famous fireplace in the historic room gave off warmth. Over the mantel hung a large portrait of President Howard Tower I, father of current President Tower II and the man responsible for reshaping the United States’ political and geographic boundaries. It was Howard Tower I who had brought about succession and put in place the political foundation that had enabled him, and now his son, to hold the US presidency for thirty consecutive years.
With dessert due next and being there for business—a chance to reopen free-trade negotiations—Manuel was excited. Tonight, he strategized, was for building bonds and paving the way for negotiations to end a decade-long tariff war between the two countries. The dinner invitation to meet at the White House and discuss trade with United States Vice President Justin Ferrier had come out of nowhere. Manuel didn’t know or care about the reasons for the sudden US change of heart. His goal was to take advantage of the opportunity.
He’d been observing, noting throughout the evening how Ferrier, seated at the head of the table, enjoyed the wine. Excellent.
There were four at the private dinner, and two bottles of wine had already been consumed—at least one done in by the vice president. Ferrier, not yet forty years of age, liked to drink, much to the chagrin of his father-in-law. Married with two children, Ferrier had no shortage of sordid rumors about his sexuality surrounding him, with most claiming he was a closet homosexual taken to drunken bouts of inappropriate flirtation.
A week previously, when Manuel had received the unexpected dinner invitation, he’d decided to leverage the rumors and had asked to bring along his vice undersecretary, Franklin Ross.
Ross, a handsome single gay man, sat next to the vice president, trading humorous barbs and amorous looks. Manuel was pleased; the dinner was going better than expected. His idea to bring Ross was paying dividends.
Cynthia Ferrier, wife of the vice president and daughter of the current president, had excused herself earlier. Throughout the meal, drinking nothing but water, she’d ignored most of the conversation. Whenever her husband leaned close to Ross, she sneered in obvious disgust. Homosexuality wasn’t tolerated in the US, and Manuel could tell she was livid. Almost feeling sorry for her, Manuel felt the tension in the room ease when she left the dinner claiming the need to tend to a sick child.
Now, at a break in the somewhat drunken conversation, Manuel made his move. “Mr. Vice President, Ross and I have brought you a gift from California.”
“Oh,” Ferrier said, his eyes bright from the wine, “it’s been a while since I’ve been to California. I love the beaches and sunshine. I’ve got friends there I still enjoy.”
“Well, sir, it’s a lovely place.” Manuel caught the eye of the attentive head waiter and nodded. “The gift is from Napa Valley. I selected it myself. A heartfelt thank-you from the ROAS for the genuine hospitality.”
The vice president asked, “Which winery?”
“Summer Creek. A special reserve cabernet,” answered Manuel.
The vice president smiled, clearly eager to try the vintage. “I’d love a glass. And pour one for Ross.”
The younger man pointed towards a half-glass of white wine sitting nearby and said, “Soon as I finish my Chardonnay.”
Listening to the exchange, the waiter approached and poured a single full glass.
Ferrier snatched the crystal glass, swirled the fine contents, and raised it to eye level so he could admire the rich color. Evidently pleased, he took a deep smell and smiled in appreciation. “A toast to health, prosperity, and good trade!” Before anyone could match the gesture, the vice president took a deep swallow. After smacking his lips, he resumed his conversation with Ross, asking about the cost of decent lofts in San Francisco.
After a few minutes, in the middle of a sentence, Ferrier stopped speaking. Eyes wide in sudden panic, he stood upright, knocking over the expensive cabernet. While the deep red liquid spread across the silk table cloth, Ferrier staggered. Face turning crimson, eyes bulging, he stumbled backward, knocking over a chair.
Clearly concerned, the head waiter rushed over to help, but Ferrier pushed him away.
Unsure what to do, both table guests stood and, eyes wide, glanced at each other.
Red in the face, Ferrier continued to stagger. In a sudden lurch, he reached up and clawed at his throat. A moment later, dropping to his knees, he collapsed into a seizure.
Before the guests could react, two Secret Service agents emerged from a side door and bounded across the room and kneeled above the thrashing form. One agent squawked into a headset while the other lifted the struggling politician to apply the Heimlich maneuver. Before starting, he yelled at the dinner guests. “What was he eating?”
Manuel answered, “Nothing, just wine!”
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