Christopher Nuttall - A Learning Experience

“This isn’t a game,” Kevin said, lowering his voice. “Military service didn’t prepare you for being the leader of a new nation. Not everything is a nail that needs to be hit with a hammer.”

“It worked for George Washington,” Steve objected.

“Washington didn’t build a new nation completely from scratch,” Kevin countered. He’d read history, all history. Steve had focused on its military aspects. “There was Congress and the State Governments and quite a bit of infrastructure — and he still fucked up the slavery issue. Here… you have to build everything from scratch. You’re out of your depth.”

He took a breath. “I understand the urge to just hit back at the feds,” he added. There had been endless talk — so far, just talk — about greeting federal agents with loaded weapons, but Steve had made it real. No matter the justification for the raid, Steve’s actions were likely to have unpleasant repercussions. “But we handled the whole affair very badly. Right now, we have to look like Washington’s worst nightmare. A group of irrational thugs with advanced technology and a bad attitude.”

Steve looked down at the deck, then back up at Kevin. “You would have preferred to abandon the ranch?”

The hell of it, Kevin knew, was that Steve had a point. They — and Mongo — had grown up on the ranch. They’d run through its fields, climbed the mountains nearby, swum in its lakes, courted their first girlfriends in the haystacks… it was their home. And it was home to generations of Stuarts, ever since they’d first settled in Montana. The thought of federal agents swarming through the ranch, breaking furniture and searching their vast collection of books was appalling. If Kevin had been the one in charge, he didn’t know if he could have coldly abandoned the ranch and set up another base elsewhere.

“I would have sent them away with their dignity intact,” Kevin said. “Look, Steve, what sort of nation do you want to build?”

“A decent one,” Steve growled.

“Then act decently towards other nations,” Kevin said. “Particularly the nation that raised and trained most of our manpower — and the one to which many of us swore an oath.”

“We swore one to protect the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic,” Steve pointed out. “What about the domestic enemies in Washington?”

“We’re leaving them behind,” Kevin said. “Or would you rather wage war on the United States?”

He paused, then pushed on. “Let’s bomb Washington, right now,” he said. “Zap the White House from orbit. Smash the military bases! Blow up the Beltway! Burn Langley to the ground! Oh, and let’s make enemies of the entire American population while we’re at it.”

His voice softened. “I saw this before in Iraq,” he added. “And so did you. Destroying Saddam’s regime was easy; rebuilding a decent Iraq was hard. How many people resisted us because we destroyed their livelihoods, exposed them to their enemies and shattered their grip on power? How many others resisted us because they trusted Iran more than they trusted us? How many people fought because it was the only way we’d left them to make a living…”

Steve slapped his hand on his knee, hard. “Point. Taken.”

“This isn’t a fantasy any longer,” Kevin said. “This is as real as reality gets.”

He waved a hand at the console he’d set up, with the help of his interface. “This technology scares me,” he admitted. “We have spy probes in the White House itself! It wouldn’t be hard to blanket Afghanistan with bugs and track down the terrorist networks, then start obliterating them one by one. Or we could disable Iran’s nuclear program, North Korea’s nuclear missiles… hell, we could cripple China and Russia in an afternoon, without them ever realising what happened to their weapons. But all of those options are destructive.

“Steve, if we’re going to build a new nation, we need something constructive.”

Steve nodded, ruefully. “Very well,” he said. “What do you propose we offer?”

Kevin had to smile. Steve had been right about one thing. Sometimes, you just had to hit the bull between the horns to make it pay attention, even if there was a risk of being gored by an angry bull.

“Most of what Keith suggested,” Kevin said. “We have a handful of small portable fusion reactors, enough to supply the entire country’s requirements. We have superconductors that would allow them to make steps forward in producing laser and other directed energy weapons. We have medical kits and cures for diseases, including some that have proven incurable by current human technology. Hell, we have quite a few other pieces of technology we could offer them.”

“And we could offer assistance in going after the Taliban,” Steve commented. “Do you think they’d like it?”

Kevin shrugged. Afghanistan was a major headache for the government. They couldn’t commit the troop levels necessary to keep the country stabilised, which ensured that any gains made by American and local troops were often reversed when the foreign troops moved onwards to the next region. And yet the government didn’t dare try to pull out completely, having built up Afghanistan as the Good War . Kevin had a private suspicion that Afghanistan would end up just as badly as Somalia, with the added complication of American SF roaming the countryside, wiping out small pools of Taliban wherever they found them.

And besides, the debt for 9/11 might have been paid, but that didn’t justify simply abandoning the country.

“They probably would,” Kevin said. He smiled, then met his brother’s eyes. “We have a week before the scheduled meeting, unless they want to meet earlier. God alone knows what might happen in the meantime. So far, there hasn’t been a leak, but that will change. And maybe we should ask to meet earlier, if we can. The sooner we start mending fences, the better.”

Steve nodded. It was one of their father’s sayings.

“Once they call, set the meeting up as soon as possible,” he ordered. “I’ll speak to Keith and a couple of others, then… then try to make nice with the government.”

He paused. “But we won’t be surrendering our independence,” he added, firmly. He tapped his knee to make the point clear. “That is not on the table.”

“Nor should it be,” Kevin agreed.

Even with the best will in the world — and he had never believed that all government was evil — it was unlikely that the US Government could put together a plan to defend the Earth in time to save it. The Horde would notice they’d lost a starship, sooner or later, and send another one to investigate. By then, they had to be ready to take the starship out — ideally, they had to be able to capture it. A second starship would be very useful. If nothing else, it would allow them to send trade missions to the nearest inhabited star system and pick up alien tech and, more usefully, alien user manuals.

“But we do have to mend fences,” he repeated. “We cannot afford having the US government trying to either impede us or even just refusing to cooperate. The consequences could be disastrous.”

Joint Base Andrews, USA

Steve disliked having to admit that he’d been wrong, but his father had taught him — more than once — that it was worse to cling to something he knew damn well wasn’t true. He didn’t trust the government — he would never trust the government — yet Kevin had been right. He’d allowed his hatred to drive his actions, rather than sober cold rationality. Perhaps it was time to mend fences.

Mariko had agreed, when he’d gone to her and confessed everything Kevin had told him. She’d listened, then pointed out that men had their pride — and the more powerless a man felt, the more he would cling to his pride. Steve had humiliated the government and the government would want to push back, if only to maintain its position. But perhaps, if they talked openly, there was a chance to come to an agreement.