The central government knew the people of the Tri-states had aligned themselves with the Indians of the West, working closely with them, and if they moved against Ben and his people, dozens of Indian tribes would join with Ben in the fight, and the central government of Richmond just wasn't strong enough to fight that—not yet.

  In the West, what the remaining tribes of Indians thought they needed in the way of supplies and equipment, they seized, just as Ben and his people had done. And now, with the help of personnel from the Tri-states, the Indian had what he had lacked for years: organization.

  The Indians held meetings with other tribes to decide what first to do; and they worked together, putting aside centuries-old hatreds. Where there had once been a scarcity of water, it now moved freely. With the help of “borrowed” earth-moving equipment from deserted construction sites, and engineers from the Tri-states, the flow of water helped irrigate the crops and cool the thirst of a hundred and fifty years of wasted promises, broken treaties, and millions of words from Washington—all lies.

  The Indians armed themselves with modern weapons, stockpiled millions of rounds of ammunition, canned goods, blankets, vehicles, spare parts, and all the other items they might need for war— when the white man came to reclaim land that was not his to begin with.

  The Indians built new homes, with modern plumbing and running water. They laid down hundreds of miles of water pipe. They diverted the flow of electricity into their own communities and built clean, new, modern schools and hospitals. Many reservations no longer resembled a nightmare from a hobo jungle. For now the Indians had had restored what the white man had taken from them: pride. Now they could live as decent, productive human beings—the only true Americans, really. They could have done all this decades back, had they been afforded the means, instead of being treated like animals.

  Teams of doctors, engineers, medics, teachers, and construction workers from the Tri-states worked with the tribes and became friends, welcoming each other's advice, each promising, if possible, to help the other if and when things began to turn sour and raunchy, as they both knew they would, in time. Time—a very precious commodity.

  No, the government in Richmond did not have the manpower just yet to stop the Indians or the Rebels in the Tri-states. Tri-states and the Indians would have to wait.

  Chapter 2

  “I'm tired of waiting,” Hilton Logan told VP Addison. “I know there is no easy answer, but we simply can't allow much more of this to continue. If those two groups ever get a really firm toehold—and our intelligence people say they are talking of a written alliance—it'll be the devil getting them back into the Union. Maybe impossible.”

  “The Union is still here, Hilton,” Aston replied, listening more to the drumming of the rain on the window than to the president. The VP often had a full-time job just trying to soothe the ruffled feathers of President Logan. Didn't the man know his wife—the first lady—was screwing half the men in Richmond? Her secret service detachment spent more time covering her tracks than protecting her life. Aston sighed. “We have to walk lightly, Hilton; don't want to kick off a civil war.”

  “I don't put much faith in the military's warnings.” The president looked at his friend. “They always overreact. Aston, I can't believe you think we should do nothing. Just let the Rebels and the Indians continue without federal guidance?”

  The VP laughed at that. “I haven't heard them asking for our help—have you?”

  The president shook his head, refusing to reply. Instead, he let himself warm to his inner hatred of Ben Raines. He despised the man; refusing to admit even to himself that it was not just hatred, it was jealousy.

  Aston rose from his chair and poured the coffee. “My God, Hilton ... our guidance got us where we now are. Our guidance cost the U.S. many of our friends overseas. Our guidance bled the middle class dry with taxes. It was our constant interference in the private lives of citizens that attributed greatly to the downfall of this nation. Guidance, Hilton? Goddamn!”

  “I don't happen to agree with you, Aston. People need a central point from which to seek advice and guidance.” He thumped a fist on his desk. “Aston, we've got to break the backs of the Rebels. Maybe cordon them off, fence them in; then take the Indians out first. Yes,” he mused. “Look, let's face facts. They've stolen three states, and they have no intention of returning them. Because of their resistance, many others in this nation have refused to hand over their guns, and many others are arming themselves with illegal weapons. We've got the makings of a damned gunpowder society in this country. When will people learn that when government passes laws, those laws are to be obeyed? It's for their own good! No, Aston, if we can hammer the Rebels into submission—for the good of the entire country—the rest of the nation will fall into line as well.”

  “Oh, yes,” Aston replied, sarcasm thick in his voice. “That's very good. The world is still stumbling about, attempting to recover from a germ and nuclear war, and you want to start another war. For the good of the country, of course. Hilton, leave the people of the Tri-states alone.”

  Hilton Logan rubbed his temples; his headache had returned. It always did whenever he discussed Ben Raines. He thought: God, how I hate that bastard. Even Rev. Falcreek hates him. And he loves everybody ... even Jane Fonda, so he says.

  “Aston,” he said wearily, “they've hanged and shot people out there in ... Tri-states.” He spat the words from his mouth. “Capital punishment is the law of the land.” It wasn't, and he knew it. “They've shut down the roads—or blown them up—turning the place into a damned fortress. Colonel Parr won't even go near the place; says Ben Raines is crazy in combat. A damned exmercenary is governor of three states. That is incredible. Aston, they refuse to allow my agents to even come into the place and look around. They threw an FCC inspector out—literally. Some nitwit named Cossman said if he came back he'd tar and feather him. Everybody carries a gun out there. My God, Aston—even the ladies carry guns. Those nuts are teaching war in the public school system. The entire country is an army! They—”

  “...Have no crime,” Aston interrupted. “And zero unemployment. And fine medical care—for everybody—on an equal basis. And good schools, and the best race relations anywhere in the world. And do you know how they've accomplished all that in such a short time?”

  “You're damned right, I do, Aston! By throwing out any person they consider an undesirable.”

  “That's only part of it, Hilton, and you know it. No—they've done it in part by education and partly because they've formed a government that is truly of and by the people. It might behoove us to take lessons from Ben Raines.”

  “Hell, no! Never!”

  Aston tapped a thick letter on the president's desk. “Here it is, Hilton. You read it. Ben Raines has made the first peace overture. He says they will pay a fair share of taxes to the government of the United States, to be decided upon; vote, live under the American flag, and fight for it, if need be. But they run their own schools, they have their own laws, their own way of doing things. Hilton, there doesn't have to be any more bloodshed. We could have a powerful ally in Ben Raines’ Tristates.”

  “Spitting in the face of the Constitution?”

  Aston smiled grimly. “We did—years ago. What gave us the right and not them?”

  “I don't agree with you about that, and you know it.” The president swiveled in his chair to watch the rain splatter on the window. Damned demonstrators were still out there, protesting something or the other. He wished they'd all fall down and die from pneumonia. “The damned Indians are rebelling, too. Just taking things that don't belong to them.”

  “Just like our ancestors did to them, a couple of hundred years ago.”

  “And it's all Ben Raines's fault,” Hilton said. “Everything is his fault. He ... if he were only dead!”

  And I've heard the same said about you, Aston thought. “Hilton, it's a brand-new world out there, and we're going to have to adapt to it. These are changing times, so let's change with them.”

  “I am the president of the United States. I give the orders. End of discussion.”

  “I don't like the sound of that! Hilton, something else: it's been almost five years since the military put us in office. Tell me; when will proper elections be held?”

  Hilton Logan swiveled in his chair, glared at his VP, then turned to once more gaze at the rain. “When I say so.”

  Logan was right to a degree about the laws in the Tri-states. People were hanged and shot. More than a hundred the first years; fifty-odd the second year; ten the next year; and none since then. It is a myth to say that crime cannot be controlled, and the government of the Tri-states proved that by simply stating they would not tolerate it, and backing up their words with hard, swift justice. But capital punishment was not the law of the land. They had prisons, and they were as prisons should be: not very pleasant places to be, but with adequate rehabilitation facilities, the violent housed far from the nonviolent, and weekly visits from ladies so inclined toward that type of employment— which was legal in the Tri-states ... and regulated ... and taxed.

  No one had to steal; there were jobs for anyone who wanted to work, but everyone who lived in the Tri-states and was able to work ... worked.

  During the first year in the Tri-states, there were marriages among the Rebels, as they began the job of settling in. Steven Miller and Linda Jennings; Al Holloway and Anne Flood; Ben and Salina.

  “Yes, suh.” Ike grinned. “Once that ol’ boy got himself a taste of brown sugar, just couldn't stand it.”

  Megan shook her head and tried not to smile. “Ike—you're impossible!”

  Bridge Oliver married a lady from Texas—Abby. Pal Elliot married Valerie. Sam Pyron married a girl from south Louisiana who kept the West Virginia mountain boy in a flat lope every waking hour.

  Nora Rodelo married Maj. Clint Voltan and took in five homeless kids to raise.

  Ken Amato became news director for the Tri-states’ broadcast system.

  Nora, along with Steven and Linda, took over the task of rebuilding the Tri-states’ school system. At the end of three years, they had perhaps the finest school system operating anywhere in the world.

  The school system, free of politics and top-heavy bureaucracy, concentrated on the needs of the children's minds, stressing hard discipline along with the basic educational needs of the child.

  Steven Miller, believing that the child not only needs, but wants fair discipline, and that a child's mind is chaotic, at best, ran a tough but excellent school system. His teachers taught, or attempted to teach, how to make a living once the young person left school. They taught music (fine music), literature, and the three R's—beginning at an early age. And they taught courses that could not be offered in any other public school in America: respect and fairness toward one's fellow man ... to a degree. They were taught that to work is the honorable path to take. And they openly discussed bigotry, the kids learning that only people with closed minds practiced it.

  In the Tri-states, public schools operated ten months a year. Every student over the age of fifteen was given five hours of weapons training each week, forty weeks a year, and studied the fundamentals of guerrilla warfare. Military service was mandatory.

  Physical education was rigid in the schools, from organized sports to PE. Everyone took part, including the teachers still young enough to take rough physical training. But it was done with an equality that is seldom seen in any other public or private schools.

  For in sports, Ben stressed that games were just that—games, and no one should take them too seriously. They were not life-or-death matters, and in reality, accomplished very little. And anyone who would fight over the outcome of a game was tantamount to being a fool. He told the young people that games were meant to be fun, win or lose, and when, or if, he sensed games were becoming more important than scholastic efforts, he would put a stop to them, and the schools would have intramural activities only.

  Although Ben had been a fine athlete in high school, he despised the jock mentality and would not tolerate it in the Tri-states. Coaches walked a narrow line in Tri-states’ schools.

  The young people needed someone to look up to, and they found that person in Ben and his philosophy. After the war, the young were confused as to what was right and wrong—and what had happened to cause such a tragedy.

  Ben, sitting on a desk in the classroom where he was conducting an impromptu question-and- answer session, laughed. “That is probably the most difficult question you could ask me, but I'll try to give you an answer.

  “Perspectives got all out of order, not only in America, but around the world. People demand freedom, and if they have to do it, they'll fight for freedom taken from them—real or imagined.

  “Our country, I believe, began to parallel the Roman Empire in many ways. Historians saw it, warned of it, but too few listened—until it was too late.

  “The Romans had great, unworkable, and expensive social programs. So did we. The Romans built superhighways. So did we. The Romans began to scoff at great teachers, philosophers. So did we. They had social unrest. So did we. They built great arenas so the citizens could go on weekends and watch sporting events. So did we. The Roman government became top-heavy with bureaucracy. So did ours. The Roman government became corrupt. So did ours. Right on down the line. And as theirs came to an end, so did ours.

  “Here in the United States, such things as patriotism, love of God, duty, honor, became the objects of ridicule. A day's work for a fair day's pay was replaced by greed; and if the product was faulty, the worker didn't care. Strikes became the rule instead of the exception. Craftsmen became a thing of the past when the assembly line took over and goods were thrown together with no regard for the consumer. Those responsible forgot that we are all consumers.

  “Morals sank to an all-time low. The sixties and seventies were times of great liberalism in America. It got out of hand and we went off the deep end, sinking more and more into debt. We came off the gold standard and began printing more money—without anything to back it. Just paper.

  “We had great tax reforms in the Senate and House in the mid-eighties, greatly lessening the burden on the lower and middle classes. But most of them never got out of committee. Money backed many members of Congress, big business. When they spoke, Congress listened. So instead of the wealthy paying the brunt of the taxes, the lower and middle classes paid them. It was wrong, but Congress refused to correct it.

  “On the world scene, the unions in Britain must share much of the blame for the country's downfall. Massive land reforms came much too late in Central and South America. Russia's economy finally collapsed. Guerrilla warfare spanned the globe.

  “Here at home...” Ben sighed and thought for a moment. “The central government became too powerful, moving into every facet of public and private lives. Big Brother came out of fiction to become reality. Our laws became so vague and so left-leaning, the average citizen did not even have the right to protect what was his or hers.

  “Anytime a government takes away the basic liberties of its citizens, it will inevitably lead to war. And it did.”

  “Will we have to fight for what we have here, Governor?” a teen-age girl asked.

  “Yes,” Ben said. “And probably very soon.”

  “Why don't other people just leave us alone?” another asked. “What business is it of theirs, anyway?”

  “Dear,"—Ben smiled sadly—"people have been asking that of government since the first government was formed. And government has yet to come up with a satisfactory reply.”

  Ben and Salina took two kids into their home, twins, a boy and a girl. They were handsome, well- mannered, and intelligent. Of course, all parents think that of their children.

  Tina and Jack originally had come from Arizona. In hiding, they had watched their father shot to death by a gang of thugs and their mother raped repeatedly, then killed as she tried to run away, in the opposite direction from where her kids were hiding. But she bought them enough time to get away. Neither Jack nor Tina had any love or compassion for the lawless.

  Their story was similar to that of almost every adopted child in the Tri-states. The young who lived through the holocaust, like their elders, needed very little prompting to demand harsh penalties for criminals. They had seen firsthand what permissiveness in a society can produce, and they wanted no part of it.

  Jimmy Deluce, Jane Dolbeau, Jerre Hunter, and Badger Harbin remained single. Jimmy flew for the Tri-states’ small air force; Jane and Jerre worked as nurses at one of the many free clinics in the Tristates; and Badger became Ben's bodyguard.

  That was not something Ben wanted, or really felt he needed, but after the assassination attempt, Badger announced his new job and moved in. He lived with the Raineses and became a constant shadow wherever Ben went.

  Badger idolized the governor, as did most of the Rebels and residents of the Tri-states, and would have jumped through burning hoops had Ben suggested it. He was also devoted to Salina, but not in any overt sexual manner. That thought had occurred to him, but once he had become so preoccupied about it he had walked into a wall and broken his nose.

  Salina noticed his attention, however, was amused by it, and finally mentioned it to Ben one night.

  “Yes, honey,” Ben said, laying aside the book he was reading, “I've noticed it a couple of times. But I don't know what to do about it. Has he made any advances?”

  “Oh, Ben!” She laughed. “For heaven's sake—no. I just think he needs a girl, that's all.”

  Ben smiled.

  “A wife, Ben.” She returned his smile. “I'm talking about a nice girl for Badger to marry.”

  “Badger's shy, that's all. I know he ... ah ... visits a lady—or ladies—at the ... ah ... house just outside of town.”