Q. Did you think Texas was about to lose, Alvin?
A. Well, I'd like to think I had a little more faith than that. Thing was, though, I just couldn't see how we could win.
Q. And you kept close track of it on the news?
A. I tried, what there was of news. Things got really quiet once Houston went under. All you ever saw on the TV was more and more troops building up around that area of Texas the feds hadn't taken over yet.
They used to show us a lot of what had gone on, though. I swear, if I never again see some news type standin' by a wrecked bridge and lecturing about "criminal waste" or "lawless behavior" again . . . well, if I never do it will still be too soon.
There was one funny thing about them bridge shots. See, I knew the areas of a lot of them so it wasn't too hard to place where they were taken. And even when I couldn't place 'em, there was something always the same. Lots of trucks piled up on the north sides or the east sides of the rivers, waiting for a ferry to bring 'em across.
Now, I never did any time in the army, so I didn't know what those traffic jams were doing, not in any detail. But I figured, if they really needed all them trucks . . . and most of the trucks were stuck on the wrong side of some blown-up bridges, then they had to be short whatever it was them trucks was supposed to be carrying.
Wasn't just at the bridges, neither. Seems New Mexico decided . . . I didn't know why at the time . . . to throw in with Texas. Not that we got any details, naturally. But I did notice two things. One was that the "on location" newscasts suddenly switched from Las Cruces, New Mexico to Arizona and Colorado. The other? Well, when they started mentioning the governor of that state, Mr. Garrison, the same way they talked about Mrs. Seguin? I put two and two together and came up with . . . well, two. Two states, that is.
And I knew Texas wasn't alone anymore.
* * *
Austin, Texas
"New Mexico did it, Juani. We're not alone anymore," exulted Schmidt.
"Did what, Jack?"
"Adopted the full program. Nullified the income tax withholding within the state. Started rounding up federal agents and bureaucrats. Voted an expansion of their State Defense Force and National Guard. They've also ordered all highways and railways blocked. Though, you know, Juani, they don't really have a National Guard. They sent us damned near everything they had from air defense to medics."
Juani's face took on a worried expression. "I am not sure this is a good thing or a bad, Jack. What happened?"
"The feds opened fire on the people who were blocking the highway by Las Cruces. Killed a bunch of state police; some other people, too. Garrison called an emergency session of the legislature and they voted, almost unanimously, to join us."
An image of a disarmed and already occupied New Mexico flashed through her mind, followed by one of civilians and police shot down on the highway. Juani bit her lower lip and began to rock gently back and forth. My fault, my fault, all my fault.
Not one to hide an unpleasantness, even from an obviously stressed governor, Jack added, "But it isn't going all that well. We had some time to prepare. New Mexico really didn't. Didn't have the money either. And, like I said, what they had of National Guard they had already sent to us."
Jack concluded, "Garrison, the legislature, and about fifty cops are under siege in the State House. Their phone lines are cut but they obviously have some cell phones. And there's a local news team on site too. But there's not much food to speak of and the water has been cut too. Juani, they need our help."
My fault, too, if we don't help them. "What can we do? Give me some options."
"Out west I've got three battalions, one tank and two mechanized infantry, facing off against the 1st Marines and 3rd Armored Cav. It's a risk . . . I'm told that the supply status for the Marines and Cav is very low but I don't know it is. One of those battalions of ours was the one slated to go around 3rd Corps to extract our folks in Fort Worth. If you are willing to let them go under I can strip off that battalion and send it on an end run to Santa Fe. I think the other two would be enough to make the Marines and Cav dance around and burn up whatever fuel they might have left. I think."
"You'll have to break your promise to those boys in the WCF for me to do that."
Juani's rocking grew more pronounced before she settled back in her chair. "Don't ask me to go back on my word, Jack . . . please. I promised those boys we'd at least try to get them out."
Jack, here, was pitiless. "Maybe that was a promise you shouldn't have made, Governor."
Juani felt a wave of nausea wash over her. Dammit, she was a good politician . . . and a good politician keeps her word.
"Tell me what you think I should do," she forced out, painfully.
Relenting now, Jack reached a hand over and gave her shoulder a reassuring and comforting squeeze. "I'll tell the boys in Fort Worth they can surrender at discretion or try to break out and escape and evade. Then we'll send a battalion to Santa Fe . . . if we can."
"Can?" questioned the governor.
"Between where we have that battalion and Fort Worth there's some cover. There are first class roads. There are towns to hide in. The people are mostly our people or, at worst, neutral. Between where they are now and Santa Fe it's open and mostly flat and they can only hope to make any progress without being spotted and hammered from the air. The people there will probably support us just as our own would . . . but there are a lot fewer of them. No joke, Juani; it's going to be hard."
"Okay, then. It's a risk. But it's a risk we have to take, yes?"
"I don't know," answered Jack. "Garrison's too good a man to let go under. New Mexico's too good a state, too. They supported us—openly—when no one else would.
"But, Juani, the guys in the Currency Facility are good men, too. They're big boys now, all grown up. They know the deal and I'm sure they won't hold any hard feelings.
"Fundamentally, Governor, it's a political decision, not a military one. So it's up to you."
It's a political decision, Juani echoed in her mind. My decision. No one else can make it for me. "Do it, then. Tell the boys in Fort Worth I'm so sorry." And leave me with my guilt.
* * *
Washington, DC
It is so very much too late for guilt, and I am not big enough for all the guilt I have. I miss old Goldsmith, mused Representative Harry Feldman. Redneck New Mexican or not. He wouldn't have rolled like I have. Maybe I wouldn't have rolled—frame job or not—if he were here to buck me up.
A great wave of self-loathing washed over the New Yorker; a wave compounded of disillusionment, disgust, and despair . . . along with a heavy admixture of serious personal guilt. I have no excuse. I should have known. Ross was right all along, right about the important things anyway.
Feldman gave out a sigh that would have been audible had there been anyone else to hear it. There was not. He had found that he preferred to be alone these days; a rarity in a career politician. It was bad enough that he had to live with his own guilt and grief. Having to hide it from others, to "put on a happy face," while he was seething inside? That would have been impossible.
How did we let it get so out of hand? Everything Willi said she wanted to do for this country was right, dammit.
Feldman turned back to his speech notes. Later today he was to put on a speech in the House condemning Texas and New Mexico in no uncertain terms. Those were his orders from the White House.