“Now what really happened?”
“We are providing air cover for the Italians doing their humanitarian rescue work. The Caliphate are killing every refugee they can get into their gun-sights. They blew a tug out of the water just a week ago. Usually just the presence of our aircraft is enough to keep things cool but this time it escalated. The public story is pretty much correct if you exclude the fact that we were covering the Italians.
“Anyway, we’ve had a diplomatic protest from the Caliphate. The warship sunk was a Djinn class fast attack aircraft, crew of nineteen. The Marines really did a number on her, no survivors. The Caliphate are accusing the crews of murder and demanding we hand them over for trial and execution. As your Foreign Secretary Mister President I recommend we tell them to go and initiate a maternally incestuous relationship.”
“Ramsey, what is the legal position here?”
“Mister President, in my opinion the pilots in question are guilty of a war crime in that they sank a warship in international waters. I rule that we are obliged to comply with the Caliphate request and extradite them to Caliphate custody for trial. I understand a Strategic Air Command aircraft was also involved and was probably carrying nuclear weapons. That also is a war crime.”
“Mister President, I must object in the strongest possible terms.....”
“Please, Dean. I will answer this. Ramsey. You misunderstand a fundamental part of our relationship. You do not make rulings. You, along with the other members of my Cabinet, advise me. Then I issue rulings based on my decisions that may, or may not, include your recommendations as I see fit. It is clear to me that our aircraft were acting in self defense and to protect a neutral ship engaging in humanitarian rescue work. We will not just hand over our people in the manner you suggest. Is that clear Attorney-General?”
“Mister President, America has been acting in this highhanded and arrogant manner for far too long. It is time that we made clear to the world that we accept limits to our power. We must accept that we are answerable to the world community for our actions. We must make amends for the crimes that.......”
“IS THAT CLEAR ATTORNEY GENERAL?” President Johnson’s voice slashed across the Cabinet Room. Ramsey Chalk settled down in his seat, a small, sulky, reluctant nod conveying his acceptance. LBJ stared at him until he was happy that Chalk wasn’t going to push the matter further.
“Ramsey, the reason why I wish you to drop this trivial matter is that I have something much more important that requires your full attention. This incident with the Caliphate is an unimportant matter, the sort of minor flare-up that will be forgotten in a week or a month. State and Defense can handle this incident. I need you to undertake a legislative program that will change the face of America in ways that will last for centuries.”
LBJ started to explain his Great Society program, stressing the depth and extent of the changes that had to be made and the fundamental alterations in the financial and legal structures required. He stressed the importance of the legal issues involved, the complexity of which meant that the head of the Great Society effort would have to be Attorney General. By the end of his presentation, Chalk was leaning forward in his seat, his eyes shining in anticipation.
“Of course Ramsey, a program of this scale and magnitude requires a very high level of managerial expertise. Your own time will be fully consumed in supervising the program and coordinating between the varying departments. For this reason, we’ve approached the consultants who already run several Government departments under the direction of the appropriate Secretaries to provide you with a professional administrative staff. The contract has been accepted by them and they are recruiting the personnel while we speak.”
“Mister President I don’t see the need for such arrangements.”
“I agree with Ramsey Mister President. These people from ‘The Business’ are greatly over-rated. Why in my department I have discovered enormous waste and duplication. For example, there are two aircraft, the Air Force F-l 10 and the Navy F4H that are almost identical in performance and characteristics. If we had ordered the same aircraft for both services, we could have saved vast sums. I have found another such example. The Air Force B-58 and the Navy PB5Y are also nearly identical, again a joint program would have saved the country much unnecessary expenditure.” McNorman sat back in his seat, directing a smug smile at the National Security Advisor. The smile faded as Orville Freeman, the Secretary of Agriculture, burst out laughing.
“Robert, the F-1 10 and the F4H are the same aircraft, just different designations. Same for the B-58 and the PB5Y. Same aircraft, just the sort of joint program you’re talking about.”
“Secretary McNorman.” The Seer leaned forward. “We’ve found using different designations for the same aircraft used by the Navy and the Air Force is useful because the different services have varying requirements. But, the missile system designations are confusing and we are introducing a joint services system for them. Attorney General, we’ve found an ideal candidate for your new executive assistant. Lillith, will you bring her in please?”
Lillith ushered in a woman with hair as gloriously red as Lillith’s was midnight black. For a moment LBJ was envious until he saw her eyes. He’d been expecting the magnificent mane of hair to be matched with emerald green eyes, flashing with fire. Instead, they had the flat muddy green of pond slime and so lacked expression as to seem lifeless.
“Mister Attorney-General” Lillith said “I would like you to meet your new executive assistant, Naamah.”
Rosario, Surigao del Sur Province, Mindanao, Philippines
Evening Mass was over and the traditional entertainment was starting. The Cathedral was in the town center where it belonged, looking out over the grassy square with its statue of Rizal. Families were already sitting down there, enjoying the coolness of the evening and exchanging family news with their neighbors. Not all of them though, the younger girls, the unmarried ones had already started their evening promenade through the town then up the hill that dominated it. It was a dirt track road, but a good, wide and well-used one. There were rumors that the road was to be resurfaced, given black-top in place of laterite. The rumors might even be true this time, there was a lot of construction work going on in the area around Rosario.
The hill top was an example. It had always been the local government area, Rosario was the local capital after all, but the buildings had been few and poorly-equipped. In the last year that had changed. The government had built a new administrative block up there. Nothing elaborate, that was certain, but functional and, above all, new. There was a sports stadium up there as well and the high school children could play basketball on a proper court now. There was another new building up here as well, and that had brought the citizens of Rosario great pride for they could now boast of having their own University.
Yes, the new construction and all the new buildings were a good excuse for people to make the walk up the hill to see what was going on. That was only an excuse though, the Sunday evening promenade had been going on long before the construction had started. It would even affect some of that new construction for down the middle of the road were a series of crude benches. If rebuilding the road removed those benches, there would be civil war.
Traditionally, by the time the young women had reached the top of the hill and started down, the young men would be starting up. And that was the whole point of the exercise, as the groups of young men and women passed, glances would be exchanged. Sometimes a boy’s interest in one of the girls would be met with giggles or ignored but sometimes the girl would return the glance with one of her own. Then two sets of parents would notice and, if they approved, there would be a quiet meeting between them during the week. Then, the next week, the kids would exchange glances and leave their groups to sit on a bench together, decently separated of course, and carefully chaperoned, to talk and get to know each other. And the older women watching would smile knowingly and start to anticipate Rosario’s next wedding.