“I cannot say. At least a week. The building where they were housed was damaged by shelling, but the machines were not harmed.”
Trevor said, “That’s good news. Who’s next?”
Evan Godfrey occupied the seat alongside Omar.
“There are too many kids going hungry,” he looked to Eva Rheimmer and added, “I think Eva and her people are doing an incredibly good job. However, I did a little checking and found there are several bridges destroyed during last spring’s retreat that otherwise would provide more direct routes to some of the outlying settlements. We re-took the ground during the summer, but the bridges have not been repaired.”
“Lots of things need to be repaired, Evan,” Jon Brewer said. “I can name half-a-dozen airports that could do us some good if we had the time and manpower to pave the runways. Most secondary roads are in horrible shape, and ports in Delaware and New Jersey need serious attention. None of that can be done without sacrificing somewhere else.”
“Yes, I know,” Evan agreed. “In the past thirty days Trenton has lacked power for more than three weeks. Five thousand people live there and it’s the regional hub for supply distribution, security, and medical facilities yet we cannot keep the lights on most days! I suggest we slow our advance against the Hivvans to secure our infrastructure and deal with the population currently under our control. It does no good to liberate ‘survivors’ only to have them starve here.”
Knox said, “Tell you what, Evan, why don’t we have you parachute into Columbia, South Carolina and ask the human slaves there if they want to join us now or would mind waiting until we sort all the bugs out of the system.”
“That’s not the point but if you want to go that way, fine. Eva and Dante just told you about how much havoc things are causing behind our lines. Internal Security is short of manpower and weapons, let alone vehicles and fuel. The attacks on our civilians, our trains, and our supply depots prove that we’re not as secure as you think!”
Anita Nehru stroked her long, dark hair and explained, “Actually, I think the attacks on the trains and the supply depots demonstrate that the predators in our rear areas are becoming desperate. The Hunter-Killer teams have been effective in wiping out alien life forms, reducing the prey animals and forcing the predators to become bolder.”
Evan Godfrey, however, kept rolling.
“That’s another point. Why are we killing every single animal that came here? Most of those animals are not dangerous; they’re the equivalent of rabbits, pigs, and horses from other worlds. From what I can tell, animals like chew-cows and horned fur-pheasants could be harvested for edible meat or have glands that produce drinkable liquids.”
Lori Brewer raised a hand to her mouth and gagged.
Gordon Knox offered, “Evan, I will personally serve you up a helping of broiled rat-thing if you’d like.”
Before Godfrey could respond, Trevor told them, “No. I have told everyone at this table before and I will say it again: any animal that does not belong on this Earth is to be destroyed and disposed of. There can be no exceptions.”
“And so says Trevor Stone,” Evan mocked.
“Yes, so says I. Next order of business.”
“I’m not finished.”
Trevor said, “I didn’t hear one word about housing, Evan. You were too busy worrying about everything else. If you have issues in your specific area of responsibility, submit them in writing. Next.”
Lori Brewer coughed to clear away the gag induced by Evan’s food suggestions and consulted a binder of notes as she spoke.
“I talked to Trevor about this earlier in the week; he said to bring it up here so here it is. We have to consider starting some kind of currency. Right now, our ‘economy’ is made up of barter, charity, and handouts. If you want to get your haircut, you trade a pair of shoes. Need a new chain for your bicycle? Then you better have some bullets, eyeglasses, or chocolate to trade. Of course, I’m not even going to get into people trading sex for stuff or the fact that indentured servitude has come back into style.”
Jon Brewer asked, “What about bringing dollars back? Plenty of them around.”
Godfrey responded, “That’s the problem, they have no value. In the winter people were burning bucks to stay warm.”
“So?”
“So, General, a currency has to have a value attached to it. You can’t just say ‘hey, ten dollars buys you a haircut, folks.’ It’s not that simple,” Godfrey shot.
Trevor sighed. “Actual dollar bills aren’t really worth anything now that there’s no U.S. government backing them. We can’t just go out, hit the banks, and collect as many as we can find then call them our new money.”
“At the same time,” Lori said. “No one is being paid for their work. Without compensation, how long will people want to work in a factory? Who wants to be a garbage man?”
Evan joined in, “Without a formal currency there will be no economy. If we have a real economy, the result will be improved production and a more involved work force. You’ll also get investment and entrepreneurism.”
“Just like the old days?” Trevor asked with skepticism in his voice. “We can’t turn the clock back, Evan.”
“Just stop and listen for a second, Trevor. The only incentive people have right now is to survive. In the short term that works because people are just glad to get a ration of food and a warm place to sleep. In the long term, it is doomed to fail. You have to give consideration to creating a currency and developing some kind of economic foundation. Eventually your war will grind to a halt because you won’t have the bullets, food, or fuel to keep pushing forward, matter-makers or not.”
Before Trevor could respond, Lori Brewer agreed. “Evan is right. We’re not a little lakeside community anymore. I was a counselor in the old days, not an economist, but even I see that we have to build some kind of economic foundation.”
Trevor closed his eyes, pinched his nose, and said, “Okay, okay. I get it. Lori, I want you and Evan to put together a group to come up with a proposal. Find the best financial minds.”
Brewer said, “There’s a sergeant in 2 ^ nd Mech who used to work for the SEC. I think he spent time in jail for some sort of insider trading or something. I can get you his name.”
“See, that type of thing,” Trevor nodded. “Sit down, work it out, and then we’ll make some decisions.”
“Good, great,” Lori said. “This brings me to another question. Kind of a dumb question, actually, but something we have to address. For the last four years, we’ve been fighting and expanding. Hundreds of thousands of people are now a part of this whole thing. We’ve got cities, regional governors, armies, and-I guess sometime soon-money.”
Trevor grunted, “So what’s the question?”
“The question is, what are we calling ourselves?”
“Huh?”
Lori rephrased, “What do I put on my letterhead? What are we? Who are we? There are only so many times you can say ‘the community’ or ‘mankind’s new nation’ or whatnot. Are we a country? A city? Are we Trevor’s great nation of wonderful folks?”
“I see,” Trevor came to understand the question.
“We’re Americans,” Jon Brewer said.
Trevor thought of the thousands of ‘foreigners’ who were a part of the effort; visitors and tourists in the United States when Armageddon struck. Many served in his military, shedding their blood not for ‘America‘ but for mankind.
“No, that’s not right,” Trevor said. “We have people fighting and dying for the cause who weren’t American citizens. We have to discard those old boundaries.”
A variety of suggestions bounced around the room
“Human Nation.”
“The Coalition for Earth!”
“Trevor’s Posse!”
“Shut up, Dante.”
The suggestions whittled away to silence.
“Well, there is something that has been tossed around in a newspaper,” Dante suggested coyly. He apparently knew damn well which newspaper tossed it.
“Oh?” Trevor looked to him.