Calderon smiled. "No military occupation? No puppet government or forced new constitution?"
Jessica smiled as she shook her head. "No. We do not have the military forces to occupy the entire planet of Santiago. Nor would we want them. Any puppet government or forced constitutional change would only enhance the standing of those politicians we discussed. Besides, if I had anything to say about a new constitution, it would do away with all your government giveaways, and would only enrage the people."
Calderon sighed and rose to begin pacing. "Yes. Since the war failed, and we will be unable to deport our excess population, I must find a way to do the same thing without provoking riots. The economists all say that if the current situation continues, we'll be in a planetary depression within five years."
Jessica's smile widened. "You'll forgive me if I don't weep for you, since you were instrumental in establishing most of those giveaways."
Calderon stopped pacing long enough to show Jessica a rueful smile. "Yes, I was. I was a fool. We taxed the producers to buy votes until they moved off-planet, and then we extended our taxing authority until they left the whole system. Your raid took care of the few that remained. That is why we made war, Madam President. Desperation!"
Jessica shrugged. "It's not my problem, Senor Presidente. However, have you considered colonization to draw off your excess? Living on the dole is not really very satisfying. Perhaps if you offered them a challenge…"
He stopped pacing and smiled. "We thought about colonization. We decided it was too expensive. Maybe we should take another look. Thank you, Madam President. I have no immediate reaction to your demands. If you can provide me a copy, perhaps we could go into more detail tomorrow." She agreed, and he suited up and clumped to the airlock, memory crystal in hand.
The two Presidents stood on the balcony overlooking Homesafe. The loud noise and controlled chaos of construction was everywhere. Government House was one of the few buildings in the city that had suffered only minor damage, though blaster burns and pits from projectile impacts were obvious.
"Madam President," said Alfredo Calderon. "I believe we have done well, so far. Your insistence that the rebuilding be at Santiago expense made it possible for me to ram through a law requiring those physically able to work to do so at government projects in order to receive their dole. And your willingness to accept labor in lieu of cash payment gave me something to put them to work at.
Jessica smiled. "I take it your welfare rolls are shrinking?"
"Indeed. Many of our people have suddenly discovered that working for an employer pays more than drawing the dole from the government, now that they will have to work either way. Our unemployment rate is at half its previous level."
"Yes," Jessica replied, "but it was the help of your 'communication consultants' that made it possible for me to accept that labor. There is a lot of hate among Ilocanos. Many here wanted to drain your treasury dry, and force every Santiagan into virtual slavery."
Alfredo shrugged. "I have had a lot of experience using propagandists — uh, 'communication consultants'. Luckily, they can just as useful in the service of good as in the service of evil. I made great use of them in pushing through that so-called 'Workfare' law. However, never forget, Jessica, that they are totally amoral; a two-edged sword. They can be as useful to your opponents as they are to you."
They turned from the balcony and returned inside the President's office. "Well," she said, "here are the two young men I wanted you to meet, Senor Presidente. This is Colonel Brot Tonis of the Ilocano Militia, now General of the Ilocan Defense Forces."
Calderon smiled. "A pleasure to meet you, General," he said in his accented but fluent standard.
Tonis, with a grim expression, merely nodded slightly.
Calderon's smile only widened. "Yes, General, I am the bastard who sent those other bastards. I hope someday you can find a way to forgive me. Have you met any, uh, 'Santies' recently?"
Tonis nodded again, and his stony expression softened slightly. "I've worked with a few of your engineers on building requirements. They seemed okay."
"No horns or fangs?"
A faint smile pulled at Tonis's mouth. "No, sir. But then, they didn't have blasters, either."
Jessica took Calderon's arm and turned him to meet the other young man. "And this, senor Presidente, is Cale Rankin, the scrap dealer who won the war for us."
Calderon looked at the slight, dark young man. So this was Ilocan's secret weapon. He seemed a normal enough young man, nothing special. Until you noticed his eyes. Those eyes were old. They had seen things a man in his thirties should not have seen — that no man should see. Alfredo had seen eyes like that before, as he presented a medal to a man who had ended a hostage situation by slaughtering eight gang members after spending a week infiltrating them. This young man was much more than a mere scrap dealer. "Ah," he said heartily, "the hero who snatched victory from the very jaws of defeat. It is an honor, indeed, sire Rankin."
Cale reddened. "Really, Senor Presidente," he replied, "I merely offered the loan of a few credits and some scrapped ships."
Calderon shook his head. "And I understand that remarkable vessel in orbit with the huge laser is one of your stock?"
"Not anymore!" came a booming voice, as Ster Mong strode into the room. "Pardon me for interrupting, madam President, but I could not miss the opportunity to meet the Presidente. Especially since I missed the opportunity when we visited Santiago!" His broad grin and outstretched hand removed any offense at his words.
" Senor Presidente, "Jessica said, "This rather forceful, tactless person is our Minister of Defense, Ster Mong. He commanded Ilocan's Revenge during the raid.
Calderon's smile was wide and genuine. "Ah! We wondered what had made those remarkable holes in our orbital factories! I'm pleased to meet you, sire Minister."
Mong's smile faded. "And I you, senor Presidente. It is an honor. Please know that I completely support our president's current policies toward your planet. But we bought that ridiculous toy of Cale's, just in case!" he laughed aloud.
Calderon nodded soberly. "I can assure you that you will not need it against Santiago for at least two years. Beyond that… he shrugged.
Zant and Dee arrived after they had left the office and retired to Jessica's home for a friendly, unofficial chat. The house had sustained damage, and the sounds of banging and sawing were distracting, but she refused to stay anywhere else. A motley collection of furniture had been assembled in her once-luxurious lounge. Once they were ensconced in comfortable overstuffed chairs with drinks in hand, the conversation resumed.
"What about that home of yours, Cale, the one you've been buying by mail?" Jessica asked. "Any luck tracking down the broker?"
Cale sighed. "Actually, he found me. He was anxious to show me that he was honest." A sour grin rose. "He actually borrowed a flitter so he could take me out and show me that the fact that my two-story villa was just a burned-out shell wasn't his fault, and that the neighborhood had been nice, before the war."
"Be sure you file the claim, Cale," Jessica said. "I'll see to it that it gets priority treatment."
"I, too," Calderon added. "I will place pressure on the commission to insure your claim receives priority." Jessica turned to him with a quizzical look, and he continued, "Come, Jessica, what is the use of having power if one cannot occasionally use it improperly?"
Amid general laughter, Jessica spread her hands in pretended exasperation. "And he says he's reformed!" she said. She turned to Zant. "What about you, Zant? Are you going to take out a loan to buy that Strengl? Or maybe stake out a few hectares and put in a trap line?