Dawn of the Unthinkable (39 page)

Palma thought and then said, "Hard to say.
We're not as mobile as we once were, and we're more in cities than
rural. But I'd say eight or nine thousand to start, if the town
could handle that. How big a town will they pick?"

Cunningham said, "Probably one that's small
and isolated, so that every goofball who just wants something for
nothing doesn't come running. And this being a free country,
they'll have to get the town's permission, so they might not get
their first pick. But if they choose a place that's not doing too
well and where there doesn't seem to be much hope, then I'm sure
some city leader will jump at the chance. And don't worry about
housing. The plan provides for all that, remember? If you build it,
they will come, as the movie said." Palma and Ryan looked at their
phones in surprise; he didn't look like the popular movie type. He
said defensively, "Hey, it had James Earl Jones, in it, didn't it?
Who can resist the voice of Darth Vader?" They all laughed.

Cunningham continued, "Okay, we all have
some work to do. Nick, I want you to go back and review the
original piece, and also try to remember everything that went into
your writing it. Reporters love that kind of background stuff. Lou,
you start organizing your folks, and get a preliminary head count
of how many might be interested in moving somewhere for the trial.
Tell them if it’s a success, they can either stay or go back to
where they came from and wait for it to be put through across the
country, which might take a while. If they can stay on, the housing
that will be built for them will probably become theirs even if it
fails. As a matter of fact, let me make a note of that. That's
something we're going to want to insist upon. We don't want your
folks coming out and putting their hearts and souls into something
and then be sent packing."

Ryan asked, "What are you going to do,
boss?"

Cunningham's laugh came down the phone line,
and he said, "Prepare for war, my friends. Prepare for war."

Karen Strock smiled
to herself after getting off the phone with Ryan. She loved her
ability to manipulate men, and Ryan was the type of virgin soil she
loved to till. But unlike the others to whom she liked to cause
pain, she had affection for him because he was obviously just a
really nice guy and someone who could have possibly turned her life
around (and she had a pretty good life) if she had met him earlier.
He was in over his head with her. She could eat him alive if she
chose to, but the men she did that to always ended up hating her,
and she didn't want that to happen with him. She wasn't sure how
solid his marriage was, and while she wasn't a home wrecker by
choice, she was not above picking at the remains of a failed union.
So she wanted to keep open the possibility of being his go-to girl
in case the sudden rush to fame caused him to dump his wife—a not
uncommon phenomena.

Her next case of manipulation would be this
afternoon's match with the senator. She didn't quite dominate him
though; he was too crafty and shrewd for that. He just let her
steer his juggernaut of public works, which helped assuage his
guilt over his previous troubles. She understood this need, as he
was really a decent man sincerely committed to doing good, and she
helped him by being as effective at her job as possible. And as the
Senate was still basically an old-boys-club type, she worked quite
effectively, charming some, flirting with others, and actually
getting physical with a small but very important few. She did not
consider this prostituting herself, as sex was a commodity in
Washington, and she was blessed with an abundant store of
resources. She had grown up dirt poor while many of the men she
served were born into their wealth, so she did not consider it
immoral to use what she had. And it had taken her a long way; she
was in fact one of the most powerful people in town. She wasn't
sure before how she was going to use her power, but now, in this
idea, she was beginning to think that her ship had come in.

She gathered all her papers on the subject
and went in to meet the senator. He was working on a bill that
would benefit senior citizens, and did not look up when she came
in, but kept on writing. That gave her more time to mentally
prepare her presentation to him, which had to be stripped of her
usual "for-men-only" sexuality. He didn't play that game and
preferred his information unadorned.

He finished what he was doing, pushed his
half-shell reading glasses back, and said, "Okay now, Karen, what
type of craziness are you going to have me jump into now?”

She smiled; he was an easy guy to like and
fun to work for. "Well, Senator, we don't want the voters of the
great state of Massachusetts to think moss is growing under your
feet, so we have to keep moving onward and upward," she said
cheerily as she handed him the Brookings report.

He snorted, "No, but we don't want them
thinking it’s growing between my ears, either," he said bemusedly,
causing her to laugh.

She was glad he was in a good mood; it took
the tension out of seriously considering one of the nuttiest ideas
that had ever come across their desks. They had to decide whether
to gamble his enormous credibility on this plan. Kennedy apparently
did not expect Brookings to find it credible and now was faced with
the difficult decision of whether to actually support it or not. He
scanned the report quickly, mumbling out load occasionally on
points that really caught his interest.

His eyes widened at the conclusion, and he
said clearly "Free Zone," and he looked up at Karen and said, "Just
like Stephen King's book, huh? If I remember, good won out over
evil in that book, didn't it?" Karen nodded at the senator's
reference to King's book,
The Stand
, which she had
recommended to him. She wondered if someone at the Institution had
read it, too, or the name came up by coincidence. She waited for
him to finish reading.

He finished and got up out of his chair. As
a senior member of the Senate, he had one of the nicer offices in
the Russell Building, and he looked out into the city where he had
spent so much of his adult life.
Should I gamble my career on
this? Christ, what would the people back in Massachusetts say? How
about the president of Crane Paper, all of those jobs, and the
money they have contributed to me over the years?
They had come
to expect unusual legislation from him, but this was beyond the
pale. It was kind of like saying that he had had communications
with extra-terrestrials and that he was advocating building a nice
little community for them. But then, he had spent his career trying
to help those that couldn't help themselves, and that's what this
plan was about. God knows
he
and others
had spent years trying to reform welfare and other anti-poverty
programs, but it never seemed to work. It bothered him that he
lived a life of opulence, but some of the people that voted for him
went to bed hungry at night. What would
they
want him to do?
What would Jack and Bobby have done? He was sure what they would
want.

"I assume you want me to go with this?” he
asked Strock as he turned from the window.

She nodded. "Yes. I know it's unorthodox,
but it's so crazy it might actually work. And I think that you're
just the man to lead it. Of course, you'd need buy-in from
whichever governor's and senator's state they decide to locate it
in, but that shouldn't be a problem. The tourist dollars from the
media alone will be a boon to a poor state. I'm actually kind of
thrilled to be in on the ground floor; this could be one of the
major changes in mankind's history, kind of like your brother
backing the space program. Of course, if it flops, I'm going to
have to say it was all your idea," she said teasingly. It was a
running joke between them as to which would take the heat for bad
decisions, but they both knew she had fallen on the sword for him
many times. It was one of her facets of power over him.

"Okay," he said decisively. "Let's do it.
Who should we get to draft the bill, and when should we announce
it?" He had the look of determination that she knew meant that he
was committed, and that usually meant success. She had already
thought of this, which was her job as chief-of-staff.

"I was thinking Roy would be good for this
one, he relates well to oppressed people and has a flair for
dramatic, historical type of drafting. As for a rollout, July
Fourth is right around the corner, why not announce it then? We
probably shouldn't wait too long, because the rumor mill is
probably already cranking up. By the way, we shouldn't blindside
the President on this, nor the majority leaders for both parties.
They'll be pissed if they're left out of the loop." She could
hardly wait to hear what the Republicans had to say. They were not
known for hearty approval of Kennedy's left-wing ideas.

"Sounds good. I was going to Hyannis Port
for some sailing, but I can get back to town for the day. See if
you can get some space on the Mall. We'll do it outside. Hope the
weather cooperates."

"Way ahead of you, Senator," she said as she
hustled out the door. Getting the bill drafted would be the hard
part, as she had never tried to convert a normal town into an
economic free zone. How in the hell would you word something like
that? She ran some brief ideas through her mind but hoped that Roy
Smith, who was a top-notch wordsmith, would have some better words.
She also had to schedule meetings with the President (who seemed
immune to her so far), and the majority leaders, get the Boys back
down to brief them, and grab some mall space. Add to that press
releases, careful leaking to the right sources, and a million other
details, and it was shaping up to be a busy weekend. She'd have to
cancel some of her "sessions," which would not please the men, but
this was more important.
Tough shit for them
, she thought,
grinning wickedly.
God, it is fun watching men squirm!

She called her main client first. He had
begun to test the "let’s have an exclusive relationship" waters
with her lately, and this disgusted her. If she wanted a man, she
would have snagged one long ago. She could have had her pick. As
far as she was concerned, most were belchy windbags who deserved
nothing better than the bottom of her boot that she let the lucky
ones lick. She did not want to lose this guy though, as he was too
important to allow him to wander off into the arms of some young
chippie. She'd have to hold out some hope that they might end up
together eventually to keep him in the stable. She did not like
people to leave on their own accord; she preferred to send them
away with one last major humiliation.

Once again she found her thoughts wandering
to Nick Ryan and his shy yet obvious arousal around her. She had
checked out his equipment while he was with her, and her expert
eyes had detected an emergency North Pole expedition hastily
launched. He had probably never played around, which only increased
his appeal to her. Guys like him she could tolerate, even desire,
because they were relatively simple and not political, but still
intelligent. She started to wish she had had met him before he got
married, but that was silly. She was not the marrying type, and he
was. A little relationship with him would have been nice,
though.

She shook her head to clear these Barbie
dream dates out of her head and reacted when Senator Kincaid’s
hopeful voice came on the line. She snarled down the line he better
make other plans for the weekend, and when she detected some anger
in his voice, quickly changed gears and told him that she was
giving his proposal some thought. This mollified him somewhat, and
she got off the line after promises of future, more intimate
liaisons. She called the rest of her little "friends" and begged
off, musing at their need for her to make them feel like dirt.
Men
, she thought,
can't live with them, and you're not
allowed to shoot them
.

She had better things to do. She had an
Amendment to pass.

James Concannon is a
career federal government employee who started working on this idea
in the 1980's. Picking it up and putting it down over the passing
decades, he finally decided to press forward and get the novel
published. While the idea behind the book has been posted on the
World Future Society since 2003 (
http://www.wfs.org/concannon.htm
), it took a novel
to give it plausibility. This novel is one of a series, the second
is already done, and the third started. If this one does well,
we'll put the next ones out, and you can go on a journey with him
on how to make the world a better place. James lives in suburban
Philadelphia with his wife Anne and dog Sophie, and delights in the
exploits of his three children.