Foreign Enemies and Traitors (105 page)

                “So, if I see you in a church holding a Bible…”

                “You’ll know what it is.  A stage prop for the dumb-asses.  You taught me the power of symbolism.  Religion can be very powerful, there’s no use denying that fact.  So I’m not fighting it, no way.  Why waste that kind of energy?  There’s a right way to use religion.  Politically, it’s just a matter of turning it into liberation theology.”  Tambor laughed and said, “You know, if it would help those dumb-asses to evolve to the point where they would accept socialism, I’d tattoo a cross right here.”  Tambor pointed to his forehead and laughed some more, then leaned down to the table and chased the leftover crumbs of cocaine with his straw.  “Hey, do you have any more of this shit?  It’s been a
long
time since I caught a buzz like this.”

                ****

Some people switched channels
trying to figure out what was happening, but they found the same programming everywhere except for a few obscure local access channels.  Television satellites in geo-synchronous orbits 22,000 miles above the equator were still functioning normally.  Each one could provide coverage to one-third of the earth’s surface.  The television satellites high above America were all a part of the modern Emergency Broadcast System, a fact known to very few people.  All of their normal programming had been cut off and preempted by the EBS signal, which was now being beamed into space from the vast antenna farm on top of Raven Rock Mountain.

                In every office, repair shop and factory, work came to a halt as employees gathered around any televisions they could find.  The few who made rude comments or questioned the authenticity of the tapes were shushed into silence by the rest.  National attention was focused on one single program as it had never been before in history.  Even during 9-11 and the Stadium Massacre, viewership had been split between many broadcast channels, with each network giving its own spin.  Not so on this day.  On this day, more than a hundred million pairs of eyes watched exactly the same images at exactly the same time, not one of these people having the slightest idea what shocker they would see next.  The aerial Predator video, followed by the massacre pictures and Jenny’s story, had already riveted them.  Now the president was being shown in a totally unguarded moment, baring his soul to a close friend and explaining his ambitions for his possible future presidency.

                ****

On the television screens
in tens of millions of homes and offices, Jamal Tambor said, “Let’s face it: the vast majority of the American people are just not intelligent enough to function independently in a modern technological society.  They have to be led, for their own good.  The problem is, most of them are too ignorant to know what’s best for them.”

                “I won’t argue with you there,” said Robert’s off-screen voice.  “The people need captains to guide them, to chart their courses.  Otherwise, they’d simply drift with the tides and currents.  That’s why they fall prey to religion and other archaic superstitions.”

                Tambor nodded his head in agreement, and turned very serious.  “It’s simply unfair and unjust in the 21st century that the high-achieving minority, the ones who have had the advantages that allowed them to master modern life…it’s just not fair that they can do so much better at the expense of the majority.  That’s where we come in, with the guiding hand of the intelligentsia.  It’s not just a matter of education or training—we have the
knowledge
to guide society into the future.  It’s up to us to reorganize the means of wealth production, so that the benefits are spread more equitably.  Global prosperity is indivisible!  We need to redistribute the wealth from the lucky few to the disadvantaged masses—and not only in America.  Of course this has always been our goal, but until now it’s always eluded our grasp.”

                “You don’t need to tell me, Jamal.  I’ve dedicated almost fifty years to the people’s struggle.  Since before you were born.”

                “Yes, and it was you who said that if my natural charisma was ever fully harnessed, I could be a world-changer.  Well, now I have the Kosimos Foundation’s money behind me, and that dream can happen!  It can finally happen!”

                Waylen sighed.  “I’m truly happy for you…but at the same time, it makes me feel so old.  I remember when we were bumming gas money just to get a few buses to Washington for the Moratorium in 1969.  More than forty years ago…  Oh, it’s been a long march, a very long march just to get here…”

                “And I honor your contribution, Robert!  You were always the pioneer.  You led the way.  You weren’t afraid to take risks, to get your hands dirty, even if it meant that—”

                The screen went blue for a moment, where someone had edited something incriminating out of the original video recording.  Then Tambor continued abruptly, in mid-sentence.

                “—you will always be remembered as one of the Founding Fathers of global government, of the new socially conscious global government.”

                “Thank you, Jamal.  And I accept your compliment in the spirit it was given, but don’t buy the marble for our statues just yet.  Don’t make the mistake of being overconfident.  The reactionaries won’t roll over; they won’t go down without a hard, hard fight.  Even now that they’re in the minority, they won’t surrender.  You’ll have to be very careful.  Always keep your eyes on the horizon, but don’t be afraid to tack with the wind.  Take the two steps forward when you can, and don’t worry about the one step back, as long as it’s only a tactical retreat.”

                “Oh, I know how to do it—you were my best teacher.  I’ll spout the right patriotic slogans; I know them all by heart.  I’ll wave their imperialist flag.  I may even have to denounce you, if the extent of our friendship is uncovered.  But please know, from the depth of my heart, that I’ll always do everything,
everything
that I can to promote our common dream.  That will never change, no matter what you might hear me say for public consumption.”

                “The reactionaries will come after you, no matter how circumspect you are.  The ocean may appear calm around you on the surface, but beware of the hidden undercurrents.  The sharks will be all around you, waiting for just one drop of blood in the water.”

                “I’m aware of that,” said Tambor.  “I’ll be ultra, ultra careful.”

                “You know, Jamal, sooner or later you’ll have to…
do something
about the reactionaries.”

                “When the time comes, I will.  I’ve studied revolutionary history.  I know that if we’re going to cement our gains, if we’re going to make the move to socialism irreversible—we’ll have to eliminate our enemies.  Through reeducation if we can, but by…other means where that fails.  But it may not happen on my watch, even if I become president.”

                Robert said, “You mustn’t be squeamish when that time comes.  Revolutions fail due to showing softness and taking half-measures.  Never forget Salvador Allende in Chile: there is a General Pinochet waiting in every barracks!  When the time comes, strike with an iron fist!  There’s a reason Fidel’s revolution lasted for more than half a century, and that reason is the firing squad.  Che eliminated all of the potential counterrevolutionaries; it’s a simple as that.  He was utterly ruthless, and because of that, the Cuban revolution lasted for generations.  When the time comes, don’t forget that lesson!  Don’t be weak like Allende, or you’ll share his fate.  Find your own Che Guevaras, and turn them loose with a vengeance!  Harden your heart to exterminate the reactionary forces, and the revolution will last for a thousand years.”

                “Well, I’d prefer to use carrots rather than sticks.  Social incentive programs.  Structured voluntarism, community service, reeducation…all of those tools.  But I’m sure that there will still be thousands of incorrigibles that will have to be removed for the good of society.”

                “Not thousands, Jamal—millions.”

                Tambor took a long drag on his cigarette, looking directly across the table at the unseen Robert.  After he exhaled, he said, “I understand that you can’t make an omelet without breaking eggs.  Even a surgeon has to remove diseased cancer tissue for the good of the patient.  Sometimes they even have to amputate limbs, but it’s for the overall good.  If you don’t remove them, then they can infect the healthy parts of society, and chaos results.  And above all, the new socialism will be about order.  Equality, fairness, social justice…and order.”

                “But guided from above by the socially conscious intelligentsia.”

                “Of course,” said Tambor.  “Always guided by the intelligentsia, the vanguard of the proletariat.  The masses don’t understand what’s best for them.  They’re not yet socially mature.  They haven’t sufficiently evolved toward a higher state of human consciousness.  They must be led.  You taught me that twenty years ago, Robert.  I’ve never forgotten.  I’ll never forget.  But I’ll have to use terms the people are ready to accept.  I’ll have to use the languages of religion and patriotism.  I can’t run too far out in front of the mob.”

                “Yes, be deliberate, be measured, but don’t be seduced into accepting half-solutions, or the reactionaries will be able to roll back all of your gains at the next election.  When the time is right, you must strike with Che’s iron fist.  Never forget the lesson of Salvador Allende: weakness and mercy
always
lead to defeat.”

                ****

In Corinth, Mississippi,
Lieutenant General Marcus Aurelius Mirabeau had been near a television most of the morning, awaiting developments.  As usual, the uniform of the day for the general and his troops was ACU camouflage.  He was in a tan humvee being driven from the new helicopter flight line at the Corinth regional airport back to his relocated mobile headquarters, when he was informed by his command sergeant major that something was up.  The CSM had been monitoring AM radio stations with an ear bud when, at 11:04, the programming abruptly switched to somebody talking about the Mannville massacre, and he informed his general of this development.

                Army helicopters had been flying into Corinth from Georgia and Alabama around the clock for two days, in small, well-dispersed groups.  The helicopters were not arriving empty; they were combat armed and full of troops.  Fuel trucks, troop trucks and other logistical support vehicles had also been streaming into Corinth.  Numerous tent cities were being erected, under the guise of preparing for increased refugee flows from Tennessee.

                By ten minutes after the hour, General Mirabeau was watching the massacre video and still pictures on the television in his headquarters RV.  His mobile headquarters had been moved again, and now it was located among tall pine trees not far from the airport, concealed beneath camouflage netting.  Again he heard Jenny McClure’s deposition, which had been filmed in this very same RV.  He watched with rising anger when the massacre images cut to Jamal Tambor, filmed sometime before he was elected president.  Tambor called the American people dumb-asses and said that he would use the Holy Bible as a stage prop to fool them.  He even profaned the sacred cross, and laughed about it.  General Mirabeau could hardly contain his growing anger, but he forced himself to show only steadiness and outward calm.  He knew that his staff officers were watching him almost as carefully as they were watching the television.

                When Jamal Tambor and the unseen Robert began openly discussing the murder of thousands or even millions of conservative American “reactionaries,” Mirabeau had had enough.  He stood and clicked off the TV with the remote control.  An instant after the general rose, all of his officers and senior NCOs stood as one and came to attention.  In a grim monotone he said, “That’s enough, gentlemen.  It’s happening.  Lieutenant General Armstead, the commanding general of NORTHCOM, has initiated the Emergency Broadcast System.  The next step is ours.”  He looked at his watch.  “We will commence Operation Righteous Anger at 1200 hours—high noon.  Pass the word, and make it happen.  I will move to the flight line at fifteen minutes before noon, and as you know I will lead the helicopter assault.  I will be here until then.  We will secure the massacre site first, and if the foreign enemies resist in any way—then we shall spare them not!”

                ****

On millions of televisions,
another line of cocaine disappeared up Jamal Tambor’s nose.  He sniffed a few times and said, “You know, Robert, twenty years ago you told me that I had a special destiny.  That I was born under a star of destiny, that’s how you put it.  And just think about the perfect timing of it all!  From meeting you when I was just a university freshman, until even now, the timing has been uncanny.  It’s been like gears turning inside gears, all my life.  Even this recession has been a blessing in disguise.  Think about it—when will we ever have a better opportunity to advance the cause?  Their faith in so-called free-market capitalism is almost gone.”

                “Do you think this recession will turn into a depression?”

                “I have no idea,” said Tambor, “but I know that it would help our cause if it did.  You should never let a good crisis go to waste.  An economic depression would allow us to push society forward in great leaps, instead of taking small steps over many years.”

                “Tell me something,” Robert said.  “What do you think is really behind the crash?  Do you think that what’s happening is just part of the normal capitalist business cycle?  Or do you think there are other forces at work, forces deliberately trying to wreck the global market economy?”

                Tambor replied, “I’m afraid that’s way above my pay grade.  Economics was never my strong suit.  Well, except for Marxism.”  They both laughed.  “But seriously, I don’t know the answer to that.  I do know that the Kosimos Foundation has done all that it could to promote our common vision, and sometimes that’s meant intentionally destabilizing regimes and currencies.  Peter Kosimos told me that himself before he died.  And he did tell me that the world needed a ‘good depression’ in order to make the final push to global government.  Once all of the national currencies have failed, the masses can be made to believe that a global central bank and a single global currency is the only solution.  Of course, once that happens, all of the national governments will become irrelevant.  Peter Kosimos taught me that too.  Once we have the power to create the world’s money, it won’t matter who is elected in this or that country.”