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Chong couldn’t help it. He laughed.

“I’m sorry Mr. President, but your presentation strikes me as melodramtic. Ther is someone named John Ford who wants to kill me to encourage the withdrawal of UMC troops from Earth. I understand. So what do we do?

The American President arrived at that moment and joined the conversation.

“You need to go home, Chong. The business of this conference can finish behind closed doors without you. Your man Lawrence seems very capable. The only point of contention can be worked out here this evening.” The American President tried to look like a commander. You could tell he was used to being doubted but still used to getting his way. The Fundys in the United States had been the most vicous and the US repsonse had been the most criticized in the early stages of the war. However, the US had also held out the strongest of any Fundy occupied territory and held out the longest before the UMC entered the war. You could see every line of that experience in his face.

Chong had communicated quite often with the American President, Rodrigo Torres, through the course of the war.

“Thank you for your concern Rudy. I mean it. And I may take your advice. But let’s get down to business first and worry about that later.”

The leaders were drawn into two camps. One camp led by the China and the European countries argued for a long-term occupation with a strong rebuilding plan directed by the occupying forces with a 10-year plan for elections and resunption of local control.

The American leaders and the UMC preferred a very short term military occupation with a longer term advisory council moving quickly into hybrid local control, while still waiting for a ten-year period before withdrawing entirely.

At one point China insisted that no matter what agreement they reached, their military would tsay in occupied territories for security. This angered even the Europeans and threatened to break down discussion.

“Let’s wait for moment,” said Chong. “If China wishes long-term military occupation so be it. I propose we cede our territory to them immediately to restructure as they will. The UMC forces will withdraw now.” The President got up to leave during the stunned silence.

He made it out the door where Lawrence was waiting for him and seemed surprised.

“So you’ve come to an agreement?”

“Not exactly.”

“President Chong?” It was the British Minister. “Before you leave, the Chinese Premiere would like a word with you.

“Very good. I’ll be right back Lawrence.”

“You’ve made your point Mr. President,” said the Chinese Premiere. We will negotiate the military term.”

The rest of the meeting was awkward and uncomfortable, but ultimately productive. Most of all Chong had bluffed his way into discovering just how much leverage the UMC had. His was the only territory that had not experienced any fighting. His was the only Army with minimal losses. He didn’t have the tactical advantages to rule the territories he occupied but he could certainly get his way.

After the meting President Torres walked him to his room.

“I mean it Rich. You need to get back for your own safety. There’s no reason he couldn’t compromise the elevator. The sooner the better.”
“Thanks Rudy, but I have to see some stuff through and I’m not worried. I’m really not.  Maybe I should be but I’m not.  I think what he really wants is to make me leave and weaken our standing.  I’m not playing into that.”
“He’s willing to kill you if you don’t.”
“How do you know so much about him.”
“Because he used to be a top advisor to all of us before the War.  He was the UN economic liasion.”
“THAT Ford? Well I guess I wouldn’t know him but I certainly remember him.  He wanted a free trade pact with us but nobody would let down their guard.  What happened to him?”
“During the War his family was killed and he led a home guard division voluntarily in Omaha.”
“Was he there when….?”
“Yep. You bet. The UMC terror bombing, he calls it.”
“It was a mistake.”
“He doesn’t care and he wants you dead.”
“This is my room.”
“Think abou it Rich.  Good night.”
Lawrence opened the door and Chong walked into his room to find John Ford lounging on the couch.
“Mr. Chong.  I’m sorry, President Chong. Thank you for coming.  I won’t be long.  I just have some brief business to take care of with you.”

After checking into his room, Chong was called to a small meeting of dignitaries prior to dinner. Most of the delegates to the peace meetings had stayed including the representatives of the defeated countries.  The business of the meeting interrupted by the bomb, had been mostly introductory and ceremonial. Tomorrow the treaty would be signed after the remaining few disputes over wording had been hashed out.

Most of the terms of the treaty had been worked out beforehand in diplomatic conferences. Most all the remaining changes were small concessions to the defeated countries, who had not been invited to the diplomatic conferences. Minister Narang of Britain called a few principles to meet before dinner to discuss the one true point of negotiation, the term of the occupation.

“Ah, President Chong, thank you so much for coming on such short notice.  It’s been quite a day hasn’t it.  Please come in.”

Chong was impressed that Narang opened his own door. It was something Chong  would have done and worried that his effort at being modest would be misinterpreted as unsophisticated.

The leaders of France and Russia, China, Mexico, and Canada were in attendance.

“President Adams is on his way. He’s the last one we’re waiting for.  Can I get you a drink?” offered Narang.

Chong asked for a water, and to his great shock, Narang went off to fetch the drink himself.

“We have no servants here tonight Chong. This meeting is supposed to look as if it’s about the treaty but it is not,” said the French President. “While you have proved a great help in the bombing investigation, we already know who set the bomb and why. We’re meeting to determine an immediate course of action tonight.”

Chong tried to look nonplussed. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because the criminal left word with the heads of Europe and America. His name is John Ford.  He’s not a Fundy but he is a Terranist and he beleives the UMC should be removed form Earth at once.  He wants his victim to know everything about why he is dying.  He’s after you Mr. Chong.  He wants you dead.”

During an interview on CNN this evening, Michael J. Fox compared using older existing stem cell lines to using Windows 95. My wife and I were both working on our laptops (Windows XP and OS X) but it caught both our ears.  I laughed and Eileen said, “Did he just say that?”

The guards had Chong almost all the way back to the elevator before he collected himself.

“Stop.  We’re not going to run.  I want to find out what happened here.”

“Sir, it’s not safe,” started one of the guards.

“I’m not interested in that right now.  Get me to the security center.”

The guards took the President to the area they had been told to use for security questions where he was referred to the actual security offices.

Outside the office, a functionary attempted to brush him away.

“I’m sorry sir, but we’re busy pursuing leads on this.  If you’ll just remove yourself to a safe location.  We’ll update your ministry as soon as possible.”

“I’m not going anywhere.  I want to talk to the head of security now,” said Chong.

“Sir.  I’m terribly sorry this has happened but it is just not possible for you to speak with the head.  He is dealing with this situation. He has no time.”

“He’ll make time for me.” Chong pushed his way past the outraged man.  He had decided if he was to be viewed as an offworld backwards ruffian, he might as well act the part where it benefited him.

With the functionary on his tail he found the head of security at his office going over a report.

“What is the meaning of this!” cried the security chief, standing up as Chong burst into the room still followed by the functionary and the two UMC guards. Lawrence had chosen to wait outside.

“I am President Richard Chong of the United Moon Colonies. You mkay remember us as one of the reasons you’re not in a compulsory religious internment camp right now.”

“Mr. President, I uh… understand your indignation, howver I am trying..”

“Shut up and listen to me! Your mole planted the bomb using a detrailing device.  I recognise the signature of the blast from mining work at New Canaveral. A detrailing device like that leaves a DNA goldmine in it in skin flakes because of the intricate setting mechanism, if you can find it. They bury themselves after detonation.  I can show you where if you’ll allow me to accompany you to the blast site.”

“Our mole?”

“Yes mole. It’s the only way a detrailing device could get in this place. They’re not unobtrusive unless you bring them in in small pieces over time. Now do you want my help?”

The security chief had less of a look of surprise than the UMC guards, but still showed some.

“Right this way.”

Chong left the guards posted outside the great hall and spent a few minutes investigating the blast site. The French team working on the site showed no small amount of confusion over what he was doing. He crawled around on his knees, seeming to sniff the air over certain patterns of crakcs in the wall and floor.  After about five minutes of this odd behaviour, he called Lawrence over.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing Lawrence?”

Lawrence looked uncomfortable, shifting his gaze between the staring French workers and his boos, the President of the UMC.

“What is that, sir?”

“Come on Lawrence. Don’t pretend we didn’t spend two summers deep under New Cav recovering these damn things for beer money. It looks like a Terran-made Caterpillar brand and I think it dug and detonated.  Right there.” The President finished pointing to a black indentation in the floor where several cracks seemed to meet in a starburst.

Lawrence lost a bit of his self-consciousness as he looked.

“You know you’re right.  Those are hard to come by.  Seems unlikely, but it sure fits the pattern.”

“Hard to come by on Luna you mean. Not so hard to come by in France when the factory’s in Stuttgart.”

The security chief finally intervened. “I’m sorry but I’m not following what you are saying. Do you mind explaining?”

Chong felt a little glow of pride at this.

“Of course chief, I’m sorry. It looks like your mole used Caterpillar brand self-detonating detrailer device.  A detrailer is a mining machine.  Without getting to much into it, it blasts rock to cover up marks made by other mining equipment. If you want a real smooth overlay, you need a self-detonating detrailer.  One that blows itself up after it’s done.  In a mining situation this leaves a perfect aftermark.  Something you can deal with.  In the halls of Versailles it’s not so pretty but it’s essentially the same thing. The detrailer blew off the wall creating a leveled path here, then buried itself over here and blew itself up.”

“You said something about Stuttgart I believe?” The Chief was starting to think like a security man again.

“The beauty of self-detonating detrailer for a criminal, is that it leaves no trace. If you don’t have someone familiar with these kind of devices, you’ll never find it and never know what did it.  But I recognise the pattern.  It’s the mark of a Caterpillar Detrailer.  They’re made her on Terra at Stuttgart. If I were you,” and here Chong began to assume a more presidential air. “And I wouldn’t presume to give orders to such a highly capable man.  But if I were in your situation, I might try digging down under that black mark and running DNA tests on anything you find.  Some organic material might have survived the blast. I would also call Catterpillar in Stuttgart and find out who has obtained Caterpillar Detrailers in the last few months and if any have gone missing.”

The Security Chief ordered his functionary to do just that, then turned to Chong. “Thank you very much.  I am sorry about the confusion earlier. How may I reach you if I have further questions?  We are lucky to have an expert such as yourself willing to assist.”

“I believe I’m staying here. Unless those arrangements have changed?”

“Well in light of the current situation I hardly think someone such as yourself would want…”

“Oh I want,” Chong smiled. “I want to be as close to this as possible. That detrailer was a prelude, nothing more. I intend to prevent the sequel from occurring.”

This is my effort at NanoWriMo 2006.

President Chong entered the great hall and saw the delegates of the ancient countries of Earth milling about and talking as if they were at a school mixer or office party.  Nobody turned to notice the leader of the United Moon Colonies.

A waiter approached with a drink and Chong took it gratefully as a distraction. The diplomat excused himself by saying he would announce Chong’s arrival.  Eventually the leader of the British Isles approached and introduced himself. This was especially insulting, as the two had met twice before. However it was before the war, and Chong got the impression it was meant to be self-deperecating rather than insulting.

“You’ve helped us so much, President Chong, I hope we can show sufficient appreciation. Our worlds have been apart far too long.  Cheers,” said the Minister

The minister held up his glass towards Chong and looked as if he expected him to do something. Chong was not well-versed in these Terran pleasantries and balked for a second.  He felt suddenly like the country simpleton he knew many in this room held him and his countrymen to be.

But rather than make him feel stupid, the Minister saved them both.

“It’s an old British custom, I’m afaraid.  Sort of old, quaint and stupid but I hope you don’t mind my sharing it with you. Nothing to it really.  You just clink the glasses together and say cheers.”

Chong was impressed by the Minister’s ability to save the situation.  He touched his glass to the Minister’s and said cheers. At that moment his advisors entered the room.  The guards waited outside. Chong could tell his chief advisor looked fairly impressed at how he was getting on.

“Learning an old British custom Lawrence.  You should try it. You wish someone well, or say something hopeful, if I’ve got it right Minister.  Then say cheers and touch glasses. Cheers.”

Chong held his glass towards Lawrence who had just taken one from a passing tray.

“Uh… cheers,” replied Lawrence and almost smashed the glasses.  The Minister chuckled but before Chong could reprimand his advisor, the Diplomat who had accompanied him from the elevator announced that it was time for everyone to take their seats.

“I believe you’re over here just by me, Mr. President,” said the Minister cheerily.
There was a large table set int he middle of the room for all the heads of state. Advisors were seated along the walls of the room directly behind their leaders. The UMC was along one side fairly near the middle between Britain and Germany.  France, as the host of the event took the head on one end of the table.  The American President, for an unknown reason, took the head on the other end.

In addition to the alliance countries, representatives from Venezuela, The African Confederacy, United Arabia, and Israel were in attendance. These were the four nations of the Fundys as they were called. Along with uprisings of their supporters in North America and Europe, these nations had started the war and almost won it.

Of course these representatives were not the leaders of the war. Those still living were under UN supervision in Miami awaiting trial by the World Court. These were the recognised representatives of the defeated countries, here to accept the terms of the ending of the war.  It was merely symbolic.  All these nations were occupied.  Each of them was split up into areas controlled by UMC light forces, North American Army, European Union Brigades and Chinese Regulars. The fighting had ended over a month ago. This was meant to bring closure to the bloodiest period of Earth’s history yet and attempt, again, to make sure it never happened again.

The French President rose to speak.

“On behalf of the European Union, and the people of France, I welcome you to Versailles.  A rich and ancient hall that has seen its share of history and is steeped int he business of peace-making. May the efforts made in its….” The unthinkable happened.

An explosion ripped through the south end of the hall, knocking down a quarter of the wall behind the French President.  He was thrown to the ground and the leaders all scurried away from that end of the room as security guards from all the nations rushed into the room.

President Chong stepped toward the elevator door and turned quickly before his aides and guards could enter.

“You’ll take the next car.”

The guards obeyeed his command but Lawrence his chief aide protested.

“Mr. President, you must….”

“I must go alone.  It is a powerful symbol.  What we’ve done so far to help has only bought us their ear I must underline it to make the lesson last.”

At that the door closed and he began the descent from Platform 86 down to Earth.

As he watched the wisps of atmosphere form around him and felt the natural gravity move in, Chong thought about what led them to this point. The United Moon Colonies, the UMC, had rebelled from Terran control about a decade before he was born.  They had laboured not only for existence but respect ever since.

When the colonial powers abandoned their “police action” on Luna, they also abandoned everything but the merest pretenses of assistance and even trade.  If the Moon Colonies wanted to go it alone they could. And they did.

Only when the recent threat from the recidivists reared its ugly head was the UMC taken back, not only as a friend, but as an ally. Without UMC technology, manufacturing, and plain old firepower, the alliance would have fallen from within three years ago.

As it was, the UMC had turned the tide of the war and now stood in a position of power over the old countries of the UN. Hence his need to emphasise that point by a solitary ride down to Versailles, France, where the final peace settlement was being dictated.

The doors opened and a UN delegation stood waiting.  They appeared rather startled.

“President Chong, where is the rest of your party?” inquired the European Diplomat sent to fetch him.  A small slight, that it was merely a diplomat.  Small, but a slight nonetheless.

“Coming along in the next car.  They had business to attend and I did not wish to keep you waiting,” said Chong.

“Very well,” said the Diplomat, more shocked than displeased but still trying to appear blaise. “I will escort you to the great room. The remainder of my party will await..uh… the remainder of yours.  Right this way.”

The grandeur and symbolism of Versailles was no lost on Chong as they walked through its ancient halls. He was certain it was chosen to impress, not only on the vanquished recidivists, but also himself, that the old world was unassailable. He had something in mind that would outweigh the symbolism of the structure and in fact quite possibly benefit from it. The arrival alone was only the beginning of his plan. He meant for the UMC to never again want.  For a woman to never again have to starve herself to feed her children.  For the UMC to take its rightful place int he community of nations, not only as a member, but as a leader.

The UMC did things differently, better, than the world below. It was time to make both worlds a better place.

Part 9 of Boiling Point, a novel, read on MP3.You can purchase a print copy of Boiling Point at LuLu.com.

The President of the United States today signed into law the Military Commissions Act  which changes the way “enemy combatants” are tried for crimes. It narrows the interpretation of the Geneva convention, but more importantly allows someone deemed an enemy combatant by a military committee, to be tried without habeus corpus and without letting the defendant know exactly what the charges are.

I’ll grant you that justice is tricky in war, but that is never an excuse for curbing liberty.  This is not the one law the eliminates our freedom as some on the left would like you to belive.  Nor is it a deep necessity to winning the war as the right would have it.  It’s not that simple. However, it is a step in the wrong direction. Let’s not worry so much about present actors on the stage.  This law allows someone in the future to define what he or she thinks is an enemy combatant, arrest and hold a trial without presenting the evidence to the accused, and convict without a jury. This is how freedom dies. We rationalize ‘necessary evils’ oin the face of fears and we slowly erode our own liberties.

The conspiracy theorists do us a disservice.  This isn’t a grand plan of the right wing to put forth a dictatorship. Saying so only overheats the debate. We are doing it to ourselves. we would like to blame the government, or the terrorists, or someone else, but we are responsible here.  It takes great courage to hold your values in the face of danger.  The United States is at the risk of faltering at this very moment.  And it makes me sad.

It’s not an exact match, and certainly not scientific, but you can see some historic cycles by looking at things that chracterise certain decades.

1820s – War/Recovery (If anything recovery from 1814 but tenuous)
1830s – Promise (Railroad construction booms)
1840s – Turmoil (Mexican-American War)
1850s – Depression (1850s depression, Bleeding Kansas)
1860s – War/Recovery (Civil War, Transcontinental railroad, death of Lincoln)
1870s – Promise (Telephone, light bulb, phonograph, reconstruction)
1880s – Turmoil (electricity, cars, new imperialism)
1890s – Depression (Panic of 1893, depression)
1900s – War/Recovery (End of Phillipine-American war)
1910s – Promise (Relativity, X-rays, radio, Hollywood, World War I)
1920s – Turmoil (Flappers, Roaring 20s)
1930s – Depression (Great Depression)
1940s – War/Recovery (WWII)
1950s – Promise (TV)
1960s – Turmoil (Vietname, hippies)
1970s – Depression (Stagflation)
1980s – War/Recovery (Cold war)
1990s – Promise (Peace, tech boom, Internet)
2000s – Turmoil (World Trade Center, Iraq, Afghanistan, terrorism)
2010s – Depression
2020s – War/Recovery

Part 8 of Boiling Point, a novel, read on MP3.

You can purchase a print copy of Boiling Point at LuLu.com.