The Seventh Star

By Charles Dunn

It’s another night in Santa Fe for horse breeder Hub Johnson when he walks into a hotel ballroom to attend a party hosted by Anton Gorbacheck, the leader of the Homeland. The year is 2055 and the world’s supply of oil was squandered thirty years earlier. The United States no longer exists and the state of New Mexico is run by the Green Party, an authoritarian dictatorship intent on expelling all immigrants who are a threat to the purity and integrity of the state.

At the party, Hub is stunned to see Olivia Wright seated at the head table next to the leader of the Homeland. Three years earlier Hub met Olivia at a horse sale and had fallen deeply in love. On the day they were to leave for Hub’s ranch to begin their life together, Olivia disappeared without a trace. Her sudden reappearance in Hub’s life reopens old wounds and sets Hub on a journey that will reveal his dark past as a hired killer and his unending search for the three men who killed his parents when he was ten years old.

When Olivia and her new husband Landry Wright are arrested by the Homeland for engaging in unauthorized political activity, Hub reunites with Olivia, forging a temporary deal with Anton that saves Olivia but leaves Landry in prison. Searching for a way to help her husband, Olivia tries to save Landry from almost certain death at the hands of the Green Party without destroying her rekindled love for Hub. As the love between Hub and Olivia deepens, the choices they are forced to make changes their lives forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Charles Dunn
• Release date: Apr 27, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310859823

Charles Dunn

I am a 60 year old practicing attorney in Lubbock, Texas. I live on a horse ranch where I breed racing quarter horses. This is my first novel.

Book preview

PART ONE

SEPTEMBER 2055

Chapter One

Hub Johnson sat in the bar of the Hotel St. Francis sipping Bourbon whiskey from a glass made of hand cut Irish crystal. Because almost all drinkable whiskey was produced in Tennessee or Kentucky and the cost to transport it by mule to New Mexico was expensive and slow, the hotel only received one shipment a year, usually in February. Once the supply was gone, there was no more until February of the next year. It was a rare year that the Bourbon lasted until September because the demand always outstripped supply. In hard times, people drank more, not less. Hub was able to order whiskey because the Greens demanded that one half of each shipment received each year be reserved for their private parties. Tonight, Hub was attending one such party.

Do you want another one? The bartender asked, rubbing the bar in front of him with a clean white towel.

Hub didn't answer right away. Instead, he stared at the couple seated at the end of the bar.

Why do people ruin good whiskey by putting ice in it? It was Hub’s only response to the bartenders’ question.

Ice is hard to come by and they want a luxury, I guess. The bartender said, glancing over at the couple to make sure they had not overheard the conversation.

Ice is a difficult choice. It adds excitement, but at a price. The price is that you have to finish the drink before the ice is gone. It takes away the pleasure of drinking good whiskey. Drinking whiskey is a pleasure that should never be rushed. Especially when you may never get it again.

Hub’s voice was loud enough to be overheard by the couple next to him, but he didn’t care. He savored what remained of his drink and held the cocktail glass up to the light.

Pour me another, Ramon. No ice. He grinned at the embarrassed bartender and handed the glass to him for the refill.

Hub was wearing a Brioni tuxedo with shiny black ostrich boots. His feet were resting against the brass pipe that ran the length of the bar and his cowboy hat was taking up the seat next to him. The hotel was the St. Francis which had been on the Santa Fe Plaza for more than 400 years. The St. Francis hotel bar was a small room secluded from the main lobby and it was dominated by a long black Honduran mahogany bar occupied by Hub. In the center of the room a whitewashed Kiva fireplace added a soft glow to the dim gas light that lit the room. The fireplace was surrounded by heavy hand carved Spanish style tables and matching chairs which were empty. Hub and the couple were the only ones in the bar.

How’s the horse business Hub? The man at the end of the bar had walked over to where Hub was sitting and was standing behind him. Hub knew him as Anton Gorbacheck’s private physician. Hub wished he could remember his name. Maybe if he had a few more drinks he could remember, but at the present all he knew was that the doctor was bald, boring, and at late middle age, appeared to be working on a large pot belly. His wife, who was seated next to him at the bar, was in her early 30’s. She was tall, blue eyed, blonde and exceptionally good looking. Hub noticed that she had the body to go with her looks. He sized her up quickly and then turned in his seat to politely address the doctor. Manners were in important when one was at a Green party.

Business is good. I am breaking yearlings right now so they should all be ready for the spring sales.

Don’t you sell exclusively to the Greens? The doctor said, rattling the ice in his Margarita.

This guy really is a bore, Hub thought. A person who is not in the horse business who tries to talk horses with you is not very interesting. The entire evening is spent explaining exactly what you do and then answering endless, pointless questions. Conversation with a horseman, however, was another thing entirely. Hub could spend his entire evening talking about his theory of breeding for conformation, speed and soundness with another horseman. Some would agree and spend the evening nodding their heads while Hub did all the talking. Other horsemen would disagree and would challenge him on the merits and weaknesses of his breeding theories and training methods. He had spent many a night in bars like this one engaged in both sides of the conversation. Horsemen liked talking horses if they could learn something from the person they were talking to. After all, breeding and training horses is an art, not a science, and even the best horsemen were constantly trying to improve their method of operation and their breeding stock. But this guy was a doctor, not a horseman. Most likely he would just ask silly questions. Hub didn’t have time for silly questions and just wanted to finish his drink, attend the Green function and go home. All as quickly as possible within the bounds of making a decent appearance.

Deciding that the conversation was going nowhere, he began to think about a graceful way to exit the bar to attend the party without offending them. After an uncomfortable silence, Hub glanced appreciatively at the wife before finally answering the doctor’s question. Hub noticed that the wife had been staring right at him from the end of the bar the entire time that her husband had been standing behind him. She is definitely a player, he thought. And in his opinion, no questions asked, 100 percent, trouble. Most people, if you catch them staring, will break eye contact and look away. Not this one. She just kept staring with clear blue eyes, never looking anywhere but right at him. Did he know her from somewhere? If he did, he couldn’t remember. She was definitely different, he thought.

I hold a few babies back for my friends. Hub finally responded. If you’re interested, I can let you know when they’ll be ready and you can come by the ranch and take a look.

I’d like that. I’m Dr. James Meredith. We’ve met before, if you remember. It was last March when the Greens had their St. Patrick’s Day dance and you were there with your employee, the little guy.

That would have been Chato Morales. Said Hub.

If Chato were here, he would have something smart to say about the fact that he would rather be short, handsome and with all his hair than average size, bald and headed toward the inevitable spread of a middle age pot belly. On the other hand, if Chato were here, he would be flirting with the doctor’s wife while Hub was talking to the husband. This would generally end in trouble. Most days, Hub was thankful for the little things. This was one of those days.

Hi. I’m Liza. Are you here for the election night party for Anton? The wife said quietly.

She had moved over from the end of the bar to join them and was holding out a perfectly manicured hand for Hub to shake. He quickly stood up and took her hand in both of his hands, as if he were meeting royalty. After he did it, he realized how awkward it looked.

I’m here. That’s about it. I really don’t like these political things, but I do like good Bourbon. As you know, you can’t get it after July unless you attend a Green function.

At six-four, Hub towered over the couple. Dr. Meredith was only about five-nine, the same height as his young wife. Hub dropped Liza’s hand and sat down so that he would be at eye level when he spoke to the couple.

My husband and I are Tequila people. It’s much easier to get Tequila around here. She said, never taking her eyes off of Hub’s tanned face.

She was wearing a blue tight fitting short dress that showed off long, fit, and very tanned legs. She had black seven inch pumps and no jewelry on her left hand, not even a wedding ring. Her hair was pulled back into a pony tail set high on the back of her head and she wore almost no makeup. He wondered why she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. It was rare for a woman not to wear a wedding ring, especially one of her station in life. Chato really would have fun with this one, Hub thought. Of course, Chato would already be drunk by now and his wit and charm would be working the wife over. The wife would know exactly what was happening and the unsuspecting doctor wouldn’t have a clue. He would just assume that the little man was a friendly talkative sort of guy. And he would be wrong. Very wrong. When an ordinary dwarf flirts with your wife, you usually don’t have much to be concerned about. When Chato Morales flirts with your wife, you better pay attention.

The dinner is about to be served, do you want to join us? Asked Dr. Meredith.

Hub pondered the invitation for a spit second and then decided to accept.

Do I get to sit next to your wife? Hub said smiling, just to let the doctor know that he was no threat to him.

I would like that. Said Liza, still not breaking eye contact. She wasn’t smiling and Dr. Meredith noticed.

As the three of them walked down the hall to the hotel ball room, they could hear music from an orchestra playing Ride of the Valkyries by Richard Wagner. The room was arranged with a large dance floor flanked by the head table and behind it were numerous round tables for six. The tables were set with bone china and English silver and each place had two bottles of wine and a large single green candle. The room was full of expensively dressed couples in various stages of conversation gathered around the dinner tables. Liza led them to a table in the back of the room, across the dance floor from the head table. Hub glanced at the front of the room and noticed that it was filled with several high ranking members of the Green Party all wearing the bright green pine tree pin of the Green Party attached to their lapel. He saw that Anton Gorbacheck was not at the head table. Hub surmised that Anton had not yet appeared to work the room but would probably be arriving any minute since the music that was playing was his campaign song. He couldn’t imagine that absent sickness, Anton would miss his own party. Even Hub felt obligated to attend and he was not a party member or an elected official and wanted no part of the Greens except to sell them horses.

Seated at the head table was burly, white haired, C. Wilson Anderson, the Minster of the Homeland. Seated beside him was the Minister of Defense, Dager Fortney. Because this was an official Green Party occasion, Hub noticed that both men had brought their respective spouses instead of their girlfriends. They won’t stay long if they didn’t bring their girlfriends, he thought, laughing to himself. Dager was engaged in animated conversation with a stunning brunette seated to his left. At first he didn’t recognize her because she seemed thinner, almost gaunt. His pulse quickened and he felt his stomach turn to ice as he saw that it was Olivia. No doubt it was her. Of all people, of all nights, she was here. In the same room with him. Hub quickly put on his hat and rose to leave. His heart was racing and he began to breathe very quickly. He never thought he would see her again. His mind was racing trying to figure out how she had come to Santa Fe without him knowing. He glanced at her again to make sure it was her. She was smiling at Dager, listening politely as he told his story and watching him as he punctuated the action by waving his hands back and forth to make a point. Olivia had not seen Hub. It was her, no doubt about it. No one had a smile like hers. She was in Santa Fe. She was in his town at a Green Party function. Unbelievable. Hub glanced to Olivia’s side and was stunned to see, standing behind her, Landry Wright. This was a politically impossible situation. Seated at the head table of a major Green Party function was the leader of the only organized opposition to the Greens. Not only was he the leader of the Citizens Party, Hub had recently read the wedding announcement in the papers that Landry Wright was also Olivia’s new husband.

Time for me to make my leave, Hub thought. As he watched her he saw the face of his former lover suddenly go slack and the polite smile turn into a tight red lipped line. She had seen him.

Chapter Two

The oil ran out in May, 2024. It was not a gradual decline as was predicted by most governments. It happened almost overnight. It didn’t really run out. World politics and greed caused the end of the oil. It was swift and it was devastating and it affected every person in the world.

It began in 1956 when M. King Hubbert published an estimate of when the oil in the United States would begin to decline. He predicted that the peak in production would arrive sometime between 1966 and 1971. Uncannily accurate in his prediction, U. S. oil production peaked in 1970. Production in the United States declined every year thereafter. World production of oil reached its peak in 2008. Even with the invention of drilling methods that allowed for fracking and the recovery of shale gas and oil, demand continued to outstrip supply.

Hub Johnson was born the year the oil ran out. He was born in Santa Fe to Dr. William P. Johnson, Jr., a physicist at the Los Alamos National Laboratory and Heather Johnson, a prosecutor in the New Mexico Attorney General’s office. He was an only child. When he was six months old and automobiles ceased to exist as a means of transportation, Americans returned to horses for travel. His earliest childhood memory of automobiles was of his parents putting him in the back seat of a Toyota at the New Mexico Museum of The Automobile and telling him that the car he was sitting in transported people to work at great speeds before the oil ran out. Dr. Johnson told his son that it was not uncommon for workers to live 30 miles from their place of employment with commutes averaging more than sixty miles a day. Hub remembers staring at the rubber wheels and shiny engine and wondering how fast someone could travel in such a machine. He sat behind the steering wheel turning it this way and that as he tried to reach the pedals far below his feet. He was imagining himself driving the car on the broken, empty asphalt roadways and fallen bridges that now populated his home state. He never knew that there were new and pristine versions of the hundreds of burned out cars he was used to seeing sitting abandoned and rusting along the streets and empty parking lots of his city. He had never seen a new automobile until that day at the museum. His dad explained that as late as 2022 the world produced 75 million automobiles and light trucks a year which could reach legal speeds of more than 70 miles an hour. Hub could not imagine anything traveling so fast.

What happened? He asked his father. Why don’t people drive cars anymore?

We used up the oil. We took it for granted, fought over it and in the end, we lost it.

Dr. Johnson opened the hood and displayed the gleaming engine to his son. Look, he said. This is what powered the wheels. It used gasoline made from oil that ignited inside the engine and drove the wheels. This car could reach speeds of up to 120 miles per hour.

Did people drive that fast? The child asked.

They did if they were running from something.

Hub was in the seventh grade when his class studied the history of what happened. Reading his history book, he learned that it all began when China and India, the world’s two economic superpowers, entered into the secret treaty of Mumbai. The agreement between the two countries involved using their large sovereign wealth funds, built up over forty years of trade surplus with the United States and Europe, to monopolize the world supply of oil.

The architect of the treaty was a Chinese petroleum engineer named Chang Son Wu. Beginning in 2019, Dr. Wu began mapping the actual proven reserves of the oil producing countries in the world. He developed a mathematical formula that was different from any in existence at the time because it concentrated on easily extractable oil and gas rather than including the amount of oil and gas that was available but not easily or cheaply mined. For years the world had been mislead by geologists employed by oil companies who overstated the real reserves of oil and the benefits of new fracking methods. The genius in Wu’s formula was that his model took into account the economic cost of development and extraction and weighed this against the amount of oil or gas which could realistically be recovered to reach a real cost estimate for each barrel of oil and each cubic foot of natural gas. His thinking was that the conventional estimates of proven fossil fuel reserves that were economically recoverable with known water reserves available was overestimated by a factor of ten. Either the world was not going to have water to drink or it was going to have an abundance of oil. It could not have both. Wu was betting on water. This meant that the world would soon have a serious shortage of oil at any price. The country that monopolized the oil which was currently available would have economic power over those countries which had no oil. Price control and product control of oil was worth more than all the weapons in the world.

After he presented his findings to the Chinese Ministry of the Interior, he was summoned to explain his model to the nine member Politburo Committee. Three weeks later, using the oil reserve computer model developed by Dr. Wu, high level contact was made with the Indian government to form a secret cartel to monopolize what remained of the world’s proven supply of oil. China and India, the two most populous countries with the highest demand for oil, would control all the oil and the economic wealth of the world for the remainder of the twenty- first century. They would control the economy of the world without an army or even one weapon. Or so they thought.

It was surprisingly easy for the cartel to complete their plan. After the secret treaty was signed with India to acquire and share the easily extracted oil, China finally had a way to sell its huge reserves in the U.S. dollar without causing a panic and enormous capital losses. For years, China had been accumulating dollar based foreign reserves that amounted to almost 5% of the worlds gross domestic product. This giant pyramid scheme was a constant worry to the Chinese because if they attempted to sell their bonds, they risked a run on the dollar that would cause a collapse of the financial markets and their heavy investment in the dollar. In addition, holding foreign assets was dead money because it did nothing to help China’s growing middle class economy. By investing in a commodity that was essential to its existence, the Chinese solved two problems. They were securing oil for the future which would allow the continued expansion of the Chinese middle class and at the same time they were exiting U.S. bonds without causing financial havoc. At least not before it was too late to matter to the Chinese. The new bond holders would not be so lucky.

The first step taken by the cartel was to buy a bank in Liechtenstein that was used to transact the private purchase of oil reserves from oil producing governments and corporations. By offering more than ten times the market price, the China-India cartel was able to quickly and secretly control almost 40% of the proven oil reserves in the world. The reserves in the United States and in the North Atlantic were the easiest to acquire because the governments of the United States and the Netherlands did not own the oil, only a right to receive royalties from its production. The private oil companies were happy to sell the oil mined in the United States and Europe to the cartel as long as it was for ten times the world price. The executives of the private oil companies got richer and their shareholders got rich. The governments of the United States and the Netherlands were powerless to stop the purchase of the reserves by the cartel because to do so would mean a socialization of the oil companies. This was unacceptable in the politics of the early twenty-first century in the United States and Europe.

The other countries in the world, particularly those of the old OPEC nations, were much more problematic. The governments owned the oil in the OPEC countries and considered the production of oil a national security interest. To overcome this hurdle required considerable political skill and a great deal of money. The first step in acquiring the reserves was to offer each one of the rulers of each OPEC country an account in the private bank of their choice with a number that allowed them to access a fund in the amount of 30 billion dollars. The Indian negotiators were amazed at the speed at which the politicians would sell the oil reserves of their country in exchange for a bribe of 30 billion dollars. It was easy because the amount of money offered was enough to take care of themselves, their family and anyone else they chose, for the rest of their lives and for many generations after them. Even though the rulers were selling their