The Icelandic Accord

By Karla Fetrow

No wars shall be fought that damage the environment. Moral conduct shall be decided by the majority. Energy use shall be confined to renewable natural resources.

The three principles of the One Book were meant to unite a world that had been plagued by constant wars, but instead unleashed the fury of The Purges, a society so restrictive, it failed. A calamity leaves over half the world crowded into domes while the other half is a barren wasteland where nobody should be able to exist.

Water is the standard measurement for international commerce and trade. Conflicts rise to the surface as the domes demand more of the precious commodity from the water-rich Arctic countries. Skirmish wars break out along the borders of the green belt and a deadly game of monopoly begins within the city-states.

In a post-dystopian future, some will prove to be reluctant heroes as they trek through the steamy underworld of cutthroats, liars and thieves. In the days of The Icelandic Accord to survive is all that matters.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Sep 4, 2015
• ISBN: 9781329525665

Book preview

The Icelandic Accord

The Icelandic Accord

by

Karla Fetrow

Published by Subversify Entertainment

(C) 2015 Karla Fetrow. All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form or by any means without the prior permission of the publisher. Reviewers and readers may quote brief passages with credit to the book and author. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

ISBN: 978-1-329-52566-5

The Icelandic Accord is a work of fiction.

Any similarities to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.

Published by Subversify Entertainment located in Alaska, USA

(www.Subversify.com)

Illustrations: Regina Fetrow, James Hinton

Acknowledgments

I’d like to thank Thomas Little Chief for helping me with the background and some of the technical details for the story. The personality traits for the two Oyagek brothers, Nathan and Tobias, were first conceived by Thomas, along with the character, Daniel Paulson. He was an active participant in constructing the first three chapters and gave me many ideas for story development.

With special consideration to Mitchell Warren. We are limited by our own perceptions, and enriched when others share their own. My story would not have been complete without his insight and guidance. He introduced to me, two very pleasurable characters to work with; Troyal Barker and Lawrence Wellington Stanford. Without them, I would not have had strong protagonists and the spice of a separate perspective.

Prologue

The One Book was Created to unite all Religions. It was Founded on Three basic Principles. No Wars were to be Fought that damaged the Environment. Moral Conduct shall be Decided by the Majority. Energy use shall be Confined to Renewable Natural Resources.

There is very little that is known about the history and geographical configuration of the World before the One Book. Many of the records were destroyed even before the Great Calamity. According to the One Book, entire Regions of Earth had once been virulent with greenery. Many different Creatures prowled over the Earth and lived in the Sea. Giant cities were built under the Open Sky. The One Book was Designed to Save and Protect this Flourishing Earth. Instead, it unleashed the Purges.

During the Intolerance Era, entire technologies in stem cell research, human genome mapping, cloning and other unnatural fabrications of science were banned. Strict rules were set in place for Moral Conduct. The transportation, sales and consumption of addictive plants and foods was forbidden. The fossil fuel industry was immediately shut down in all its stages of production.

Led by the Majority, the Purges were one of the Most Brutal Events in Recent History. The Mobs swept over entire Continents, hunting down Heretics and Transgressors. Entire Universities were burned down, and the Students and Faculty placed on Trial. Many were executed for Practicing Unnatural Sciences. But while they rampaged, they ignored the Abandoned Industries whose poisons were slowly leaking into the soil.

The One Book states these were the False Walkers. Their Destruction did not stop until they had broken through the Ice Gate. A terrible trembling shook the Earth, the Oceans heaved, and the Waters tumbled over the Sands only to be swept away by Fire.

When the True Walkers led the survivors in building the First Domed Cities, they promised a day would come when a Leader would bring them back out under the Open Sky. Over time, however, the Urban Dwellers no longer wanted to leave their Domes. The Barrens, with its Terrible Death Winds, still swirled around them, and the narrow strip of Green Belt Countries limited Immigration. The Promise was forgotten.

The One Book also promised that as Long as the Three Principles were followed, the Earth would never again be destroyed by Fire. This Promise has not been Forgotten.

Part One: The Majority Council

I

The alarm voice was a strange one, high pitched and bizarre in its mechanical Spanish accent. Good morning, Congressman Vandeweerd. The hour is sixty-thirty A.M. The temperature is twenty-nine degrees Celsius.. Sunshine is forecast for most of the day with a light sprinkling of acid rain in the evening. Air quality is tolerable. Oxygen masks are advised for those with respiratory tract diseases. A public reminder to please check the filters of your collectors.

Already he missed the cool breezes and gurgling aqueducts of Iceland. San Fernando de Azure wasn’t bad. It could have been worse. Last year, it was London. He hated London. Not the people, but the town. The huddled, shabby dreariness of it. After the Thames flooded, people began to rebuild wherever it looked habitable. The sewer systems had been badly damaged. The tunnels had collapsed. The saline content from the swollen oceans leaching into the river, saturated the banks. The houses crowded close together, haphazardly. The streets were crowded with vendors selling everything from cherry tomatoes grown in a hydroponics bathtub to kief.

Every city had its kief. The new drug of choice. Takes away your hunger. Takes away your thirst. Takes away your pain. He didn’t blame the people. They did what they could, what they had to. They conserved their precious, potable water to the maximum of their ability, and looked with longing at the domed structures of the elite.

It wasn’t just the city he didn’t like; noisy, dirty, crowded, the air pungent with unwashed bodies, unflushed toilets, waste materials that rolled slowly and reluctantly to the recycling plants. The big problem with London was that their ever existing society of financiers and pharmaceuticals were always and would always be best buddies with the loose collection of city states calling themselves the Real United States. They had used other titles, The Free Collective, Eastern America. He tried vainly to remember what they were calling themselves now.

San Fernando was large. It was noisy and dirty, but it had more water. It had more food. It had greenery. He could see it from the window, triumphantly sprouting here and there like broccoli. It said something about Venezuela that even after they lost Caracas and the islands to the flood, they still managed to get back to their feet and rebuild. Venezuela was a neutral zone.

Klaus went into the bathroom and placed his hands under the faucet, waiting. After a three second interval, a tiny trickle of water ran into his cupped palms. He rubbed them together quickly, spreading moisture up over his wrists and arms, and patting his face. He checked the blue meter next to the mirror. There was enough water for a little bio-soap and a rinse off. Quickly, he scrubbed around the finger nails and dampened the back of his neck, spreading the cleansing ingredients along his skin. Filling his palms once more, he thrust his face into the delicious liquid, splashing it up into his hair. He glanced at the meter and breathed with satisfaction. He had conserved enough water to take a five minute shower in the evening.

Instructing his voice messenger to call a cab, he finished his morning toiletries and slipped into his jacket, studying himself critically in the mirror. The suit jacket was a little frayed at the cuffs, but it was wool, goddamn it, not a cheap spin off imitation. It would serve for several more years. All it needed was a little darning. Bonnie would do it. Bonnie was a wonderful girl, always devoted to the cause.

His shirt cuffs needed darning too, but they wouldn’t be noticed, tucked away inside the sleeves of his suit. Besides, he had his grandfather’s cuff links; real metal, real silver. They should make an impression.

My name is Congressman Klaus Vandeweerd, of Iceland, he practiced in front of the mirror. A few of you already know me... He paused, thinking about the stern countenance of Majority Leader, President Ting and her powerful Indo-Chinese Nation. He winced. Then there was that bureaucratic puppet king, Stanford. He was a smerger, one of those political players who is always rubbing away those fine lines of definition until you’re not really sure what he’s saying. Klaus knew what he was saying, alright, underneath the phrasing that spread like flower petals.

All Stanford’s industry saw, which represented the majority led countries, was that if they seized the reserves now, they stood to make a lot of money. He was there to see that it didn’t happen. Some of you have arrived, bringing your petitions. Some of you have tried to find a way around the quota the Northern Alliance has placed on water withdrawals. Recent sanctions placed against Greenland, with-holding grains, coffee and date sugar until they drop their water prices has caused Greenland to voluntarily join the Northern Alliance. As of this day, when I speak for Iceland, I also speak for the well-being of Greenland, and all those who have united under our banner; a banner of responsible care for our resources.

Congressman Vandeweerd, your cab is waiting, the mechanical voice announced politely.

I’ll be right down. He wondered as he clattered down the steps if his own voice sounded as strange and artificial when sent through the auto-waves. The cab driver was looking at the water collector located under his exhaust. It got broke into again, he announced. It doesn’t matter what kind of lock I put on it, they find their way in. The cab driver didn’t sound angry, just resigned, even a little humorous. I don’t mind that much, he admitted when Klaus asked him about it. "Working for the embassy pays pretty well. I’ve even got my own little garden; hydroponics, all of it, but enough to keep us in vegetables all year. You can’t say that for some of these beggars. They are lucky to receive daily hydrate pills and a liter of fresh water. I’m not saying we should give them more, sir, just that I understand how desperate they must feel. They are refugees, all of ‘em, and we just can’t take care of the whole population."

Vandeweerd listened absently as the cab driver finished his task and took his place behind the wheel of the vehicle. He was old; seventy, at least; old enough to remember the catastrophe. The lines of bitterness on his face were the lines of someone who had lived history, not just someone currently at its effects with no understanding as to why. You’ll like the State dinner. We have agricultural camps just a few miles from here, but civilians are only allowed hydroponics. You’ll get the real thing.

Maybe that’s what he missed most. Once you began dropping below sixty degrees latitude, nothing ever tasted like the real thing. Nothing tasted like foods grown in soil, minerals and sunshine. It was almost better to swallow one of Phillurs Whole Earth tablets. A full meal, with all your essential vitamins, proteins and electrolytes in one capsule. His stomach growled thinking about it.

He stopped at the coffee shop in the lounge before attending the assembly in the huge domed agri-theater; San Fernando’s latest triumph in technical achievement. In the middle of the dome, on the base floor, was a park, modeled after the Latin American zocalo, with mango, citrus and banana trees growing, benches and small tables scattered around, and fresh air circulating through the ventilating system. The compartments circulating the bottom floor were mainly shops, restaurants and local public offices. The upper floors were accessible only through security clearance. These contained the law offices, the media headquarters, assembly rooms and in-house legislative apartments.

The coffee was real. He lingered to savor it, rolling the thick, bitter taste around on his tongue. The hard, nearly flat biscuits he ordered to go with it were grainy with sugar. He wondered idly if the Iceland budget could afford an increase in sugar and coffee imports. Both products had been abolished during the anti-drug campaign of the forties, and had only trickled back into the global economy in recent years.

Nobody cared that much about drugs anymore. After the three great purges, governments realized the best way to keep a hungry society happy was to keep them sedated. While the official endorsement was of pharmaceutical controlled drugs, and Exx Anglo monopolized the poppy trade for their legal enterprise, cultivated varieties of other natural drug containing plants were abundant wherever they were able to flourish. South America was humming again with coffee and sugar plantations. Cocoa beans, which barely missed the last of the purges, were being ground into delicious chocolate. It was wanton. It was wasteful of the precious resources needed to supply necessary food items. It was addicting. Klaus sighed. Venezuela had everything it needed; fresh water, fish, agriculture. Could you blame them for also encouraging those luxuries that grew naturally in their soil?

II

There is that moment when you are aware that the whole world is watching you, judging you, not particularly impressed with what you are saying, its growling needs rising up over your own protests. Klaus Vandeweerd closed his fists, his only outward sign of tension, his sweaty palms. His announcement had taken the assembly by surprise, as he had intended, with the accompanying venomous opposition he had expected. The reporters, holding up their media scans and shouting questions, only added to the general mayhem among the speakers. President Ting brought her gavel down sharply on the podium.

Order! May I please have order! Congressman Vandeweerd, your collaboration with Aqualung Recovery gravely jeopardizes the well being of a number of countries. They cannot afford a rate increase of two percent per cubic ton. I represent a population of two billion people. We have rationed our water as much as humanly possible. Your alliance is in direct violation of the global welfare act and defies the spirit of this legislation. Water should be for the people, not for profit. I ask that you take our position seriously into consideration.

President Ting, with all due respect, may I remind you that the Nationalized States of promised more than ten years ago at the Crisis Committee Review to shrink their population by fourteen percent before the 72 summit. Your Nation has not done this. Instead, the population has risen four percent in that time period. As you have violated an International Treaty, we have no choice but to penalize you; a two percent increase in cost for a four percent increase in population.

He heard her short, sharp intake of breath, and he browsed through his gatebook quickly before she could protest. He cleared his throat to remind her he still had the floor. Furthermore, we caught two floating processors from the Eastern America City States siphoning glacial waters within the ten mile square boundary of our water recovery system. We will tolerate no more trespasses of National boundaries. We will allow no more thefts within the jurisdiction of our territory. Any more violations will be considered an act of war.

President Ting gave that half bitter, half caustic smile that had made her so popular among her Constituents. Congressman Vandeweerd, since you are so knowledgeable of our Nation's history, I'm sure you also know that we conducted a rigorous campaign, investing countless millions into media advertising for birth control, contraceptive measures and legalized abortions. If the League of Humanitarian Rights had not stepped in when we began executing the worst of our criminal population, and sterilizing some of the troublesome elements of society, we would have reached our goal in the projected time. Our hands have been bound. Every extreme measure we've used has been sanctioned. We can't go against the will of the people, which is to choose the size of their families.

He was quite aware of her campaigns; constantly peddling the baby market to keep manufacturing demands high, and consequently energy demands, as well. In the interest of profit, the huge Mid Eastern Nation preferred to place other countries on hold in their own challenges to overcome the crisis, order death squads, and continue to have cute little babies that grew into consumer minded children and young adults. Not to mention that their immense population gave them a majority vote. He opened his mouth to speak when someone new took the floor.

"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Troyal Barker and I'm President of the Confederate States of America. As I'm sure you know, my southern states have formed an alliance with the Mexican Government in operation Western World Energy Conservation. We feel it's a positive thing, and we've consistently reported increases in renewable energy. We've actually gone down in our price since 70 and that's been consistent. I myself talked with the Mexican President, a Mister Hosea Guevera Hernandez. I can barely say his name but we've become blood brothers in the just time we've spent together.

Anyway I don't mean to ramble on but sometimes I do. The point I'm making is that now here in the year 85, we are entering a new age of what I like to call desperation. What started off as a crises of economy in just a few nations has gradually spread like the Scram virus to all the nations of the world. We are in desperate times, and it's just sort of human nature to become defensive.

And you know I've been thinking about the water issue for quite a time now. It seems to me that almost every nation represented here tonight has given of themselves, their resources and their efforts. I mean we got Germany and their contributions to the automotive industry, the compact magnetic cell car division they opened. We got Switzerland contributing a lot in chemical research and new pharmaceuticals. We got Italy, Australia...We got a lot of countries that are carrying their load.

Then again, we got countries on the very bottom and they need our help. Russia’s pretty much on the verge of collapse. Africa's been hit very badly. So what are we doing to help them? I know that Russia contributed a great deal to the Reclamation Project, but it was mainly in cleaning up its own contaminants. See, me, I'm a big believer in karma. What you put into things, you eventually reap the fruits of that labor.

What I don't understand about the Northern Alliance is why they seem to be holding the earth's water supply hostage. Water should be a free resource, just like wind is. The Confederate States of America is the leader in renewable energy and though we charge for our technology, we would never presume to charge for the wind.

Now charging for the technology of harvesting water is one thing, but what these countries have done, this axis of greed as I like to call them, is take the world's water supply hostage. Now I'm not an eloquent man and I certainly wouldn't presume to tell anyone I'm smarter than they are. But what seems to be happening here is that the Northern Alliance are elevating their greed above the interests of the world community.

We all deserve water and I believe God gave us this natural resource to replenish us. To hold that hostage, and to try and punish the rest of the world community by restricting the population and forcing abortions? Well, that just doesn't seem right to me. Is that just me? See, I hear all of this talk about how ignoring Alaska's demands is an act of war. To me, that sounds like an act of Fascism. That's not a pretty word, but that's how a lot of us in the community feel right about now.

And they want to talk about war, well, denying us of a natural god-given resource sounds like an act of war in itself. I think a lot of nations and political leaders have been patient thus far, but if the Northern Alliance and Alaska want to try and starve our children, then I don't see what's to stop us from just taking the water ourselves."

Despite his morning cautions to himself to keep his temper, he felt his blood pressure rising. The Confederate States! Over half their lands were barrens, the other half staggering under a water recuperation process that should have begun years ago. Where the hell did they find this guy? Nobody had told him the Confederacy was being run by the Youth Corps. Excuse me. Excuse me! To begin with, President Ting, we, the countries of the Northern Alliance are in no way responsible for the type of birth control you use or condone. You applied for and received, monies from the Global Advancement Funds for the purposes of educating your flourishing populace on the reasons why they needed to lower their birth rates. Educate, Madame President, is the key word. I would hope that with a little education, any global citizen would realize the need to limit the number of offspring they have.

He paused, trying to keep a level tone to his voice. "The water recovery process is only a small part of what we have done to conserve the world's water supply. It's vitally necessary to monitor the reserves and only those who are close to the source can judge how much can be expended. We have experts in all aspects of the recycling and water distribution process that can help each country learn how to use every last drop efficiently. We offer these services. We can't force you to accept them. But we can force all those who would violate the conditions of our treaty to stay away from our boundaries. Our conditions have been clear. Only countries that show low or no population growth receive the standard rates for potable water. Countries that show more than two percent growth will be penalized with higher rates. Not fascism, President Barker, necessity. The larger the population, the greater the need for water. Shrink the need and there will be enough water to go around.

As the appointed spokesman for the alliance, I'd like to add that these are not specific demands of Alaska. I am a representative of Iceland. These are our conditions. These are the Yukon conditions. These are the conditions of the countries who rightfully own this natural resource."

Back to the issue that had kept the legislative body tied up for months in a filibuster. President Ting looked at him smugly and folded her hands. Congressman Vandeweerd, the Eastern States of America, as you call it, is the recognized representation of the true United States and all the powers invested in its Constitution. Just because the federal seat has been moved to New York City doesn't mean the bureau is without council. According to the documentation of lands ceded, the Federal United States still owns fifty- five percent of the mass territory. The Democratic Council recognizes that the Federal Bureau has invested a great deal into the defense system and development process of its rightfully owned National reserve. The floating processors were within their rightful jurisdiction. These waters belong to the true United States.

Vandeweerd fired back. The federal bureau illegally contracted the federal lands when Alaska became a part of the now dissolved United States of America. It has been declared its own country. Therefore, any contracts or ties with the former contract of the United States of America are also dissolved.

The young man with the round, corn-fed face and tall Stetson hat, bobbed his head. Klaus wondered if the hat was real suede leather, or if it was just a very good imitation. The technology barons maintained a rather lucrative income. It could be real. He had seen hats like these auctioned before, at astronomical prices; left-overs from an era when there were cattle and deer. "I believe President Stanford of East America might have something to say about that, as to Alaska's illegal secession. I believe President Stanford might go into more detail about the Alaska secession, but then again, I'm not familiar with East America's property, you understand? I am mainly concerned about The Confederate States of America and what we see as a global need to step up to the plate as it were.

We have been volunteered by many smaller nations as spokes people, to set the example for how countries that have broken off from the original United States are supposed to act. And we're supposed to act in junction with the rest of the world powers. And I believe the southern states, and Texas in particular, have been very cooperative with the world scene. As a matter of fact, I think I reflect the attitude that many of our world leaders have right about now. We have legitimate doubts about the Northern Alliance, and the Alaskan people, and the Icelandic people, over-stepping their authority. They may have rights to their land, but once ice melts, it becomes water, and it ceases becoming property of an exclusive nation.

The water belongs to the global community, the people, the leaders of Earth. It's not just a matter of Texas owning this or Alaska owning that. It's not about you or me anymore, it's about WE. We the people, not of the United States, but of Planet Earth. See I don't think some people quite get where we're at right now. It's not a matter of coming together for the betterment of the human species. It's about coming together for the survival of the human species.

When you're threatening the rest of the world with starvation and with famine, which is what seems to some of us the Northern Alliance is doing, then it's not just a matter of politics. This is the sort of issue that starts wars. This is the sort of issue that kills entire countries of people. I mean we all step up to the plate when the time comes.

Not to get off the point though. Regardless of who Alaska belongs to, whether it's still property of the East America or of Iceland, my point is when the glaciers melt, it ceases becoming land, it ceases becoming property. I don't recall Iceland having property over fresh water. Least of all when the world needs it. So my question is when does a country stop being responsible to the world community?"

Klaus took just two minutes too long to flip through his gatebook and compose his answer. Several paces to his left, a chair scraped noisily and Tobias Oyagek slammed both large, work knotted hands down on the table. If the Incorporated rights are to be disputed, it’s best to hear the voice of Alaska!

Out of the corner of his eye, Klaus watched President Ting give her barely perceptible signal for the reporters to close their media scans. She seemingly rested her head against her hand, placing two fingers against her temple. Just as imperceptibly, the boxed lenses held up by each journalistic hand, dimmed. He couldn’t tell if Tobias noticed or not. It didn’t matter. It was standard procedure whenever Alaska was brought into the discussion.. They were used to it. He was frankly surprised he had been allowed to talk as long as he had without the public censure.

Tobias continued as though nothing had occurred. "Honorable delegates, I apologize for raising my voice, but it appears we are going in a direction of little interest to this Congressional Assembly. If the United States has jurisdictional interests in Alaskan watershed, it is not as agent of Fiduciary! The United States Blockade will understand, as will all delegations; the mean index of consumable water resources held and stored in the Alaskan watershed is not a petty cash account.

There are those that have spoken recently who, regrettably, do not come from areas that produce nor utilize water correctly. The Alaska Delegation over the next fifteen years has promised hundreds of millions of Decca liters to Her North American co-delegate States.

President Barker, beyond the Acceptance of Texas to receive said resources, how have you prepared to receive said assets? Has the Texas delegation even begun to prepare for our generosity?

The answer, of course, is no! For we of the Alaska Corporation realize that to import said quantities off our soil is a project beyond current abilities. Therefore, we of the Alaskan Delegation provide in other areas.

As a result of Alaskan corporate intervention on Texas' behalf Mr. Barker, water now flows past Cascadia and feeds your constituents a reliable flow of West Coast desalinated water privileges.

The resources of Corporate Alaska extend beyond mere asset management of common water. Although water is a source of significant financial resources, and drives the Corporate Alaska credibility at debt, it is the Technological and Logistics Administrative Department, Mr. Barker, of Corporate Alaska on the West Coast that keep you and yours from hydration bankruptcy.’

With the smoothness of her office, President Ting swept aside his statement. Representative Oyagek, three times your petition to annex the entire land mass into a united country has been received by the Democratic Council, and three times it has been voted against by the majority House. We cannot allow this much monopoly by you and your cohorts over the remaining water reserves. It sets a dangerous precedent for the bankrupt nations that are dependent on the Northwest Passage access. The charted agreement, under the Leningrad Convention, allows for the equal deployment of water cultivation and re-capturing systems by the nations of Canada, Russia and East America, not the Republic of Alaska. East America has the right to use this passage to reach its federal lands, which are still recognized by this assembly. Be reasonable, Representative Oyagek. With Greenland joining the Northern Alliance, you represent a ridiculously small population, controlling a vast number of resources. We can't afford to let Federal Alaska go. We will allow Eastern America every means at their disposal within the Treaty of Low Impact Environmental Land Skirmishes to defend their territory.

Land skirmishes. The polite way of saying, let’s kill each other, but don’t harm the environment. Lasers, homing pins, nerve janglers; crushing and maiming their victims but leaving the earth undisturbed. The land skirmishes worked well in the urban areas where lives were expendable; not quite so well in the staggered populations of the northern rim.

There was the soft, shuffling sound Klaus had grown familiar with, the cultivated, yet somehow mewling voice of his greatest adversary, President Stanford. Stanford looked about politely. "I don't mean to interrupt the Democratic Council, but I wanted to say something. The Democratic States of America wants to remain cordial with all parties involved with this dispute as much as possible. I want to reiterate that the cities and states we are in association with, whose views we reflect, have a strong opinion on this matter as well as a strong desire to negotiate into a peaceful arrangement.

I can't speak for the Confederate States, but I speak on behalf of the former U.S. federal government, now fully incorporated into the Democratic States Offices. We retain rights to contracts that were made, if not to state territory themselves.

The legal secession of Alaska was conditional, granting rights of access to all Federal military posts, science research centers and port-of-call, including the Northwest Marine Highway. These rights have not been relinquished.

So does the federal government of the Democratic States of America have territorial rights to Alaska? No. But it does have rights of access to Federal waters. Alaska must give a responsible answer to the world community, and to the Democratic States. We are not challenging their right to exist or to form an alliance for financial purposes. However, holding the resources hostage is a violation of our goodwill agreement and an explicit violation of the contract made.

I want to see a peaceful resolution to this. If the Northern Alliance would cooperate with the global community I see no problem with the alliance continuing business as usual. But like the President of the South said, water is a resource that belongs to the people of earth."

Oyagek suddenly closed his gatebook. "Has anyone been listening? We are not conducting business as usual. We are not negotiating a compromise. Take our conditions or suffer the consequences. That’s all I have to say."

Excuse me, said the President of the South loudly. I don’t mean to interrupt the council either, but I think it's only fair to address what the Ogoyan Fellow was saying. ..

I think we’ve discussed enough for one day, interrupted Klaus, eying the Alaskan representative anxiously. "President Stanford, keep your hired goons out of Alaskan waters. This is a warning."

President Ting’s gavel rapped sharply on the table. Congressman Vandeweerd, you are out of order.

Take your order and hang it, roared Oyagek.

Ting’s eyes flashed.

"The meeting will be adjourned until nine a.m., tomorrow. I hope by then, you will all gain a little self-control and we will be spared these exhibitions. Congressman Vandeweerd, a word with you?"

Vandeweerd hesitated. He couldn’t really risk letting Oyagek out of his sight. It wasn’t Tobias he was worried about. He was basically a businessman. Once his temper cooled down, he would see the practicality of diplomacy. It was the brother that caused anxiety pains to stab at his temples. Tobias called him the ace in their pocket, but Vandeweerd saw him as a wild card. He was the head engineer for Northern Consolidated and their stream of desalination plants stretching along the West Coast. He was an inside man, who dealt as much with cutthroats and thieves as he did with labor unions.

What is it, Lucinda? he asked, addressing her by her informal name.

"I want a private session with you. Join me tonight at the Gardens. I think we can resolve this amicably."

You want me to go behind Oyagek’s back?

"I will not have any more outbursts like this during convention. If you can’t control your bar bouncer, leave him behind. I mean it, Klaus."

Oyagek’s back was squeezing through the exit door. In the glass studio beyond, reporters were crowding around the Texan President, who preened and postured, his eyes fastened to a particular young red head who hovered with her scan close to his lips, her face introspective. As Oyagek opened the door, the reporters had magnetically attached themselves to him, their voices an excited babble, their scans held high. Klaus caught up and took the larger man by the arm. Say nothing, he whispered.

It wasn’t necessary. Oyagek pushed gruffly through the holo-light simulators, the i-cams, waving gatebooks, and clamoring media hounds hoping for an exclusive interview.

As it became apparent the Alliance members were not giving statements, the cameras slid back into focus on Troyal Barker. He was giving a speech, his words fading slowly into the background as they walked away. They could hear the first part of it, and Klaus felt Oyagek’s muscles tense under the grip on his jacket.

The Texan’s soft drawl wafted into the corridor. I don't want to give anyone the impression that the Confederate States of the South is ignorant as to water needs or any other survival methods. We are first and foremost Republicans of this great land and we are responsible for the land we live on. We are sons of the soil, a moniker we gladly take up, as we are the western world's top producer of agriculture, including livestock, cotton, cereal and fruit. We are also top producers of aeronautic and computer technologies and retain a strong central military with great manpower, something the Democratic States cannot say. We are united. We are still a functioning country.

His voice was sing-song and soaring. Cheers accompanied his words. Within an hour, his speech would be on every channel at News Synch. Don’t make a scene, cautioned Vandeweerd. I think Ting is open to negotiations.

Tobias was angry. His frustration broke out in sweat and rolled down his face as they entered the hydro-lift. "I will not have Alaska offered up like a sacrificial lamb for the federalists. This is my country. My people."

"And it won’t happen. The Alliance will back you. But we need more leverage."

The holo-boards lit up with Barker’s round, boyish face. But again, I'm rambling on, flickered the image. The point is that Texas is as prepared as any country to receive water in exchange for our resources. We do want to establish a relationship with the Northern Alliance and the Global Community. I guess you could fault us for being aggressive negotiators, but hell, I'm getting thirty, people!

Who is that joker? Asked Oyagek. Is he some kind of new magic trick Stanford pulled out of his hat?

"Don’t worry about him. He’s an obvie. He insulted the President of Russia and doesn’t even know it yet. They have wine here, from Venezuela. What a life, don’t you think? Grapes, coffee beans, sugar, cocoa. All part of the Peruvian Empire. I want to open trade with them, Tobias."

Water collectors?

"They’ve had several mishaps on the Antarctic shelf from unexpected calving. There are also rumors... Klaus lowered his voice, there have been pirates."

Stanford.

Maybe. Vandeweerd sat back, sipping gently at his wine. It was more full bodied than the thin, distilled chemical process they had turned to when the vineyards of California and Europe had essentially dried up. Not that he had any real memories of how good wine tasted, only the nostalgic reflections of his father. This was how it all was before the purges; full bodied, rich tasting, thick with nectar. I have been thinking, maybe this new President Troyal, can be an advantage to us.

Oyagek grunted. If he was impressed with the wine, he wasn’t going to let it show, but at least his face had resumed its normal color.

How’s that?

He could push the Russian President to join our side.

Oyagek’s com-link flashed, and he begged to be excused. While the big man hunkered over the metal disc attached to his wrist, his back turned, Klaus sat back, rolling the wine delicately in his mouth. Flavor was not a noticeable attribute of most beverages. They were crammed with vitamins, minerals, hydrates and calcium, but they nearly all had a bland, universal taste, diversified with nothing more than a bit of citrus concentrate or fruit sweetener. One glass of this wine would dilute into three liters of synthewine and people would call it delicious. We need a trade list, he said dreamily. Coffee, sugar...

I’ve gotta go, interrupted Oyagek. Trouble on the home front.

Your brother?

No, a little matter of a sick nephew.

It was his brother. That’s what he always said when something was brewing that wasn’t quite pleasant and that his brother had managed to discover. Send my condolences, muttered Klaus, and sat back to enjoy his solitude.

III

The Stealth 290 was probably the fastest and the quietest of the hydro-light copters, but the whooshing of the blades overhead still seemed obtrusive in the scant jungle clawing out with trailing fingers at the beginnings of the barrens. I can smell the stench from up here, muttered Nathan Oyagek. He loosened the breathe-rite around his neck and fastened it across the bridge of his nose. Sulphuric gasses swirled in a lazy haze across the stripped earth, mingling with radiated dust molecules, rippling sometimes in a toxic discharge with methane pockets. How do people live here?

Only the mutate active do, said Paulson. They’ve adapted, to a certain extent.

They had heard of the adaptations although the mutate active were banned from the grid. Twisted limbs, distorted features, scrambled internal organs; they shouldn’t have been able to survive at all, yet somehow they had adapted to the barrens. They were born of humans, but they weren’t really human. They were mutating into something different, something that tolerated the chemicals that had altered them, something that needed very little water and ate from the spoiled fruits of the jungle.

They had kept to the narrow jungle since first leaving Oaxaca City, their flight pattern following the strip of greenery north until it reached the expanded Mojave. There had once been cities and towns along the coast line; Acapulco, Mazatlan, Los Mochis, Guaymas, gone now, washed out to sea during the cataclysm. All that was left was a rapidly fading memory. As the copter left the last straggling tree behind, it swooped upwards, propelling backwards the poisonous dust that yet tried to claim a little more wasteland.

Nathan would have preferred a meeting place closer to Burbank, but the convention in San Fernando had forced him to join his brother on the South American Continent to avoid arousing suspicion as to his activities. He had recessed himself from council with the thinly veiled excuse that Maya Canals required his expertise at a new recycling facility in the legitimate ruling capital.

Not that the council really cared. Their minds wandered off when he began explaining things like water reclamation, new desalination technology, and the latest triumph to the Alaskan Corporation science team, the water recovery enhancement project. It wasn’t science they were interested in, only the quickest route to their own comfort. Bureaucrats and babbling idiots; all of them; absorbed with their quotas, their prices, their numbers and their own inflated views of their importance. They talked, and said nothing. They made motions, and did nothing. They were a waste of time.

He said as much to Paulson. Then why does your brother spend so much time attending the summit meetings? He asked.

"My brother thinks a merger with Aqualung Recovery would make us less vulnerable to federal attacks and water rate controls. This is what I personally believe. We don’t need them. Those are our plants filling the bellies of Burbank with water, our plants operating on the Great Lakes."

And the lease sales are coming up for review.

"The lease sales be hanged. If they fail to renew us, we’ll take down the whole damned system."

The copter circled in on its destination, a scorched field close to the nearly defunct town of Hermasilla. There would be no snoopers here, no spies for the Central Government, still trying to keep its headquarters in Mexico City by maintaining an alliance with the Federal United States. It was ironic and fitting that the federal district of Mexico and of the United States had clung together through the purges and the catastrophe, believing their union would somehow keep them anchored as their states began to dissolve, yet in the end, their seats as world powers were nothing more than a sham, a token gesture like that given to archaic royalty. You made them believe they had a hand in the decision making process, when in reality, they were only window dressing.

As Nathan began his descent from the barely settled craft, Paulson prepared to follow behind him. Stay here, directed the Chief Engineer. "If there’s any trouble, I’ll flash a three second guide beam. Call Tobias, than get the hell out. I’m not worried about the federales, only La Arana. She has her own agenda. If she’s formed a partnership with the Davei Chan, she could be dangerous."

Nathan walked out past the parameters of the landing party, his windjammer flapping around his ankles. He knew that despite his instructions to Paulson, two or three liaison strikers would be creeping behind him, their wits as sharp as the blades by their side. Paulson would stay behind, but barely. He would be sitting as far out from the copter as he dared without gaining reproof, and stay glued to his com-link. All that was lacking was the Chinese. Where the hell were they?

As though in answer, four black hooded figures rose up from behind the sand dunes, bristling with heat finders and laser loaders. Nathan held both arms in the air, his hands empty except the com link. Ni hao, he called. Jin tian feng hen da.

The wind is always strong here, said one of the figures dourly, stepping out from the group. And your pronunciation of our language is still atrocious.

Zhau Jiao Shou, not everyone received the benefits of your education.

Supplied by the ample consumption of Western appetites, for which I am grateful, the speaker continued in a voice laced with sarcasm.

"That it may will be, but it has brought us both a lucrative income. Did you bring the shipment?"

The Chinese leader spoke briefly to his three companions, who first shook their heads, then shrugged and nodded. Follow me.

Nathan hesitated, trailing a little behind, peering anxiously to see if the striker unit was following, and if so, if they would be noticed. There was no perceptible sign of a tail, and his thumb hovered anxiously over the signal button on his link. Relax, scoffed Shou, have I let you down yet?

"We’re in hostile territory. How do I know you don’t do business with La Arana?"

"La Arana? Is that what you’re worried about?" The professor let out a rare chuckle. "She still makes patty cakes of hashish. If she didn’t have a clientele among Cascadia purists, she would have been out of business a long time ago. She is a barbarian, Oyagek, an uneducated mouse that seeks to get in the wheels of the machinery. She has no stealth planes, no snoopers, no federal allies. The barrens are hers simply because nobody else wants them."

The Chinese landing party had been successfully hidden by a deep ravine between two wrinkled rolls of sand dunes. A tent had been placed near their copter, a camouflage tan and brown close replica to his own. It disconcerted Nathan to think the Chinese used Western technology in their flight design, but the fault had been the federal’s who had left their debris strewn over every Continent by the end of the two great purges. After that, there was nothing easier than salvaging the abandoned aircraft and copying it, so that now, not a single country had a military advantage over another. The purges had taken care of that and the catastrophe had ended the energy driven economic base. Now, all people wanted; all they prayed for and desired was food and water; and kief.

The purges had left the world with two major drugs; the legal pharmaceuticals produced by London and New York, and the not so legal, but highly popular production of kief. Kief was a hybrid psychoactive plant that had begun springing up on its own after the flood. By itself, it caused mild euphoria and aided in cellular reconstruction. Distilled and mixed with opium tar, then pressed into bricks, it was a powerful, addicting, pain-numbing agent. Despite its shady background, nearly everyone owned a kief pipe.

They entered the tent and Nathan cautiously removed his breathe-rite. The first thing to enter his nostrils was the thick, heavy scent of kief. He felt almost dizzy and sat down on a folding chair willingly. No Arana, said the professor, waving his arms. Only us.

Product sample?

Shou opened a large slat board crate. Inside were the earth brown bricks stacked neatly on top of each other. Taking a knife, he carved away a small corner, crumbled the substance and stuffed it into a pipe. Twenty-five kilos of the finest.

You go first, nodded Nathan.

Shou smiled tightly. "One of these days your paranoia will be your ruin. I don’t do pleasure before business, but if it comforts you, a small communion for our mutual friendship."

Nathan watched closely as the professor passed a flame lightly over the bowl and inhaled a thick, bluish smoke. His hands were long and cultivated; soft from office work. His fingers tapped gently over the pipe stem as he handed the vessel containing all they had risked to acquire to Nathan. "Careful. This is a particularly potent batch."

It was several minutes before he was aware of any more words. The walls rushed in around him and the wind roared, waving up like the ocean and crashing, then rushing out again. He was suddenly incredibly tranquil. The wind could not touch him. It’s roaring anger dimmed to a low buzz, the Chinese guard laid back, their arms cradling their guns, talking and laughing. By the purges, this was good! He dialed his com link. "Tobias. I need to talk with you. It’s urgent."

"I can’t right now. I’m having drinks with Vandeweerd."

"Drinks with Vandeweerd? That’s good. I can’t wait to hear all about it. Tell him you have an important engagement."

He could hear his brother’s vexation in his voice. Give me five minutes.

Nathan snapped closed his link. "Send your goons off. My men will be here soon."

There is the matter of credit.

"Send them off first. Then we’ll talk."

Shou singled to his guards who trooped off one by one, leaving only Nathan, Shou and the crates. It was just enough time to re-dial Tobias. "I need a transfer. Thirty -two units of pure reclaimed water into Shou Manufacturing and Associates."

"Nathan! That exceeds the quarterly quota of pure water resources to the Indo-China Empire by seven percent!"

"So, juggle a few books. Reclaimed water doesn’t have a regulatory clause. We can sell it for as high as we want to who we want, when we want."

But the Alliance, brother...

"Who cares about the goddamned Alliance? Just don’t tell them, that’s all. They haven’t taken a measuring tape to every lake in the country. They only know what goes on at the recovery plants. Tobias, this deal stands to make us a lot of credits. Think what you could do with those credits, Tobias. Thirty-two units. It’s a onetime deal. After that, they buy water from the collectors, like everyone else. I promise you."

He could hear the faint click-click as Tobias did some computations. "Nenana Savewel has had an especially good year. Frequent rains have brought up their reservoirs by thirty percent, and they’ve had to transfer run-offs to the Talkeetna holding facility. We can transfer the surplus without notice, but I’ll need 2,500 credits in their accounts folder by next week."

I’ll run them through as a donation to the general fund.

"Be quick about it. I mean it. And don’t ask this particular favor of me again."

"Tobias, you worry too much. Alliances aren’t made in law chambers. They are made behind the scenes. Your little friend, Vandeweerd, will never get Stanford off our backs, but I will."

Stanford has a new friend; the President of Texas.

"Texas? Texas? When the hell did it join the International Circus?"

"Texas was officially taken off the list of hazardous waste land and recognized as a potential developing country three years ago. They, umm, excel in the manufacturing of communication devices, including Angel Halo imaging and are fifty-seven percent share holders with Popular News Inc. Crops are still meager but recent improvements in hydro-cell units have regained irrigated, arable land around the Houston Delta region and reclaimed partial usage of the Rio Grande. It seems, however, their largest export is pigs."

Pigs?

"Yes. Wild pigs. They began running amok after the flood and seemed to have survived better than most of the human population. The biggest problem now is keeping the pigs out of their crops, so they shoot them and export the bacon."

And these wild pigs people have a president?

"You might keep it in better perspective by saying, PNI people. PNI has a huge following and President Barker is, well... popular. Watch your step. Mexico Central Government is backing Stanton and so is Texas. Stay in the neutral zone."

Nathan glanced at Shou, who was smiling peacefully, his eyes slightly glazed. I’m good.

Nathan snapped closed his link and slipped it back onto his wrist. "Done. Thirty-two units transferred to your account of Nenana’s finest distilled pure water. You won’t get a better deal."

Perhaps not, murmured the Chinese. The Texas man... He sells pigs?

"I don’t know. You should ask him. I’m sure he lives somewhere in this hell hole."

Maybe he’s friends with La Arana.

Nathan frowned, a little perplexed by the meaning of the words as Professor Shou disappeared through the tent flaps. A moment later, he heard the whirl of a copter take off. They had left him the tent. He sat back and waited, taking comfort in his meager shelter, his cargo scattered around him. When his team burst through the entrance, he brushed himself off, and slid the breathe-rite up over his face. You’re two minutes off, he reproved.

IV

The same cabbie was waiting to take him to the State dinner. I figured you’d come out about now, the old guy said cheerfully. "I know the habits of all you congressional people. You’ve got to spend a little time just sampling our shops. It’s not quite the same in midtown, but what’s under that dome is our future. Every year we gain back a little more farmland. Tonight, you will be eating papayas, mangoes and bananas. One day, the whole world will be able to eat them again."

Are you paid to give your Venezuela sales pitch?

"Paid for chauffeur, that is all. I pitch Venezuela all day to anyone who will listen. I do it for free."

Would you like to chauffeur me around this week?

"I’ll give you my