Out of the Ashes

“You can't be serious?” A young reporter yelled the questioning statement. His tone betrayed his shock and outrage. “That's murder!”

Ben waited for the din to settle and the press people to return to their seats.

“And,” Ben said, “if the federal government moves against us, bombing and killing people, isn't that murder? Perhaps you people would prefer the term ‘war'? If so, I'd like to see where you draw the line between war and murder.”

“Some of the people your zero squads might kill, Governor, could possibly have had nothing to do with any war against the Tri-states. Have you considered that?”

“Neither will the very young and the very old of the Tri-states,” Ben countered. “But they'll die just the same. Have you thought of that?”

“Suppose they are given the opportunity to leave?”

“Suppose they like it here?”

“Mr. Raines, is the size of your army secret?”

“No. Everyone in the Tri-states is part of our armed forces. They all know their jobs and will do them without hesitation.”

“That doesn't tell me the strength.”

Ben smiled. “Several divisions.”

“General, what do you think your chances of survival are in the Tri-states?”

“I have no idea.” He did. “As I have stated, all we want is to be left alone.”

“The federal government has never had a very good track record for doing that,” a reporter observed.

“Yes,” Ben agreed. “How well I know.”

The press left, all but Judith, who stayed on and became a resident and news director for a TV station.

Tri-states settled back to run itself: smoothly, quietly, profitably, and very efficiently. A dozen companies—major industrial conglomerates—had slipped quietly into the Tri-states and set up shop.

Those who came to the Tri-states, to live and to work, had many things in common: the desire to live and let live; the need for as much personal freedom as is possible in any society; the wish to give a day's work (as a craftsman) for a day's ample pay; respect for the rights of others.

There was room to relax in the Tri-states, room to breathe and enjoy life. Here, no one pushed.

America—the other forty-seven states—slowly returned to some degree of normalcy. Tourists were out and traveling in those areas that were not hot or forbidden.

Hesitantly, shyly at first—for the Tri-states had taken more than its share of bad press—a few tourists came in. But the Tri-states limited their numbers, after making certain they understood the laws of the nation. Then more people discovered the area was a very unique and quiet place to visit—if one stayed out of trouble. The Tri-states offered to the family unit a quiet vacation, with good fishing, good food, and honest surroundings, with no fear of crime.

The criminal element stayed far away from the Tri-states. Word had quickly spread in the newly organized underworld that to fuck up in the Tri-states meant a noose or a bullet—very quickly.

There were many things different, unique, and quite experimental about the Tri-states. One reporter called it right-wing socialism, and he was correct, to a degree. But yet, as another reporter said, “It is a state for all the people who wish to live there, and who have the ability to live together.”

In the Tri-states, if a family fell behind in their bills, they could go to a state-operated counseling service for help. The people there were friendly, courteous, and openly and honestly sympathetic. If that family could not pay their bills because of some unforeseen emergency, and if that family was making a genuine effort to pay their bills, utilities could not be cut off, automobiles could not be taken from them, furniture could not be repossessed. A system of payment would be worked out. There were no collection agencies in the Tri-states.

As Ben told a group of visiting tourists, “It is the duty and the moral and legal obligation of the government—in this case, state government—to be of service and of help to its citizens. When a citizen calls for help, that person wants and needs help instantly, not in a month or three months. And in the Tri-states, that is when it is provided—instantly. Without citizens, the state cannot exist. The state is not here to harass, or to allow harassment, in any form. And it will not be tolerated.”

“No!” President Logan said. “For the last time, I will not send any person from this good office to talk with the illegal governor of an illegal state. No!”

“Hilton, the state is a real state,” Aston reminded him. “The people are real. Their economy is booming.”

“I will tell you what I intend to do. I intend to denounce the Tri-states as illegal and politically nonexistent in the eyes of the United States Government.”

“And?”

“What do you mean?”

“What next—troops?”

“Perhaps. I've discussed it with General Russell.”

“Hilton, for God's sake!”

Logan ignored the VP's pleas. “I think we should first concentrate on the rebellious Indian tribes. Get them back in line and off stolen property.”

“No, Hilton—good Lord. What harm have they done?”