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.Since then, hehad moved into the ungoverned lands, and begun manufacturing much of his ownequipment.The heavy industry he had brought to Bellevue was almost on thescale of the twentieth century or of modern New Mexico.Richardson came half out of his chair and chopped at the air in front of him."See here.I have to take enough such insults from my niece and her grandchil-dren.I don't have to take them from a stranger." He stood, tossed his displayflat on the chair, and walked to the steps that led down to his shaded river."Wait, Rober!" shouted Brierson.He waved Big Al back to the depths of thevan."I didn't call to pass on insults.You wondered where I'm calling from.Well, let me tell you -"By the time he finished, the old gunrunner had returned to his seat.Hestarted to laugh."I should have guessed you'd end up talking right out of thelion's mouth." His laughter halted abruptly."But you're trapped, aren't you?No last minute Brierson tricks to get out of this one? I'm sorry, Wil, Ireally am.If there were anything I could do, I would.I don't forget mydebts."Those were the words Wil had been hoping to hear."There's nothing you can dofor me, Rober.Our bluff in this van is good for just a few minutes.But.wecould all use a little charity just now."The other looked nonplussed."Look, I'll bet you have plenty of aircraft and armor going through finalcheckout at the Bellevue plant.And I know you have ammunition stocks.Be-tween MSP and Justice Inc and a few other police services, we have enough warbuffs to man them.At least we have enough to make these New Mexicans thinktwice."But Richardson was shaking his head."I'm a charitable man, Wil.If I had suchthings to loan, MSP could have some for the asking.But you see, we've allbeen a bit outsmarted here.The New Mexicans and people I now think arefronting for them have options on the next four months of my production.23You see what I mean? It's one thing to help people I like, and another tobreak a contract especially when reliability has always been one of my mostimpor-tant selling points."Wil nodded.So much for that brilliant idea."And it may turn out for the best, Wil," Richardson continued quietly."I knowyour loudmouthed friend won't believe this coming from me, but I think theMidwest might now be best off not to fight.We both know the invasion can'tstick, not in the long run.It's just a question of how many lives and howmuch property is going to be destroyed in the meantime.and how muchill-feeling is going to be stored up for the future.Those New Mexicansdeserve to get nuked and all the rest, but that could steel them for a holywar like they've been fighting along the Colorado for so long.On the otherhand, if you let them come in and take a whack at 'governing' why in twentyyears you'll have them converted into happy anarchists."Wil smiled in spite of himself.Richardson was certainly the prime example ofwhat he was talking about.Wil knew the old autocrat had originally been anagent of Aztlan sent to prepare the Northwest for invasion."Okay, Rober.I'llthink about it.Thanks for talking."Richardson seemed to have guessed Wil's phantom position on his porch.Hisdark eyes stared intensely into Wil's."Take care of yourself, Wil."The cool, northern playground wavered for a second, like a dream of paradise then vanished, replaced by the hard reality of dark plastic, glimmering dis-plays, and unconscious New Mexicans.What now, Lieutenant?Calling Rober had been his only real idea.He could call MSP, but he hadPage 21ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlnothing helpful to tell them.He leaned on the console, his hands slidingslickly across his sweaty face.Why not just do as Rober suggested? Give upand let the tide of history take care of things.No.Lots of people talk about the "inevitable tide of history." Briersoncouldn't imagine such a thing, except as it might exist in the determinationand imagina-tion of individuals.Government had been a human institution for thousands ofyears; there was no reason to believe the Republic of New Mexico would fallapart by itself.Their actions had to be shown to be impractically expensive.And there was another, more personal, reason.Richardson talked as though thisinvasion were something special, something that transcended commerce andcourts and contracts.That was wrong.Except for their power and theirself-righteousness the New Mexicans were no different from some chopper gangmarauding MSP customers.And if he and MSP let them take over, it would bejust as much a default.As with Rober, reliability was one of MSP's strongestselling points.So MSP had to keep fighting.The only question was, what could he and Al andJim do now?Wil twisted around to look at the exterior view mounted by the hatch.It was atypically crass design flaw that the view was independent of the van's com-puters and couldn't be displayed except at the doorway.There wasn't much to see.The division HQ was dispersed, and the van itselfsat in the bottom of a ravine.The predominant impression was of smoking foli-age and yellow limestone.He heard the keening of light turbines.Oh boy.Three overland cars were coming their way.He recognized the sergeant he had24talked to a few minutes earlier.If there was anything left to do, he'd betterdo it now.He glanced around the van.Strong was a high presidential advisor.Was thatworth anything? Wil tried to remember.In Aztlan, with its feudal setup, sucha man might be very important.The safety of just a few leaders was the wholepurpose of that government.The New Mexicans were different.Their rulers wereelected; there were clear laws of succession, and people like Strong wereprobably expendable.Still, there was an idea here: such a state was somethinglike an enormous corporation, with the citizens as stockholders.The analogywasn't perfect no corporation could use the coercion these people practicedon their own.And there were other differences.But still.If the top peoplein such an enormous organization were threatened, it would be enormously moreeffective than if say the board of directors of MSP were hassled.Therewere at least ten police services as powerful as MSP in the ungoverned lands,and many of them subcontracted to smaller firms.The question, then, was how to get their hands on someone like HastingsMartinez or this General Crick.He punched up an aerial view from somewheresouth of the combat area.A train of clouds had spread southeast from theSchwartz farm.Otherwise the air was faintly hazy.Thunderheads hung at thenorthern horizon.The sky had that familiar feel to it.Topeka Met Servicecon-firmed the feeling: this was tornado weather.Brierson grimaced.He had known that all day.And somewhere in the back of hismind, there had been the wild hope that the tornados would pick the rightpeople to land on, Which was absurd: modern science could kill tornados, butno one could direct them
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