- AC -
As Selene, the guardian of the night, moved toward the horizon, its white surface darkened only by a single small spot of dark grey, dawn rose upon Norr Americae. It was a dawn that its citizens believed to finally bring change and hope to their darkened lives, under the new leadership of President Robert Bohm, in office since five weeks.
“The cameras are set up,” a technician informed the group composed of the President, his chiefs and council members, his Counsellor, and the Chief Advisor of Public Relations.
A council member looked nervously around him as the group seated around the vast table, and asked:
“May I know the purpose of this?”
“You’re Chief Jones, right? It’s true that it’s your first meeting since your leave of absence,” Bohm remarked. “I’ve decided to film our meetings for public release.”
Chief Jones’ face grew pale, and he looked at Randall Redspear for clarification; the Counsellor was however paying him no attention.
“You can’t be serious. That’s a major breach of security!”
“We’ll obviously refrain from sensitive subjects; however, past presidents kept their meetings secret, and where did it get the population’s trust? The Civil Uprising, that’s what old ways of doin’ things led to. But what do we have to hide from the public? Nothing. We’ve however everything to gain by finally providin’ transparency in the deeper workings of politics. That’ll greatly prevent mistrust and conspiracy feelings within the population whom are expecting to trust us.”
Chief Jones could only stare back in shock. He opened his mouth, but decided against it, and sat down without words.
Quickly, the room was filled with chats, reunions talks; after a few minutes, Randall Redspear cleared his throat.
“It’s a beautiful morning, ladies and gentlemen, let’s not waste it,” the Counsellor’s calm but direct voice appeased the chatter in the room. Everyone stopped at once; they knew better than to talk over Bohm’s strange but powerful right-hand man. “We won the election, we must now uphold our promises. First of all, how is the self-defense distribution centers going?”
One of the chief spoke with visible uneasiness:
“Very well, sir. The number of distribution centers has grown three percent within the last four weeks after your orders, and we’ve already seen a rise of fifteen percent in sales.”
“Very good; keep it going. A population that owns its own safety within its own hands is a safe and satisfied one.”
“Indeed,” President Bohm chimed. “Now, Mr. Solomon, I gather that you studied the public reports that my council gave you; what do you suggest as the next improvement?”
Abraham Solomon met the gaze of Randall, and as the latter gave a discreet nod, he began:
“Well, Mr. President, you have several states in recession. It is not only bad economically, but a threat to the popularity of your newly elected party. People voted for you because you promised to understand their struggle; something must then be done about it. There are quite staggering amounts of potential middle-class families, whom are burdened by recession and high cost of living, so we should target them. I suggest that we slowly start by enforcing a tariff ceiling on the cost of certain necessities, such as food and rent, and force the participating parties to lower the fees back to a more reasonable reach for the population. A simple five percent each trimester would greatly help against the recession. We should also establish a basic plan for the lower class, say two hundred dollars each week, for starters. Most of these people live in existing shelters, so that additional money will
cover their food, and perhaps more. We have to try and get the low class up living and buying.”
“Then work on it,” Bohm ordered the council.
“Mr. President, this is impossible to implement,” Chief Jones protested. “Lower the income and the food tariffs, and we have no revenue. Especially something as drastic as five percent each trimester. As for the basic plan, it is downright farfetched.”
“How come?” Randall coldly intervened.
“We simply do not have enough money to spare. The present state of the economy cannot allow such drastic changes; we already owe trillions in debt to Evropa and Zhongguo.”
“Following my suggestion will require sacrifices, a change in our budget distribution, and borrowing from investors; but it will make the economy climb back up in the long term. We will be able to pay our debts. What the economy needs is Americani buying again; no one buys right now, because no one has any money left,” Abraham replied.
“It’s simply impossible; you of all people should know it, you studied Economy,” Jones argued.
“Yes; and there’s a difference between the numbers written on paper, and actual life. You self-called economists are so mind-set on statistics, you lack the people’s view. Between spending the leftover hundred dollar bill at the end of the week, or accumulating it to pay for the rent when their salary will fail or when they’ll lose their jobs, the people accumulate money, they don’t spend it as the numbers on papers say that they should. Give them more money, especially assured money, and they’ll start to spend again and it will compensate.”
“And I tell you it’s a bad strategy!”
“Very well; what do you suggest?” Randall challenged the council chief, while Bohm laid back in his chair, fingertips together, overlooking the debate in a detached manner.
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“We start to build more industries here, in Norr Americae. We create new jobs, and those jobs rebuild economy.”
Randall scoffed, and he smiled in derision:
“And that is why no one voted for your party, Jones. Mr. President, building enough industries here in Norr Americae to accommodate enough jobs will require precious billions of dollars…”
“... and not only will you have to fight against our present debt, you’ll need to repay all those billions that you lost building those industries, including the work force,” Abraham added; Randall’s eyes flushed briefly in anger at such an interruption, before cooling down. “Such a process may take ten years, if not more, before the economy balance out, just balance out, mind you, not even yet climb up. And during these times, the population not only gets poorer, but lose trust in your party, as it does exactly what all other parties did for the last thirty years. Not only that, but Zhongguo has already all the installations required, and it costs them almost nothing. If we sell items built here in Uni-states, the price will have to be high to compensate for the debt it costed; products from Zhongguo cost near to nothing. The purpose here is to get the population buying. When survival is targeted, they don’t care if what they buy is made in the Uni-states or in Zhongguo; as long as they can finally buy food, clothing, and necessities. Take these same billions that you were going to spend in industries, and give it to the population. Industries are already up and running in Zhongguo, they supply us. The money that the population receive finally go at buying. Economy climbs in less than five years. Not by much, but it climbs. And we have a bonus: they trust your party. And they will vote for you or your party again.”
“I have plenty of investors ready to lend money, as long as they have proof that they will get the money back one way or another,” Randall continued, interrupting Jones as the latter started to speak. “They do not trust politics, but I convinced them of your vision and your good intentions, Mr. President. Should you give the word, they will help you.”
“But it’s impossible!” Jones finally intervened.
“Jones, their plan is solid,” Bohm replied coldly, sitting back straight in his chair, and leaning against the table edge, staring at the chief. “Unless you come up with an even stronger plan, as quick and efficient, yes, I’m leanin’ toward accepting what I’m hearin’ from Mr. Solomon and Mr. Redspear.”
“And to find money, we mustn’t forget that half of the council here has also exorbitant salaries, Mr. President,” Randall coldly added.
To his words, the council members froze. Bohm surveyed them, slightly confused as to where his Counsellor was going with it.
“Mr President, when we started this party, it was not to make Americae great and rich, it was to help the abandoned population, abandoned by such a concept. You, myself, and Mr. Solomon here have all created this out of charity. Our past businesses, built and paid by the population, helped us live well; but now, we have everything that these citizens don’t have: a fully paid house, good food, enough money to live for decennial. So do we truly need such continuous high salaries? Isn’t it charitable to give back to the population what it helped us obtain? When we both started, we denied such authoritarian concept that is the elite. We quite literally work here as volunteers, to help the population when no other governments did. Mr. Solomon here, highly qualified, has followed the same path of charity. But here I see the council members, having salaries that are almost five times higher than yours, Mr. President, for a smaller job... I believe it quite unfair, and against our oath to be equal to the citizens. Especially when my own Council has hundreds of highly qualified candidates that would work as efficiently, if not better, for a tenth of what this Council earns.”
The faces of the council members were livid white. Randall smiled at them, and Abraham could see the predatorial menace oozing from the old man’s icy eyes.
Bohm also smiled, and laid back in his chair, staring at the members.
“Well said, Mr. Redspear. It’s true that such salaries are against our Constitution, against my principles and those of my party. In any case that some of you forgot, I was born and raised in a state afflicted by recession and poverty. I know, and trust me, I know, how life was cruel and hard. I became President to fix the same lives across Uni-states than what was mine, as I wished that a President could have done the same with my family. Redspear and Solomon’s words rings truly deep within my soul.
» From this day forth...” and his voice rose higher to be heard by the camera filming the meeting, “... your salary will be cut of sixty percent for the first year. That’ll give you time to adjust yourselves. Next year, you’ll earn the same salary, like all of us, we who actually work to serve Americae, not rule it. The money gained from those cuts will join those of Randall’s investors, and we’ll implement Solomon’s plan of food and rent tariff cuts, as well as the assured money plan for the poor. It’ll require sacrifice, and trust, and better relations with Zhongguo; but the welfare of the population is worth all of that.
» Mr. Redspear, if you can contact your investors, you can convey my personal assurance that their help will be rewarded.”
“It will be done, Mr. President,” Randall nodded.
Bohm turned to the silent council members, his gaze unforgiving despite his calm demeanour.
“All of you are ordered to work with Mr. Solomon to implement his plan. I give him full responsibility of this project, and that means that you follow his every order. Those of you that won’t comply within the first trimester will be fired, and there are plenty of young and highly qualified volunteers that’ll gladly replace you. This is my first Directive.”
A stunned silence greeted the President’s order. Abraham smiled discreetly despite himself; he was now within the highest circle of the elite.
“Anything else?” Bohm asked.
“Yes, as a matter of fact,” Randall acknowledged. “There are a few corporations tied to the previous governments that we should break relations with. I will give the full list when the reports are entered, but these corporations often influenced past governments, and we can’t allow that in yours. If we are to be a people’s party, we mustn’t allow bribery and greed-oriented influences from shady corporations. The transition will be hard, but my people is working at creating a pure AAP system that will take care of some products or services given by these corporations. I will go into details in another meeting when I will have an absolute answer and solution.
» And as we preciously discussed, I’m having my final meeting with the Gnasci Convention in relation to the gradual demilitarization of Americae alongside the other eleven other Imperial Gnascis to a more reasonable size; once again, that will mean freeing up the military budget toward a more economical use.”
“Perfect; I’ll let you take care of that,” Bohm approved. He surveyed the room, and as no one spoke, he rose. “This meeting is complete. I suggest that for the good of the people, we all start workin’ hard right away, as we’ve done for the last five weeks. Good day to all.”
The rest of the members rose, and all shot furious gazes at Randall and Abraham, but all quickly left the room. Bohm shook the hand of his Counsellor and Chief Advisor and left with them, asking for in-depth details upon his role in the new plan. The camera shut off, and in the operative room, a copy was made to be edited and released for the population, to reveal the new AAP Plan.
The news spread like wildfire, exciting the hopeless citizens, who finally saw a light pierce their black lives. The name of AAP or President Robert Bohm was on everyone’s lips, and the few who clung to opposing parties started to be seen as troublemakers. A new era seemed to poke through the mist…