Vulcan's Forge by Jack Du Brul Page B

324 does not equal secession, it means parity. Our state is now wholly self-sufficient. We trade more with Japan than we do with California, so why shouldn’t we be entitled to keep the tax revenue from our own labor? I no longer see any benefits from Washington, just inept meddling. I see us helping to prop up a system that has simply gotten away from itself, and I say: Don’t take us with you.
    “While the mainland sinks into a bottomless pit of crime and drug abuse, where drive-by shootings no longer make the news, where teenage pregnancy accounts for thirty percent of the children born, where welfare assistance has turned into a crutch for those too lazy to work, we have prospered.
    “Do you think it fair we should pay for their corruption?”
    The frenzied crowd shouted a defiant, “No!”
    “Is it right that we must pay for their excesses?”
    Again, with one hate-filled voice the crowd screamed, “No!”
    “Last night, the vice president of the United States branded me a secessionist.” The crowd was transmuting into a mindless mob, barely kept in check by Takamora’s voice. “I say, Don’t tempt me .”
    Takamora’s last words were spoken in a low hiss, then he ducked from the stage, wearing the adulation of the crowd like a cloak. An aide handed him a bottle of beer and a towel. He took a quick swig and wiped the greasy makeup from his face.
    “Listen to them,” he said to the assembled aides. “They’re ready for anything.”
    As Takamora leaned into the sound of the crowd beyond the maroon curtain, an aide slid a ringing cellular phone from his pocket, listened for an instant, then handed it to Takamora.
    “Yes.”
    “Congratulations, David, a rousing speech.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Ohnishi, I’m pleased you were able to hear it.” The microphones in the convention center had been wired into a transceiver and the signals sent to Ohnishi’s house. “Can you still hear the crowd, sir?”
    “Yes, you are certainly the man of the hour.”
    “Only with your help, Mr. Ohnishi,” Takamora replied honestly, acknowledging the massive support given to him by the aging industrialist.
    “I think now is the time to step up our campaign, don’t you?” Ohnishi’s comment was not really a question, it was a command.
    “I agree, sir,” Takamora replied, keeping the pretense of a free will. “What do you have in mind?”
    “A few bombings, better arms for the youth gangs, and a little more selectivity to their targets. Our day is rapidly approaching, so we must be more organized. Kenji will contact you in the morning with all the particulars.”
    “But the vote for Referendum 324 is still a week away—aren’t we jumping the gun slightly?”
    “Some unforeseen contingencies have arisen that may force me to abandon the subterfuge of Referendum 324. Who cares if the people won’t be allowed their vote? We will give them what they want anyway. What I want to know is if your National Guard troops will maintain their loyalty throughout our campaign.”
    “You can count on them, sir, at least those units that I’ve personally built up since taking office. As you know, the crack units here in Honolulu are made up of Japanese-Americans, young men and women who feel the same as we do. It is only a matter of time until the governor calls them out, unwittingly putting more of our people on the streets. I guarantee that they will not interfere with your gangs.”
    “And if the President calls out federal troops?”
    Takamora hesitated for an instant. “The guardsmen will be willing to take them on. Remember, the military presence on the island represents the greatest source of antagonism among our people. It is the same here as it was on Okinawa following the rape of that little girl in 1996.”
    “Good, and, David, never question me again.” Ohnishi’s tone was saccharine, but hard edged.
    Takamora shut off the phone with a snap, angered that his euphoria of a few moments ago had been chilled by