"Which we would have to pay for anyway," Carrera conceded, with a sigh. "But that doesn't change that we're still doing everything we can."
"And yet the drugs still get through," Wallis said.
Parilla suppressed a sneer, not so much at Wallis as at the policies of his country. Still, he said, "They wouldn't if you hadn't split our country."
"The Tauran Union is not running drugs," Wallis insisted.
"No, they're not," Parilla agreed, with a shake of his old, gray head. "At least so far as I know, they're not. But the stinking corrupt oligarchs you people insisted have a safe base in the capital are running the drugs."
Wallis inclined his head, skeptically. "Can you prove that?"
"We're working on it," Carrera answered.
"Right. And you know what the rump government says?"
"I can imagine," Parilla said. "But they're lying sacks of shit."
"I could stop the drug trade," Carrera said, a wicked, nasty tone in his voice. "I could stop it easily."
Don't go there, Patricio, thought Parilla. Though his friend was a lot better, a lot more human, these ten or twelve local months, there was still a monster lurking inside him, Parilla believed, which monster could emerge without warning. He sensed that monster's presence now.
"I'd just take all the drugs we seize in a year," Carrera continued. "Then I'd poison them—I might have to go to Volga for a suitable poison, something with a delayed effect, and then sell them to distributors in the Federated States and Tauran Union. No living drug users; no drug problem."
He sighed and Parilla sensed the monster retreating.
"Fortunately or unfortunately, though, I've given up the power to do that."
Fortunately, Wallis thought. Because whether that would solve the problem or not, it would likely be considered an act of war.
"Will the Federated States support us if we take measures against the rump government?" Parilla asked.
Wallis shook his head. "In the absence of overwhelming proof that they're guilty, probably not. Even with that proof, many in my government would not believe it. And even if they did believe it, the Tauran Union would not let you take serious measures against their charges. There is a minority in the FSC—a large minority—that would like you to simply disappear."
"And still you expect us to do something about this beyond what we're doing," Carrera said. "Well fine, but you won't like that either."
Wallis answered, "The way you might be inclined to do it? Probably not. But Pat, it's not like the Federated States isn't willing to foot the bill in exchange for a little control. And we'll help you with any intelligence we have."
* * *
Later, after Wallis had left, Parilla asked with exasperation, "Why Patricio? Why the Hell do you feel compelled to say things like that?"
"Because it's the truth," Carrera shrugged. "When the Federated States invaded this country all those years ago—and remember, I was part of that invasion—we killed your people, now my people, because of a problem that originated in the Federated States. I didn't care too much about that at the time, but I do now. It was wrong and it was useless. The sheer fact that Wallis has a reason to come and bitch at us now shows us how useless it was.
"I mean, really, Raul; the sheer arrogance of the bastards, blaming Balboa for their own weakness." Carrera practically spat out the last word.
When Patricio goes native, Parilla thought, he really goes native.
"I need to talk to the full Senate," Carrera said.
And when he says he's going to subordinate himself to something; he keeps his word . . . even if he has to wrap himself in chains to do it.
"I'll set it up." Parilla chewed on the inside of his cheek for a few moments, eyes darting upwards as he pulled up a mental calendar. "They're not meeting in full session for about four days. Will that do?"
"That would be fine. Thanks, Raul."
Parilla nodded, briskly, then asked, "Just out of curiosity, what do you want from the Senate and, since I preside over it, me?"
"We need to do something ostentatious to keep the FSC at least neutral."
Parilla coughed. "Ostentatious?"
"Yes," Carrera agreed. "Ostentatious. An official declaration of war would be 'ostentatious.' "
Curia (Senate House), Ciudad Balboa, Balboa, Terra Nova
Whereas the Legislative Assembly building which predated the partition of the country was large, modern, and ostentatious to the point of tackiness, the building in which the one hundred and forty odd senators, plus Parilla, met was, if anything, understated. Its exterior walls were of dressed but unpolished granite from the quarries on the other side of the Transitway. A portico projected about thirty feet out from the main roof, held up by four columns of the same material as the walls. A single broad stone staircase the width of the building led down from the base of the columns to street level.
Flanked by guards, Carrera walked up those stairs, to the platform upon which rested the columns, to the bronze doors that guarded the main entrance.
"Guards stay outside, Jamie," Carrera said to Soult . . . who plainly didn't like the order. Soult nodded acceptance, even so, and posted the guards around the door.
At the door was a liveried servant of the Senate. Carrera announced himself to the servant, formally, "Dux Bellorum Patricio Carrera requests audience with the Senate of the Republic." He then took out and handed over his service pistol.
This the senatorial servant tucked into his belt before he turned away to make the announcement. Carrera thought, If these fuckers stand at attention when I come into the chamber I will kill them. He then asked himself, Hmmm, why is that? Answer: Because I need them to be a check on me, not a rubber stamp, not a collection of subordinates.
* * *
Parilla, sitting in a curule chair, wondered, Will these people understand what I've explained to them, that they must not treat Patricio as their boss for his sake? I hope so. We can't put on him, or let him take upon himself, all the moral burden. Not anymore. If we do, we'll crush him. And if we crush him, lose the use of him, we'll lose our country permanently.
* * *
The senators didn't rise, though plainly enough some of them weren't comfortable with remaining seated. In any case, instead Carrera gave a polite half bow and began to speak. "Thank you, President Parilla, gentlemen of the Senate, for agreeing to listen to me today."
Again, almost, Carrera began his speech with the words, Conscript Fathers. Since however, he actually had more or less conscripted the Senate, he thought better of it. Besides, his speech, while intended to affect the senate, had for form's sake to appear to be aimed primarily at Parilla.
"It has been pointed out to me," Carrera said, "that the Federated States of Columbia is in a war. It has also been pointed out to me that we, here in the Republic, are de jure neutrals in that war. Indeed, we patrol, partially at our own expense and partially at the expense of the FSC, in order to maintain our neutrality in that war, by keeping those prosecuting that war out of our territory.
"That war is their war on the illegal trafficking in drugs. Besides the Federated States on the one hand, and their co-belligerents, the Tauran Union, on the other, the other parties are a mix of criminals, social revolutionary guerillas turned criminal, and even some persons"—Carrera didn't mention the rump government by name, but deliberately looked in the general direction of the old Presidential Palace to make the point—"within the Republic."