The Mace

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This book, in its entirety, is a work of fiction. Any similarity to any person, whether living or dead, is coincidental and was never intended by the authors.

All rights to this book are reserved under Canadian and International copyright laws. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, by any electronic or mechanical method, including any information capture, storage, retrieval and presentation systems, without permission, in writing, from the authors and publishers, except for a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review of the book.

Copyright © 2002
Tribal Heart Press
Published in Canada
First Edition: September 2002 ISBN # 0-9689351-1-7

INTRODUCTION

The exact moment in time The Mace appeared has been lost in antiquity. Eight hundred years ago, it was carried to the battlefields, to serve England’s Richard I against Philip II of France, as a weapon and symbol of power.

By the time it surfaced in the British Parliament in the 14th century, the spikes had been replaced by jewels and the Royal Coat of Arms crowned the top of its shaft; the Mace had become the symbol of the Monarch’s authority. As the Parliament grew in stature, the Mace became its symbol as well; by the 18th century, it fully represented both the Monarchy and the authority of Parliament. The Mace survived to modern times; in Britain and Canada, governments could only be in session if the Mace was present; protocols were precise.

At the turn of the 20th century, there had been two hundred years of relative peace between Canada and the United States. Canada was a little larger than its neighbour to the south, but in terms of economic and human numbers, it was a far different story. Canada had thirty million people, the U.S. – three hundred million. The economic output of Canada was one trillion, the output of the U.S. was over twelve trillion. The citizens of America were dispersed across their nation; the citizens of Canada lived on a narrow band stretched just above the U.S. border.

More simply, Canada was a nation larger than America, with the population and economic strength of southern California, that lived on a ribbon of land 100 miles wide and 4800 miles long. And above this ribbon? The largest areas of concentrated resources in the world.

Many people, on both sides of the border, encouraged the consolidation of the two countries. Economic barriers would be removed: Canada would benefit through unrestricted trade with the giant in the south, America would benefit by gaining access to the vast resources it needed to feed its growing population.

Some Canadians, however, wanted Canada to stay free of the melting pot; to remain as separate and unique as possible. By the turn of the century, however, the bindings had been pulled tight, until all that remained was the name on the masthead, and The Mace.

* * * * * * * *

SECTION ONE

In the last Provincial election of British Columbia, a new party was voted into power with a sweeping mandate. Everyone knew it was more than the platform of promises that created the stunning victory; the party that lost power had held the office for many years. Like so many other times across Canada, this was more a case of the voters ‘throwing the bastards out’.

~ 1 ~

Sunday, August 3rd Vancouver, BC

“Thanks, Tom. See you in the morning.”

Jack Jordan watched as the limousine drove away. His thoughts hadn’t focused since the close of the Premier’s Conference yesterday in Regina and he was glad to be back on familiar turf. He unlocked and dragged through his front door hoping Jean was home.

After dropping his travel bags in the foyer, the Premier of British Columbia walked to the kitchen and stood at the sink. He grabbed a dish towel, soaked it with hot water, and was holding it to his face when she came in through the back.

“Hey, you’re home.” She walked to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I missed you. How was the conference?” When he lowered the towel she saw it immediately, “You’re pale as a ghost. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m tired, but okay. I just feel like I got kicked in the head. You won’t believe what happened.”

“Are you ready to talk about it,” she asked, “or do you want to eat first? Can I make you a sandwich?”

“No, I just need to tell you.” He pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down. “Balderson dropped a bomb on us after the meetings closed yesterday. Saskatchewan is holding a referendum to leave Canada and join the United States. My God, that’s the first time I’ve said it out loud.”

She quickly reviewed: George Balderson. Premier of Saskatchewan for the last five years? six? She asked, “What happened? Did he flip out or something?”

“I wish that were the case, but it’s not. He told a few of us, in confidence, if he doesn’t get some immediate relief from the catastrophic problems they are having, the referendum would be announced. It’s worse than we realised. The drought, all the farm failures, and now the grasshopper infestations – all of it.” He paused and sipped on the water she had brought him. “Evidently he’s been talking to people in Washington and they’re ready to put forward to the U.S. Congress support for Saskatchewan to become the fifty-first State.”

She wasn’t convinced. “How can he pull this off? He can’t just dissolve the Provincial Parliament. And what about Ottawa - they’re not going to let this happen. I mean – what about the Constitution and the Charter? Saskatchewan can’t just pull up stakes and leave the country. Can they?”

Jack closed his eyes. “Apparently, Balderson has already conferred with his Cabinet. They don’t like the idea any more than he does, but they haven’t come up with another option. The idea may have come from their Agriculture Minister, I don’t know. Even the other side, the opposition, thinks joining the States could be their only way out – unless somebody comes up with a better idea.”

He looked at her and continued, “Jean, if this happens, it will affect us beyond anything we can imagine.”

She got up from the table and walked slowly into the living room. Deep in thought, Jean could hear her husband back at the sink. After a few moments, he followed and sat next to her on the couch.

“Is there anything that Ottawa can do?” she asked, “Surely, they will come up with an emergency plan.”

He knew his wife was grasping at straws. “Honey, you know the situation as well as I do. First of all, if they decide to leave Canada, there’s nothing that Ottawa can do. The U.S. can prevent a state from seceding, but we can’t prevent a province from leaving Canada. We wouldn’t send troops in, we just don’t do that. Even if we did, Ottawa wouldn’t have the manpower and material to force them to stay.”

“Second,” he said with more difficulty, “Ottawa doesn’t have the money to bail out the entire Province of Saskatchewan. Third, even if it did have the resources, Ottawa can’t set that precedent. What happens if Manitoba is next, then Atlantic Canada, then Quebec.”

Jack snorted. “Quebec. Now there’s the irony. For over forty years we’ve gone through the trials of Quebec separation referendums, doing all the doomsday scenarios about what would happen if they became a sovereign nation. Now, just when they’ve finally settled down, Saskatchewan – of all places – decides to join the U.S. of A. What an incredible piece of irony. Who would have believed it.”

“And here we are, finally getting our economy back in order – and there’s about to be an earthquake ripping Canada in half. Wait. Not an earthquake, more like a black hole. Let’s hope it doesn’t suck us down with it.”

Jean visualised Canada with a hole in its middle the size of Saskatchewan. She quietly asked, “Why would they even want the Province, especially with the problems?”

He knew that she knew why. ‘She must be in as much shock as I was,’ he thought. “Why wouldn’t they? The U.S. would be acquiring a land mass twice the size of California for the price of a rescue effort. As far as business and industry goes, most of the larger farms are already controlled by U.S. and Canadian giants, like CanAgra and ACM, those farmers will be protected by acreage payments. It’s the smaller independents that are hurting the most, but as a State they qualify for farm subsidies. And, adding a million people to the American population base would barely affect their support systems. Saskatchewan has less people than a New York City neighbourhood.”

She leaned over and put her head in his lap. “Let me ask you this,” she said. “If and when the people vote, will they vote Yes?”

He ran his hand through her hair. She had always been there for him, thank God some things stay the same. Tenderly, he said, “I don’t know. My gut instinct tells me they will. We can’t kid ourselves. A lot of people would love to be a part of the American economy, so many have headed south for that very reason. I just don’t know, Jean. In the end, everybody just does the best they can to survive.”

Saskatchewan was drowning and the U.S. was the biggest lifeboat in the world. It was also the only one.

~ 2 ~

Sunday, August 3rd Victoria, BC

High above the water, Gloria looked out over the inner harbour of the city. She watched the sail boats as they skimmed along the rocky shoreline, headed towards Juan de Fuca, the southern route to the Pacific Ocean.

The tiny speck she had been waiting for appeared; Hank MacDougall’s sea-plane banked around the point and dropped into the glide path of the harbour landing area. Hank loved to fly, and the plane was necessary for him to oversee the MacDougall holdings, scattered throughout the 600-kilometre-long island.

She watched him check the tie-down that held his plane to the dock. Such a wonderful man, she thought. Gloria dearly loved both Hank and Mira; they’d been very supportive when Craig died and had both remained close friends over the years. Mira was an absolute delight, Hank was the rock-solid businessman.

“Elliot, on the other hand,” she laughed, “is our group conscience and resident genius.” Elliot Stevens had called Gloria that morning, and asked her to arrange an emergency meeting of the Chamber.

It had started on a whim, ten years ago. Gloria, Hank and Elliot would get together several times a year and hold their own think-tank sessions, creating different scenarios – all on topics of mutual interest. Politics, environment, economics. They had nick-named their intensive little club of three the ‘Chamber’.

For the last few years, they had focused on events that directly affected Canada and the U.S., especially those that involved increasing American presence in Canada. Though long-established capitalists, each with their own ‘empires’ as Gloria liked to call hers, they were all extremely passionate about the uniqueness of the Canadian way of life. They agreed what a great loss it would be if Canada ‘was’ ever completely assimilated. It had been the thrust of many of their debates.

When the problems in Saskatchewan began dominating the national news, their focus turned to a re-occurring theme: the possibility of statehood. Would that create the door to the rescue resources? What would happen if Saskatchewan left Canada?

Gloria heard the elevator buzz, both Hank and Elliot appeared. “Come in you two. The bar is open; grab me one.” Hank headed for the kitchen while Elliot sat in his favourite chair. She waited until Hank returned and handed them a beer before asking, “Okay Elliot, what’s happened? Did you hear something?”

Elliot Stevens, owner, creator and driving force behind Stevens Engineering, twisted off the cap, took a long drink, leaned back and began. “It’s confirmed. I heard from my contact in Regina. At the close of the Premier’s conference yesterday – Balderson announced, behind closed doors, that he would be formulating the wording on the referendum and, unless there’s a major change in circumstances, he would be making the announcement in about two weeks.”

Hank and Gloria were stunned, but not all that surprised. After a few minutes, she broke the silence. “Well, gentlemen, there is always the Plan.”

They stared at her - was she crazy? Did she really think they could do something of that magnitude?

At their last session, they created an emergency ‘Plan’ in the event Saskatchewan made the decision it was now apparently making. It was a daring plan to save Canada – or rather – a plan to save those things that made Canada great.

Hank said, “Scripting is one thing – but to try and implement this? Are you serious?”

She was. “Hank, there is no harm in trying. Look, almost everything is in place anyway, no one will get hurt. The only risks are financial ones on our part and – those risks aren’t that big if you look at it – and…”

Elliot stopped her. “Gloria, what about the political component? Who do we know for that?”

She answered, “I’ve been thinking about that since we came up with the idea. Do you remember Ted Underwood from the last election?”

Peter Townsend, Gloria’s son, had been the Party Chairman during the election. He had introduced Ted to his mother; Ted had, unintentionally, made quite an impression on her. Peter later confirmed that Theodore Underwood had garnered the influence and trust of the White House in Washington D.C., with connections to Parliament in Ottawa, and, since the election, to the Legislature of British Columbia.

Hank walked to the kitchen and opened another beer. He’d heard of Underwood and had also thought he may be able to handle that part of the Plan when it was first conceived, but hadn’t known that Gloria knew Ted. He looked over at Elliot and saw he was starting to agree with her. ‘Lord help us,’ he thought, and did a quick mental tally of his holdings on the island and mainland. ‘Better hung for a lion than a sheep,’ he decided.

“Do we do this?” Elliot asked. “Is this it?”

After a few moments, Gloria said, “I vote yes.”

Hank, “Yes.”

Elliot, “I agree.”

Gloria walked over to her desk. She pulled a small book from the top right drawer and found the number she’d conveniently acquired during the election. The memory of Ted’s voice returned as the machine started: “Hi, you’ve reached my New York office. Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

“Ted, hello. This is Gloria Townsend out in Victoria British Columbia. We met a few years ago during the provincial elections. She thought and willed: Pick up... pick up the phone… "Ted, if you are there I need to... ” Ted picked up. “Hello, Gloria. What a pleasant surprise. How are you, my dear?”

“Fine, just fine. Ted, I need to come straight to the point. We may need your help again. I can’t really go into it over the phone. If there is any way you can give us some time, to come here and take a look at what we need, it would be very much appreciated. Frankly, Ted, you may be one of the few people who could handle this for us.”

“How soon do you need me there?”

“As soon as possible.” She smiled and nodded at Elliot and Hank.

He’d picked up the urgency from more than just her words. He should be able to fly out from Kennedy Airport sometime tomorrow evening, he told her, and would be in Victoria by Tuesday. She gave him her phone number; he said he would call after settling in.

Hank and Elliot were deep in thought by the time Gloria thanked Ted and hung up. She walked back over and sat down. “Ted will tell us if this is even possible. If it is – and, other than the political aspect we know it is – I say it’s a go.”

Elliot went for a beer. ‘This should be interesting,’ he mused. ‘Exactly how does one steal a Mace?’

~ 3 ~

Sunday, August 3rd New York City, NY

He replaced the phone on its cradle. Ted Underwood generally didn’t ‘pick-up’ but he had quickly remembered who Gloria Townsend was. After her husband died, she’d turned a small grocery chain into Townsend Foods, Townsend Farms, Townsend Produce, Townsend Trucking, Townsend Distribution and probably more since he’d seen her last. A major player, not one to treat lightly…or cross swords with. He looked forward to the meeting, and a few days out of the city would be great.

As he glanced through his office window, Ted could see the beginnings of twilight. He changed his shoes and headed down through the lobby. ‘Good time for a walk,’ he thought. ‘Good time for a new contract too.’ He’d started his professional life with the National Security Agency, but after six years of analysis work he grew bored. He’d resigned to form his own consulting practice, and over the next twenty years, Ted had established himself as a political strategist and advisor. Recently, he had served as senior advisor on election campaigns in the U.S., Canada, and in the United Kingdom. Wisely, he always tried to maintain the connections made during those contracts; connections which frequently came in very handy. His last project ended a few weeks ago; Ted was waiting for the next surprise life would be handing him. ‘Given human nature,’ he thought as he turned south and walked down Lexington Avenue, ‘I’ll always have work.’

After returning to his office, Ted settled in to spend a few hours online. “Time to see what’s new in BC,” he said to his system as it woke up. Finding what he was after, he typed some notes:

1/ Economy base: Resource-Tourist-Tech.
Population-three million, 80% urban, 20% rural.
Twice the geographic size of California
[note: if Canada is the hardware store, then BC is the raw materials isle: minerals, large forestry industry, even larger potential for fossil fuel development.] Tourism-increasing. Attempts to ramp up hi-tech sector.

2/ People: Modern, independent, westward thinking, strong social conscience. Cultural Mosaic.
Diverse minorities. white majority-English/Irish/Scots
strong but small indigenous-First People element
strong minority elements in Vancouver and Victoria: Chinese/South/Central Asian.

3/ Trends: Tag-lined by eastern Canada as ‘lotus land’ about the same time California was tagged ‘la la land’: mainly due to ideal weather conditions along the southern edge/coastal area and myth of ‘easy living, laid-back lifestyle’ [mass-media fuelled]. Growing retirement community base along US border, primarily Vancouver and populated areas of Vancouver Island.

4/ Mindset: Satisfied with Canada’s constitutional monarchy. Moderate loyalist ties [fealty to Queen –UK]. Relationship with US- Good. Very willing to export energy, water, hydro-electric power [as long as BC’ers are fed first]. Independent thinking extends to not being tied to Eastern Establishment Canada. No deep seated resentment, but a rhythm/beat that easterners take BC for granted creates some ‘western alienation’ [media tag]. Relations dialogue with Washington/Oregon /California: no problem.
[No migration/invasion issue as there was with Californians into Oregon/Utah/Montana].

Ted leaned back in his chair. “And Gloria Townsend has an emergency. Oh Gloria,” he grinned, “what are you up to now and will I be able to refuse your request?” He clicked the link to his online travel agent and reserved the flight to Seattle. He’d catch a heli-jet to Vancouver Island from there.

~ 4 ~

Tuesday, August 5th Victoria, BC

Once again, Ted found himself looking out on the picturesque harbour of Victoria. Yesterday he had been in the scorching heat of mid-summer, mid-town Manhattan. And now, he was back in paradise. ‘I could get real used to this,’ he thought.

He left his hotel room, went down to the lobby and asked for directions to Shoal Point Towers. The concierge assured Ted he could walk straight west, follow the walkway as it curves to the left, along the harbour inlet. “You can’t miss it – it’s the biggest development on the waterfront. At most, a ten minute walk.” Ted’s journey took him above the inner harbour promenade, past the Parliament buildings and finally along the front of a number of hotels and condominiums. Spotting the tallest, he walked through the gates of Shoal Point. Gloria buzzed him in and was waiting as he walked off the elevator.

“Ted, hello,” she smiled warmly. “Great to see you again. Come in, let me introduce you.” As they walked through the door, Ted saw the other two guests. Shaking hands, Gloria introduced him to Hank MacDougall of MacDougall Enterprises, and Elliot Stevens of Stevens Engineering.

“Ted? Can I get you anything? Something to drink?”

“Thanks, no. I’m fine.”

After they were comfortable, Gloria began.

“We appreciate you coming on such short notice. I think you’ll understand the urgency, our reasoning and why we called you. We know that you’re connected. You may have already heard about Saskatchewan. They have done a pretty good job keeping it a secret, but, their problems are big and their options are few.”

Ted realised he wasn’t the only connected one in the room. Gloria continued, “We have good reason to believe the Province of British Columbia will also become a U.S. State – possibly within the next two years. There are some things we want to try and put in place before that happens, and other things that have to happen before the general public gets wind that Saskatchewan might be headed south.”

“If your contract fee is the same as it was two years ago, for the work you did for the Province, we have no difficulty with that amount. Naturally we would also be paying for your expenses. We’ll need your eyes and ears, your perceptions, for the events and circumstances that will undoubtedly unfold – and to interact with us, developing plans, if necessary.”

“We would like you to base your operations here in Victoria, if possible, and to bring whatever you feel you may need for this contract. Am I making myself clear, so far?”

“Yes, very clear,” Ted said. “I have many questions, but yes, I understand the situation.”

Gloria looked at Hank. It had been a 2-1 vote as to who would tell Theodore Underwood about the Plan. Hank cleared his throat and began.

It took about thirty minutes. Detailed questions were asked by Ted and answered by all. Eventually, it became apparent that he realised what they had in mind, and what their Plan would require of him. Ted stood to stretch. Walking over to the windows, he looked down at the plane bobbing next to the dock. “Yours?” he asked Hank. Smiling, Hank answered, “Yeah. I built it.” Ted nodded, walked back and leaned against the back of the sofa. “You people really want to try this? You’re willing to risk that kind of money on this idea?”

“Its ours to lose,” Gloria said.

‘Oh Teddy,’ he thought to himself. ‘Do you really want to be a part of this?’ There are turning points in everyone’s life. He’d had two – and the last one was too long ago. Ted looked at Elliot and said, “I’m in.”


Gloria softly asked him, “Would you like a drink now?”

“Yes, please. Scotch. No ice, no water.”

The meeting continued another two hours. Ted knew what needed to be done. He also knew that, with a little luck, he would be able to deliver for these people – to help make this happen.

Back in his hotel suite, Ted checked his watch and realised phoning his contacts would have to wait until morning. He changed into a pair of jeans and worked online through most of the night, researching what would be needed for the next day. He was tired but it had to be done; he had to be ready. Tomorrow, he would be meeting the Premier of British Columbia.

~ 5 ~

Wednesday, August 6th Victoria, BC

Jack Jordan had been at work a few hours when his staff began trickling in. He’d ignored the phones buzzing in the outer office; calls could wait for his secretary to screen. One of the first she put through was from Hank MacDougall. Jack knew Hank and his wife Mira; both had always been loyal supporters.

“Hank, great to hear from you. How is Mira these days, and your kids?”

“Everyone’s doing great Jack, Mira sends her greetings.” Hank switched the tone, “Premier, if there is any way possible, I would like to meet with you late this afternoon – or early evening – which ever works better for you.”

“Let me check my schedule. Can you hold on for a minute?” Jack reached and put him on hold. Buzzing for his secretary to bring his schedule, the Premier found time at the end of the day. He clicked Hank back on. “I can give you my last time slot.”

Hank agreed, and told the Premier that he’d arranged a private room at the Victoria Club, if that was alright with him. “Yes,” Jack said. “I should be there by 5:30 or a little after.”

Jack wondered what this could be about. Maybe Hank caught wind of the Saskatchewan fiasco. Since discussing it with his wife, he had not revealed anything to anyone. Not in his office, not with Cabinet, not even with other party members. It was too risky. ‘If I can just continue for a little while longer,’ he thought. Finally, Jack was able to return to his schedule for the day.

Before the car stopped in front of the Club, the manager was at the front door to greet him. He quietly escorted the Premier towards one of the private rooms, and opened the door for him. Entering, Jack the politician made his way forward, scanning his memory for the placement of the other people there. ‘Okay, that’s Gloria Townsend…and Stevens…with the University maybe?’ Jack was almost on them when he recognised Underwood. ‘What’s he doing here? He’s been with Washington…oh shit! I bet they already know about the Referendum. They’re here to ask me about it.’

Hank welcomed him. “Thank you for meeting with us, Premier. I know you have full days, we’ll make this as brief as possible.”

“Yes. Thank you. Hello Mrs. Townsend, Mr. Stevens. Hello Ted. You’re a long way from home.” Jack chose the seat at the head of the table, the one usually reserved for him these days.

As Hank began to speak, and as the meeting progressed, the Premier didn’t need to confirm or deny anything. They all could see clearly in his eyes – that he knew – that they knew.

“Sir, we know about the Referendum. Additionally, in the last 24-hours we’ve learned that Quebec is having conversations with their liaison bureau in Washington. And, we know the Atlantic Provinces have a delegation in Washington. As far as we can determine, Ottawa has not learned yet about the others, only Saskatchewan.” Hank nodded towards Ted, who checked the hand-off.

“Mr. Premier,” Ted began, “We now know, with certainty, that if Saskatchewan votes Yes, there is little hope Canada could prevent a domino effect from occurring. Sir, we have individually, and together, assessed this situation. There are some critical steps that should be taken. Bold, resourceful, and intentional steps to position this Province for certain eventualities, including the dissolution of Canada, as we know it.”

The Premier sat stone-faced.

Elliot Stevens broke the silence. “You might think, Sir, that capitalists like us would welcome the opportunity to play in a bigger game. But we share one additional thing in common – maybe it’s an even stronger thing.”

“We understand what it means to have 40 million people living in the corridor that runs south of this Province. As soon as those 40 million realise completely what there is to offer here – and as soon as it’s as easy for them to come here as it is to go to Utah or Nevada – they will migrate by the millions. With all the opportunity for development? Under the blanket of U.S. sovereignty it will be more American than it is now. Hell, Mr. Premier, it will BE America.”

Gloria Townsend had remained silent. Jack Jordan was a strong man, but it was time to give him some good news. She caught Ted’s attention and nodded to him. He understood her signal and proceeded.

“Mr. Premier, to come directly to the point, here is what we need your help with.”

“First, we need you to stay the course, steady as she goes. Keep your Cabinet together during the Saskatchewan Referendum period of chaos that is about to occur.”

“Second, we need you to keep BC solid. British Columbia needs to exist for as long as possible, while the other Provinces begin to leave Canada.”

“Third, we need you to accelerate projects you have planned for the mainland and Vancouver Island. We need the Province to be in the strongest possible position before it becomes a State.”

Ted continued, “If you can do these things, I can say with certainty, and you may verify this with the Oval Office in Washington, you will become the first U.S. Governor of the State of British Columbia.”

It took Jack a long time to react. All remained quiet in deference to the Premier, allowing as much time as he needed to gather his thoughts. Finally, he smiled, reached into his pocket, pulled out his cell-phone and called Jean at home. “Cancel any plans for the evening,” he told her. “I’ll be home as soon as I can. Wait for me there.” He flipped the phone shut.

At the end of the third hour, Jack rose from his chair. He was still smiling when he thanked everyone personally and shook their hands. He turned, left the room and walked outside to his waiting car.

In the private room in the Victoria Club, the others debriefed. “From what I could determine, it went well,” Ted offered, “as well as any of us could expect.”

Elliot said, “I wonder what his reaction would have been if he knew the whole plan.”

Gloria answered that one. “It’s too soon. We need to resist that until Ted gets more of the pieces of the puzzle in place.”

“So what’s the next step?” Hank was ready to start.

As he stuffed papers into his briefcase, Ted said, “I’m going to fly out tomorrow, get what I need and drive back. I should be here by next Monday or Tuesday.”

Elliot spoke up, “Hey guys, I need some time alone. I really need to think through all of this. I’ll be back in a week.” They knew he would head for Tofino, on the west coast of the island.

Gloria and Hank agreed to meet the next day, to detail their next steps.

When Jack arrived home, Jean was waiting. He reached for her, kissed her long and hard. Finally, she stepped back and asked, “Wow. What happened?” Laughing, he quickly told her about the meeting as he took her hand and led her upstairs. She was in a daze from his words as he took her to their bed and, for the first time in a long time, they made love.

Afterwards, when he’d rolled onto his side and fell into a deep sleep, she snuggled in behind him. But, as she nuzzled and kissed his shoulder, her attention was focused on only one thing. She replayed his words over and over, committing them to memory. Suddenly, Jean realised exactly what this could mean - if she handled everything just right.

Eventually, she thought, Washington will need to place a leading ex-canuck somewhere high in office and they’ll want one that doesn’t carry a lot of federal baggage. An ex-premier of an ex-province could work out perfectly for them. She quietly slipped out of their bed, tied on her robe, walked to the writing table and edited her ‘to-do’ list well into dawn.

~ 6 ~

Wednesday, August 6th Washington, D.C.

When Ted arrived back at the hotel he went into action; there wasn’t much time to put this together. He had a week to get back to New York, with a side trip to Washington, then the drive back out to the west coast. First things first – call Adam.

It was close to midnight in New York when Adam heard Ted’s voice on the answering machine. He picked up right away: “Hey Ted. What’s up?”

“We are about to get busy. First - get all the toys together. We have to be back out in Victoria as soon as possible. Yes, both cars. Make sure our communication systems are on and ready to be accessed from anywhere. Contact building management, pay a year’s worth of rent. You know the routine. Any questions?”

“Just two. When do you get here, when do we leave?”

“Late tomorrow. I need to stop in Washington on the way, but that shouldn’t take long. Be ready to go by early evening.” Adam was about to ask if he should bring the scuba gear when Ted hung up.

After checking out of the hotel, Ted caught the Victoria Helicopter Service at the terminal. As he passed over the harbour on the way to Seattle, he noticed two massive Princess Line Cruise Ships at their moorings, their rows of lights still bright in the pre-dawn. ‘Lot of tourist dollars coming in from those floating hotels,’ he thought. ‘We’re going to need that to continue.’

By three that afternoon, Ted was on his way to the White House briefing room. Advance notice had been given to Security, only a quick body scan delayed him. He carried nothing; the file cabinet in his head contained what he needed. Once inside he met his contact, Pontiac.

“Ted, you look a little tired. Who are you working for these days?”

Ted briefed his long time friend, and kept it ‘short but not too big around’. As he finished, Ted looked directly at his contact and asked, “Does the boss know about Saskatchewan?” The response was a nod, yes. “Does he also know about the delegations from the Atlantic provinces and Quebec?” Another nod, yes. “Okay, how about the West. Does he know about the West?”

Pontiac leaned over: “Ted, without getting too specific, there may be a bit of a problem. California is about to have a little skirmish with Alberta and British Columbia over resources – we can see it coming. We may need your help if and when it evolves.”

“You got it.” Ted continued, “Just one other question. How about the votes in Congress, does the boss have them?” Again, another nod of yes.

“A question to you, Ted. When the timing is right, does British Columbia come on board quietly? No hassles, no problems?”

Ted had this answer ready: “For the most part. Some of the energy conglomerates don’t want this to happen. They want to retain control over resources.” He noticed the slight change in Pontiac’s expression; that was news to him, Ted realised.

“What do you need from us at this point, Ted?”

Ted smiled at his friend. “As always, just your direction and support.”

They knew the meeting was over; both agreed to keep the lines of communications open, if and when needed. On the way to Dulles International to catch the shuttle flight to New York City, Ted called Adam to let him know everything was on schedule.

~ 7 ~

Thursday, August 7th New York City, NY

After landing at La Guardia late that afternoon, Ted grabbed an airport limousine and directed the driver to take him to Murray Hill, Lexington and 39th Street.

His apartment was in a great old building. It had been built as a hotel in the 1930’s and later converted into large apartments; Ted had lived there for five years. When a unit two floors above came on the market, Adam Brooks quickly grabbed it. Adam had been Ted’s friend since their NSA days, and his associate for the last twelve years. He was Ted’s technical wizard, usually handling the communications and security aspects of the contracts. Six months after moving in, though the building was already pretty secure, Adam redesigned it’s security system and added a high-speed data network.

Ted got out in front of the building, paid the driver, and walked through the side security gate that lead directly to the underground parking. Whenever possible, and when the contract was on this continent, Ted and Adam would both drive to client locations. Their cars were identical vehicles that had been ‘retired’ from the Secret Service. Both were equipped with heavy-duty suspension, bullet proof glass, reinforced side panels, on-board satellite GPS tracking, satellite encrypted telecommunications (installed by Adam) and extra soundproofing. Neither money nor titles on the vehicles ever changed hands – they carried D.C. plates, and they simply remained as out of service vehicles in the Secret Service fleet pool.

After he’d heard from Ted, Adam had packed up both vehicles, climbed into the front of his, powered the driver’s seat back flat and napped. He woke as Ted approached and thought, ‘Ah, the journey begins.’

“How did it go?” he asked.

“Excellent. I’ll tell you about it on the way. Everything loaded and ready to go? Good.” They started up their engines and turned on their communications.

****

By the time Ted and Adam drove under the Hudson River and merged onto Interstate 80, David Heath, a geologist with the Bedford Institute in Nova Scotia, was settling in to watch a CBC special he had pre-recorded.

~ 8 ~

Thursday, August 7th Dartmouth, NS

As part of his everyday routine, Dr. David Heath rolled out of bed, found his glasses on the bedside table, walked to the kitchen and looked through the window across the deep water bay. He was a geologist with the Bedford Institute of Oceanography in Dartmouth, Nova Scotia and, like many of his colleagues, he preferred the quiet living found on the Halifax harbour. His cottage was on a rocky promontory; he could watch the weather patterns coming in from the Atlantic.

Before leaving for the Institute that morning, David had programmed his DVD system to record a CBC special that was to be broadcast that morning live from British Columbia. Just off the west coast of Vancouver Island, near the city of Tofino, an old warship was to be sunk. The beach was part of the Pacific Rim National Park, and included 50 kilometres of wide, white sand beaches, one of the most pristine and beautiful beach fronts along the entire West Coast. The warship would become part of the barrier reef and add a main attraction to this already popular tourist area for the growing crowd of scuba diving enthusiasts. CBC would be recording the final voyage of this old ship; David wanted to see the underwater shots.

He enjoyed his work at Bedford, his passion was the geologic study of Canada’s coastal waters. The Institute was world famous for the sonar techniques it had developed for scanning and imaging the sea floor, and the deepest trenches located around the world.

David looked at the photograph on the wall near his desk. It was one of the deepest recorded images ever taken; it had perfectly captured a still shot of an almost transparent yet luminous fish. David was amazed that any creature could survive under those pressures. The photograph, from the deep sea diving submersible, had logged the date and depth, 30,000 feet below the surface of the water. That fish lived farther below sea level, than the peak of Mt. Everest rose above it.

By noon, he decided to leave early. He picked up some fish and chips and headed home to watch the Tofino event. Setting his food on the coffee table in front of him, David sat down and picked up the remote.

The broadcast opened with Brian Edwards, CBC’s senior correspondent for the west coast, on the beach describing the event. First, there were interviews with sponsors of the event, and some file footage of the old warship. The next portion of the broadcast showed the ocean floor, well lit by the submersibles. David quickly finished his supper as he watched the next segment record the gelinite charges going off. They would rip the holes in the hull that were needed to sink the ship, as upright as possible, to the bottom of the shelf bed. That was the big event; the reporter described it would take awhile for the ship to settle into its new home, and that next week, they would have a short news brief of the first divers to enjoy swimming around this new edition to the barrier reef.

As David watched the end of the program, he realised something on that broadcast had triggered his subconscious. He clicked back to the beginning, where the crews had lit the bottom, without any interference. He watched it again, then again. David was already familiar with the surface geologic formations, but, ‘There should be some outcroppings that far out from the beach front,’ he thought, ‘some reef development at least.’ Slowly, frame by frame, he scanned the shots of the dark sand and corrugated ocean floor. ‘That’s not right.’ What he was seeing was not possible with what he already knew, or thought he knew.

It puzzled him. As a geologist, he had studied all of the coastal regions of Canada, at one time or another. What he saw should not exist. He walked to the back room where his field gear was stored, everything was sitting there, packed and ready. Time for a trip west, he decided. Maps. He’d have to go back to the Institute for the geological and topographical maps showing the detail of the coast around Vancouver Island.

He drove back to the Institute and once in the archive room, accessed the oversized steel drawers. Locating the maps he would need, he quickly made copies, rolled them up and carried them to his office. He e-mailed his colleagues that he would be gone for a week on research. From the pile tucked behind his office door, he grabbed four acrylic tubes with shoulder straps, slid the copies into the tubes, slung them over his shoulder and left. After returning home, David went on-line and booked an Air Canada flight for the next morning.

Yawning, he walked to the kitchen cupboard, brought down his bottle of brandy and poured a small glass. Carrying it to the bedroom, he undressed and crawled into bed, and sipped the brandy as he thought about his upcoming journey, wondering if he would be able to confirm what he suspected.

****

As David’s alarm clock buzzed hours later, Ted and Adam screamed past the New Castle, Pennsylvania exit. Sleepy Pittsburgh lay 60 miles to the south, but the sun was rising fast on their tail and Chicago loomed far in the distance.

~ 9 ~

Friday, August 8th Vancouver Island, BC

For most of the flight west across Canada, David Heath alternated between making a series of notes of things to accomplish and snoring.

He arrived in Vancouver at noon, rented a car, drove it to the Tsawassen terminal, up the ramp and onto the ferry. As they pulled away, David strolled to the upper deck. It was a warm day and the view across Georgia Strait was breathtaking. The coastal mountains had lined the edge of the mainland as far north as he could see; their siblings had formed the many small islands they would negotiate in the Strait – and the massive Vancouver Island, his destination. During the two hour journey, he watched the pods of Orca, the killer whales, as they weaved the surface on their way to the Pacific.


They docked at Duke Point, just outside of Nanaimo, the largest city on the eastern coast of the island. David drove off the ferry and headed north up the coast. Checking his map as he neared, he turned west at Parksville for the hour drive through the low mountains in the middle of the island. Nearing the summit, he slowed as the highway skimmed the edge of Cameron Lake and wound through the centre of Cathedral Grove. ‘What a spectacular place this is,’ he thought as he gaped at the giant trees.

David was nearing one of the longest, deep water inlets in Canada. From Barclay Sound on the Pacific coast, the Alberni Inlet had fingered its way through timber filled mountains for 80 kilometres before stopping.

Port Alberni was a beautiful little mill town, built at the tip of the inlet. As David crossed over the summit and dropped down into the town, he spotted a large post and beam structure: Maple Leaf Motel. ‘Good,’ he thought. ‘Good place to stop.’

The manager came out from the small adjoining office to the front desk where David was waiting. “Welcome to the Maple Leaf. My name’s Shayna, can I help you?”

He looked at her and thought, ‘What a beautiful woman, First Nation…maybe…Salish? Haida?’

“Yes, thank you,” he said. “I need a room for about four days preferably one with two beds.”

“Lets see… We have a nice one available – will your wife be joining you?”

“Oh no, no, I’m not married. I just need the space for some of my stuff.”

“Ah, that’s too bad, this is a great place to share with someone.” Shayna was thinking this man would be just right for her cousin, Wilma. As she watched him fill out the motel registry card she made a suggestion. “If you like old fashioned home cooking – you might want to try the New Moon Café, just two blocks north of here.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Oh - do you have internet access?”

“In each room, yes. Everybody wants it now.”

David thanked her and returned to his car. He drove to the end unit, parked in front of the door, unloaded quickly, double locked the door, undressed and laid down. It had been a long day.

****

As David nodded off, Adam and Ted were on the eastern edge of Omaha, Nebraska. They had stopped only for food, fuel and a few hours sleep. They had not yet reached the half-way mark of their journey.

~ 10 ~

Saturday, August 9th Tofino, BC

David woke with a start. It took him a moment to realise he was not home. He blinked at the sunbeams trying to stream past the heavy drapes. Working late into the night, he had gleaned as much information as possible from the online archives of Bedford Institute.

He got ready, loaded his gear back into the car, and drove out of the motel parking lot. Heading west again on Highway 4 he spotted the sign that said Tofino – Pacific Rim National Park – 120 kilometers/80 miles. The road was good, but it took two hours to drive as it curved and wound up, down and around the hills.

The mountains were fully vegetated, similar to the old Appalachian chain but much younger in geologic time. As he neared the coast, they became even lower, rolling, then suddenly – flat. Flat like the Florida everglades, a very marsh-like environment; even the air was heavier. As he entered the Park, the road ran parallel to the ocean, marshy low grasses on one side, small full evergreens on the other. He stopped to take some samples, then headed for Tofino Beach.

Just inside the main entrance was a long parking area that overlooked the water. David realised this was on a line to where they had sunk the ship – a couple of kilometres out, where the water deepened to around 30 meters. He parked his car, grabbed his backpack and made his way down. Tofino Beach was a natural wonder – almost 50 kilometres of perfect beach front, wide and sandy; he knew this was a popular site for wave riding.

As he turned to begin his walk, David saw a man coming towards him, apparently deep in thought. As he neared, David spoke, “Hi. Nice day on the beach, eh?”

The man looked up, smiled and said, “Just about perfect – I would say.”

David asked, “The water looks great. I wonder how cold it is?”

He surveyed the water and said, “Well, it never warms up too much – a lot of the regular surfers use wetsuits year round.” Turning and pointing more northerly, he continued, “Did you notice the boats out there? The trawlers and long-liners? I think they were part of that warship sinking we had a few days ago.”

“Yes, I caught the CBC special.” David extended his hand, “My name’s David, by the way. David Heath.”

The man took his hand. “Elliot Stevens, nice to meet you. Are you here on business or holiday?”

“Some of both. Staying in Port Alberni – just drove out here for the day.” The two men turned and walked down the beach together for a while. Elliot told David more about the area, some of the tourist information about the Park and the Tofino area. He told David that he’d grown up in Port Alberni, and came out here when ever he could.

When David mentioned he was staying at the Maple Leaf Motel, Elliot suggested that he try the New Moon Café, best in town.

Laughing, he said, “You’re the second person to tell me that. Perhaps I will.” As they reached the area where Elliot had parked, they again shook hands, both pleased to have met. David watched him drive off. ‘Nice man,’ he thought.

He spent the rest of the day walking the beach, making notes of the land formations and the gentle slope rise of the hills. Turning away from the piercing sunset, he drove back to the motel in Port Alberni, unloaded his gear, took a quick shower, and decided to try out the New Moon Café.

Following the instructions of the ‘Please Sit Anywhere’ sign, David walked over to a small table with two chairs by the front window. Most of the tables were filled with customers, the waitresses looked busy. He glanced at the menu but the daily special offered by his waitress sounded just right. Roast turkey dinner with all the trimmings. As he waited, he sipped on fresh hot coffee and watched the last flaming streaks of daylight dance off the snowy peak of Mount Arrowsmith.

When his dinner arrived, it smelled delicious and it was. He ate every morsel on the plate, and wiped the last bit of gravy with his roll. Before he finished, he ordered a piece of raspberry pie. As he began eating, Wilma came out from the back office area to check on her patrons. Her lead waitress, Debbie, walked over. “Another busy night. Everything going smooth?” Debbie answered yes, then nodded towards David. “He’s hungry,” she said. Wilma looked at the customer. Not one of her regulars. Nice looking fellow.

He finally finished, picked up the bill and walked towards the front. Wilma smiled at him as he approached the cash register.

“Hi,” she said. “How was your meal?”

He handed her a twenty, “It was fabulous, thank you. You’re open for breakfast too, yes?”

She laughed and handed him his change, which he put back on the table for a tip. He waved to them on the way out. “I think we just pleased a hungry man.” Debbie agreed with her boss.

David walked back to the motel, totally satisfied. Although it was still early, once in his room he thought ‘to hell with work’, turned out the lights, fell on the bed and was asleep.

****

It was near dark when they pulled into the McDonalds in Sheridan, Wyoming. After dropping through Omaha and turning west at Lincoln, Ted and Adam had endured the long hours across four hundred straight flat miles of Nebraska before crossing over into Wyoming. Turning right at Cheyenne, the gently rolling hills that underlay Interstate 25 had rocked them northward. After finishing their McDinner, they topped up the gas tanks and checked the tires. In thirty miles they would cross onto the Crow Reservation in southern Montana. Neither of them were particularly concerned with ghosts or spirits, but they would be travelling near the Battlefield of the Little Bighorn in the dead of night, and neither of them liked surprises.

As the sun rose, Ted and Adam pulled into a rest area near Couer d’Alene, Idaho. They had safely passed the night, turned west at Billings and crossed 500 miles of Montana before reaching the Idaho border. They were in the narrow part of the Rocky Mountains, and soon they would drop down the west side to cross the plains of Washington State, destination Seattle. For a while, though, much needed sleep.

~ 11 ~

Sunday, August 10th Port Alberni, BC

In the morning, David committed himself to his maps. After studying the formations around the island, especially along the west coast, he reviewed the ocean bed sonar mapping. Then came the cross-comparison of the shoreline, the marshlands, the relationships of each to the mountains and valleys interwoven, and then back to the Tofino area. He repeated the same process – only from a larger perspective; from that area to Nanaimo, then south to Ladysmith, then to Duncan and down to Victoria. Finally, he focused on Courtenay, and Campbell River, then up to the northern tip, near Port Hardy and over to Winter Harbour.

He ran the preliminary tests of the soil samples taken the day before from the marshlands near Tofino; by noon he was able to compare the results with his map analysis. The findings stopped him cold. After confirming everything, he ran a second series of tests. If those proved out, and this was as big as the numbers said it would be, there should be soil evidence as far inland as there in Port Alberni. He grabbed the map that showed the closest view of the Alberni Valley. By carefully measuring, adding and subtracting tracts and hectares, he found a likely spot. “There. There it is.” He tapped on the map. “Right there on the other side of Cherry Creek – next to the First Nation Reserve.”
Grabbing some of his field gear, David headed for the car. Using the city street map from the drawer in the room, he drove through the high side of town, onto the slope above the residential area of Port Alberni. One of the roads led him around the mountain and down to Cherry Creek. He parked the car on the side of the road, and crossed over into a large weeded field. After climbing up a bit, a small service area with a diesel fuel pump and shed came into view. Not knowing who owned the land, he walked and took samples as much as he dared, sketched diagrams that positioned the surrounding hills, and then got the hell out of there.

Back in his motel room, David ran the analysis of the samples. Confirmed. Holy shit! David reached for his notebook, connected quickly, and sent off an e-mail to a petrochemical engineer friend and colleague. He had a pizza delivered for an early supper and researched online while waiting for his answer.

****

Ted and Adam jumped on I-405 to skirt past Seattle, and merged into the early evening bumper to bumper traffic on Interstate 5 heading north to the Canadian border. Realising they would miss the last ferry to the island, the travellers slowed their pace.

Hours later, after crossing through customs at Blaine, Washington, Ted and Adam entered Canada and headed north towards the City of Vancouver.

When they arrived at the ferry terminal, they parked to catch a few hours of welcome sleep. They would board the first ferry of the morning scheduled for Swartz Bay, near the southern end of the island. Before he fell asleep, Ted checked his odometer. They’d driven 3,278 miles in less than four days. He flipped the readout to Metric: 5,275 kilometres. No wonder he felt tired.

~ 12 ~

Monday, August 11th Port Alberni, BC

The first thing David did was check his e-mail. The response was finally there and it confirmed what he already knew to be true. He decided to risk another trip out to the site. Parking a little further down this time, he noticed a Coastal Estates Realty sign laying nearby, made note of the name and number, got back in his car and drove to the real estate office.

The lady in the office blinked at him from across the counter. “Is that really the property you want? There are better views of the mountains and the Alberni Inlet near there. Would you like to see those properties?”

“I want to build a retirement cottage, and that parcel is the one that suits me perfectly.”

“As you wish…” She handed him the printout of the property listing. She couldn’t fathom why this guy would choose this piece that had nothing going for it – except the low price, of course.

David thanked her for the information and said he would be back later. He drove back to the motel, checked and re-checked his analysis and findings, and then called his bank in Nova Scotia to arrange a large transfer of funds.

The bell over the door of the New Moon Café tinkled as David entered. He headed for his table, ordered the fish and chips, and began to review his journal entries. When his lunch arrived, he pushed the open journal out of the way – then got up to go wash his hands.

Wilma had been observing David from the kitchen doorway. As soon as he walked towards the washroom, she took a fresh coffee pot over to the table and refilled his cup slowly, quickly scanning his journal entries. When David reappeared, she turned and smiled at him as she walked past, “Hi, there – glad you came back. Should I save you some pie?” He smiled and declined.

He spent the next hour at the café to give his bank time to make the necessary funds transfer, then paid the bill, stopped at the local bank, and drove to the Realty office to make the purchase.

On the off-chance David would come back, the Realtor had contacted the seller – who immediately agreed to any sale she could negotiate. She was stunned when he handed her a certified check for the full asking price, signed some documents and left. Because he was so focused on the events of the day, David didn’t see the white Chevy that had followed him back out to the site, nor did he see the person watching as he took more samples. What he did see, however, pleased him. Delighted with his latest gathering of rocks and dirt, he drove back to the Maple Leaf Motel to begin packing.

~ 13 ~

Tuesday, August 12th

On his flight back to Nova Scotia, David watched the flat screen attached to the seat-back. The CBC announcer was describing the flurry of activities and emergency Cabinet meetings taking place in Ottawa; the Premier of Saskatchewan had been seen entering the Prime Minister’s Parliamentary Office.

There had been some rumblings about Saskatchewan becoming a new state but David had shrugged them off. Now this late breaking story made them plausible. Wondering what it would be like if his beloved Nova Scotia became a state, he spent the next hour imagining hordes of people migrating up the Atlantic Coast. It also occurred to him that if all of Canada went south, the migration to British Columbia would be even bigger. He made the decision to keep his discovery secret for now, and if necessary, for a long time to come.

~ 14 ~

Wednesday, August 13th Port Alberni, BC

Wilma rolled her eyes as she listened to her cousin. Shayna had called her last week to tell her about the geologist that had checked in at the Maple Leaf. Now that he was gone, she wanted to know if anything happened between them. ‘Shayna needs a hobby,’ Wilma thought.

At home two nights ago, however, Wilma’s internet searches had revealed plenty: Dr. David Heath, graduate of Dalhousie, post-Doctorate work with the University of Toronto. Governor General’s Award for contributions to Canada through work with sonar, radar, sound-mapping. Many articles published in geologic and nature magazines, guest lecturer at colleges and universities in Canada, U.S. and the U.K. Speciality expertise: coastal mapping, identification of ocean floor formations, and off-shore sedimentary basins for potential petrochemical deposits.

With this information, she had watched David more closely and realised the significance of his journal entries as she read them that day in the Café. He didn’t see her following him out to the old Taylor place. And, just like that, he had bought the land.

“Nothing happened, Shayna. And I need to get these done, okay? Can I call you later?” She hung up the phone, and worked to finish the never ending tax reports that were due in two days.

Wilma loved the New Moon. She had owned it for several years, and it was doing well. After graduating from the University over on the mainland, she had returned to Port Alberni and landed a job at the café doing the books. Later, with the help of a small business grant from the Federal Aboriginal Opportunities program, she became the new and very proud owner.

Even Hank MacDougall came in a few times a week, usually to meet Elliot Stevens. Wilma knew them back in her college days, and liked it when they dropped in for coffee and a piece of pie. She always paid attention to their conversations. Hank had been spending more and more time building his island holdings. Over the years, she had watched the MacDougall empire grow, listened to the town gossip, read the newspaper reports and monitored the MacDougall website.

At the front counter, Wilma folded and stuffed the forms into the envelope. Sighing, she realised Shayna meant well, it had been over two years since there had been any real passion in her life. As she was thinking about that intense and far too brief affair – the very man that had rocked her world, walked into the café. Flashing his boyish handsome grin, Adam Brooks looked at her and said, “Hi lover.”

Wilma turned to her waitress and said, “You handle things for a while.” Smiling at Adam, she headed for her office, motioned for him to follow her. As soon as they were both within the private room, Wilma closed and locked the door.

~ 15 ~

Friday, August 15th Vancouver, BC

Helen Murphy, Western Bureau Chief of the CBC watched the telecast from her Vancouver office. At noon, she had been given advance notice of a big story coming out of their Regina facility, and had directed her camera crews to oversee a clean patch back to CBC headquarters in Toronto.

****

CBC Breaking News, Live from Regina.

We are interrupting your local news and programming to bring you a CBC news special – live from Brian Edwards, in Regina who is in the foyer of the Saskatchewan Legislative Assembly – over to you, Brian.

The Legislature – in emergency session – here – just minutes ago, announced that a Referendum would be held on October 1st – in less than 6 weeks time – to vote for or against the Province leaving Canada and becoming the 51st state of the United States.

We don’t have many details yet, or how this would work, but we expect a statement from Ottawa some time in the next short while – we are all in a state of shock out here.

She was fixated, ‘Is this really happening?’ Moving closer to the monitor high on her wall, she watched as Brian Edwards tried to get what information he could. They had all heard the rumours, but they were only that. She walked back to her desk, sat down and began to make notes for distribution:

1. Cancel all vacations
2. Authorise full overtime budget for necessary staff
3. Go to Election Readiness
4. Notify each office – all Stringers on standby
5. Schedule private video conference with Toronto to review budget, obtain effort level approval

Helen looked back at the monitor, ‘Would they really vote Yes?’ Brian was still waiting for the Saskatchewan Premier to come to the podium. She thought about the stories that had come out of that Province over the last few years. They each had shown increasing devastation: cattle losses, grasshopper swarms, no rain, no relief, farm auctions, dust storms. ‘Oh, those poor people,’ she thought. ‘And poor Canada.’ Canada?

She walked quickly over to close her office door. From her bag she pulled out a small book and flipped to a seldom used but vital page, picked up the phone and dialled the number from the book. After the second ring, she left the message, “This is Helen Murphy. Please return my call.” and hung up.

Within the hour she would use one of the few remaining favours she had with this contact.

~ 16 ~

Friday, August 15th Port Alberni, BC

Once Ted Underwood and Adam Brooks had arrived in Victoria, and settled in, Ted told Adam that he would not be needed for a few days - if there was anything Adam wanted to do, or anyone he wanted to see, now was the time to do it. Adam’s grin told Ted exactly where he was headed: the New Moon Café. Promising to keep in touch, Adam headed north from Victoria towards Port Alberni, towards that unbelievable woman – Wilma Thorn.

For two days they enjoyed each other, stopping only for sleep and sustenance. Wilma was headed to the kitchen to fix them something – anything – they were starved – when she clicked on the counter-top television set to catch the news.

“Adam,” – she yelled – “turn on the TV.”

He clicked the bedroom set on as she walked back in. They sat on the edge of the bed and watched. Wilma was shocked at what she heard. She looked over at him. “This is hard to believe. This is bad…and I think it will get worse.” Adam agreed, but then looked off elsewhere. ‘He didn’t want me to see his face,’ she thought. ‘He knows something.’

She knew that he would say no more about the news broadcast, or what he may or may not know. He never volunteered anything about himself or what he did.

She kissed him, and said she would be right back. She grabbed her slippers, pulled on her robe and went out to the desk near the dining room to check for more news online – nothing. She checked her e-mail. A new letter from her brother that lived on the outskirts of Regina. He wrote to tell her that some of the Elders were predicting the fall of Canada. She’d heard some of the Elders in Port Alberni say the same thing recently. She hadn’t given it much thought at the time, but then again, she hadn’t forgotten it either.

~ 17 ~

Saturday, August 16th Port Alberni, BC

There were a number of things eating at Wilma. She had known for some time there was more going on in this sleepy Alberni Valley then met the eye; she felt in her bones that she was close to knowing what it all meant. Now, she wondered if Adam was a part of it. If he was, she knew how to find out.

Late morning, as they were enjoying a light breakfast, Wilma began to casually tell him about Dr. David Heath. She told him about the land that David had bought and what David thought was under that land. He quietly listened to the story, not bothering to ask how she came to know these things. Adam already knew that Wilma would not tell him how she knew.

When she finished her story, he began to tidy up the kitchen a bit, then casually mentioned he had to run a few errands. She said sure, she would wait for him to return. He left quickly; she knew he would.

Once in his vehicle, Adam reached Ted on the encrypted line: “Ted – listen up. Wilma Thorn just told me about a Dr. David Heath – Geologist with the Bedford Institute in Nova Scotia. Apparently there is some kind of formation of extreme interest out here. He bought a section of land, and made it happen in a day. Any instructions?”

Ted responded: “Adam, make sure Wilma does not relay this information to anyone else. Keep her occupied. While you are with her, learn as much about this that she may know. Try to keep her from finding out our interest in it.”

Yeah right, Adam thought.

~ 18 ~

Saturday, August 16th Dartmouth, NS

David was at home preparing full documentation of the soil samples he had brought back from Port Alberni. The television was on in the other room but he barely heard it. CBC and CTV had been providing continuous coverage about the impending collapse of the Saskatchewan Parliament. He glanced up as they switched to interviews with farmers. Many of the them thought they would be saved by the U.S. farm subsidy program. They talked about not having to win lotteries for eastern hay to feed their cattle. David returned to his work as the political pundits began to wail doomsday scenarios; the politicians had made themselves scarce, no one was speaking on behalf of the government.

When it switched to a local update from Halifax, he stopped typing and went in to listen. It was reported that indications were appearing that Nova Scotia was beginning negotiations to leave Canada and become a U.S. State. Local experts debated that becoming a State would improve the lot of the fishing industry. The premise put forward was that the U.S. would impose a 500 mile limit, or any limit it deemed necessary, to stop the European and Asian floating Fish Factories. Their dragnet fishing scooped everything in its path, preventing any possible recovery of the fish stocks in the whole of Atlantic Canada.

He was watching so intently, it took David a while to realise his phone was ringing. When he picked it up, a man named Ted Underwood was on the other end of the line. He introduced himself and said that he knew of David and knew of his findings in Port Alberni. This Ted fellow also said that he was working with the British Columbia government, gave his assurances as to the legitimacy of his need to speak with David at the earliest possible convenience. Finally, David agreed.

Ted suggested they meet anywhere and under any terms that were satisfactory to him. David decided they would meet the next morning at the Bedford Institute, believing he would hold the upper hand if he had to have this guy removed from the facility. Ted said he would fly east and would be there by noon. David hung up the phone: ‘What in the hell is this, now?’

~ 19 ~

Sunday, August 17th Dartmouth, NS

At the Institute, David told the security guard that he was expecting a visitor, and asked how many officers were working that day.

“Are you expecting any trouble, Dr. Heath?”

“Not necessarily, but if someone could wander by the cafeteria a bit, that would be fine too.” He told the guard that he was reassured by the knowledge of who was on duty and where they would be.

Ted arrived in a rental car, parked in the visitor’s area, entered the front door and was greeted by the security guard. David came out to the reception area and Ted immediately extended his hand.

“Thank you, Dr. Heath, for seeing me on such short notice. I’ll make this as brief as possible.”

David suggested they use the lunch room. It was closed on Sunday but there were vending machines. “That would be fine,” said Ted, “I could use a coffee.”

They sat at one of the long row tables, near the centre of the room. Given the enormity of David’s discovery, before flying east, Ted had secured approval from Hank and Gloria to tell David everything, which he did, in a very precise manner. When he finished, he looked at David and said:

“I have been authorised to invite you to become a part of this. Your contribution and efforts would play an integral part in carrying out the Plan.”

David was stunned. From what Ted had revealed to him, he knew they were powerful enough, in their own right, to succeed. He also knew that it would be extraordinary – beyond his imagination – to be involved in such a daring plan. He wanted in. David stood, extended his hand to Ted and agreed.

“Excellent. Our team back in BC is very anxious to hear from me, and I have very good news to present to them. Thank you, Dr. Heath, and welcome aboard.”

After leaving the Institute, Ted called Hank MacDougall on his cell phone. Without being descriptive, he simply told him that everything was go. As he flew out of Halifax on his way to Victoria, Ted could not believe their good fortune. One of the biggest difficulties they were facing, with the Plan, may have just been resolved.

After the meeting, and before leaving the Institute, David wrote out his letter of resignation to the Chairman of the Institute, citing personal reasons and that he was now retired. He wrote e-mails to his closest associates, describing the same thing. He found a box, filled it with personal items from his desk, grabbed the picture of the luminous fish from the wall, went to the security reception area, signed himself out, and left.

Before the next week passed, Dr. David Heath removed himself from academia and professional life in his beloved Nova Scotia. He quickly and quietly closed down and sold his Dartmouth cottage and his car, and transferred all his liquid assets to the Bank of Vancouver Island.

On the way to the airport, he paused to take a last look at Halifax Harbour. David loved the magnificent deep water port. It came to fame over two world wars as one of the greatest assets that the free world had. Supplies had been shipped to England and the Allied European forces during the wars; it had been the scene of some of the greatest merchant marine convoys of all time. He hoped the Americans would treat it well.

~ 20 ~

Monday, August 18th Port Alberni, BC

At the New Moon Café, everyone was watching the television. Debbie had brought out the small set from the back and plugged it in for the regulars to catch any breaking news. “Good idea,” Wilma told her new assistant manager. Everyone was poised for the pre-announced special about to begin.

This is a CBC News Special Update on the reaction to the announcement by the Saskatchewan Government on the Referendum to join the United States. We take you now to the British Columbia Legislature in Victoria, where we are waiting for the Premier.

The view switched to the media room: the podium with the seal of the Province on its front, flags of Canada and British Columbia flanked its rear. Microphones had been taped, wired, and rigged to the podium goose-neck; the room packed with reporters. As the camera panned to the side entrance, Jack Jordan, Premier of British Columbia, walked through and stepped up.

Good morning, Ladies and Gentlemen. As you all know by now, the country is in a high state of concern over the Referendum announced by Saskatchewan. My purpose in speaking out today is to assure my fellow British Columbians that we have very firm plans in place and a strong resolve to ride this unprecedented event through to its conclusion, with calm and deliberate actions, to ensure the best outcome for the people of British Columbia.

In the event of a “Yes” vote, we will be prepared to receive any and all peoples of Saskatchewan should they decide to relocate. We are here to help our neighbours to the east in this time of turmoil and confusion.

Now I want to focus on British Columbia, and the exciting things that will occur in the weeks and months to come.

We were elected to revitalise British Columbia in all areas of our economy and social structure with specific efforts in health, education, and human resources. We have moved mountains of progress in these areas – and we will continue to move mountains of progress in the future. In light of the recent events, I am pleased to announce an acceleration to some of those plans for British Columbia.

I am happy to announce new programs and funding for the high technology industry that triples our previous commitment. Beginning immediately, Vancouver Island becomes our test-lab for radical new concepts in the way that we manage and move information Additionally, budgets were increased for the communications infrastructure on the mainland, which will provide high speed and high capacity broadband facilities universally, from the coast to the plains in the east and all points north and south.

As you know, the three new energy production plants on Vancouver Island came online last year. Today, I am pleased to announce construction will begin on four more plants to be located in central and northern British Columbia. This will allow us to continue to meet the needs of all our people as we grow into the future.

In conclusion, I want British Columbians to feel secure and confident that we, their government and elected officials, are going forward with great pride and full confidence to secure a lasting and prosperous future for all people in our Province and for our Canada.

Jack Jordan paused, smiled, then thanked the audience and press in attendance. He stepped off the podium and exited quickly.

Well, there you have the announcements of the Premier. Let’s go now to our CBC correspondents in the east and in the Maritimes for other Provincial reactions….’

Wilma quickly left the dining area, went into her office and closed the door. ‘They knew. There was no panic there – there was no hesitation in Jordan – these guys have this all figured out.’ Wilma reflected on the changes that had taken place over the last few years, and suddenly it all made perfect sense. She braced against her desk, reeling from the impact of the clarity. ‘There is a plan in action and whoever these Planners are – they knew exactly what they were doing, and now, so do I.’

She sat down in her chair. Sadly, she realised her error in thinking Adam had come back for her. ‘That may be part of it’, she admitted to herself, ‘but I know he’s in the middle of this. And that means Ted Underwood is here too.’ Wilma began her own plan.

~ 21 ~

Monday, August 18th Port Alberni, BC

Wilma asked Debbie to take over for a little while, and went back to her house hoping Adam was still around. When she arrived, she found him out back, enjoying the sun. She walked up and placed her shadow over him.

Adam opened his eyes: “Hi lover – what’s up?”

She moved so the sun would be back in his eyes. “Listen Adam, I figured out this plan of yours. I know what you and Ted are doing. I know about the plan, and I know you two are hooked up with the Planners.”

Wilma saw his reaction. He hadn’t been ready for this, his expression confirmed she was on the right track.

“I want to meet with Underwood – now. If you can’t make that happen, I’ll blow this whole thing wide open – starting with the Plan and ending with the adventures of Dr. David Heath.”

Adam knew this was trouble. “Okay. Relax. Let me contact Ted to arrange a meeting. I’ll be back soon.” Adam headed for the house, went through the back door, grabbed a shirt, then out the front to his car and drove away.

‘Man,’ he thought, ‘how the hell did she figure it out?’ He drove to a secluded area to decide how to phrase this to Ted. Finally, he picked up the phone from the centre console arm rest, and punched the embedded memory code for the number. After four beeps, Ted picked up. “Hi, Adam.”

Adam took a deep breath and began. “Okay, I just finished a conversation with Wilma. She said she’s put everything together. Yes, the Plan. From what I can tell, she has. She wants to meet with you and if you refuse she’ll blow the whole thing wide open. She’s pretty intense about this, Ted.”

“Okay, Adam. I’ll be back on the island in a few hours. Arrange a meeting for tonight – maybe the New Moon Café after it’s closed. Get her comfort level up, tell her I’ll meet her wherever and whenever she wants it to happen. Sooner the better from our perspective.”

“Will do. She’ll want it to be tonight. I’ll let her know it’s a go.” He hung up the phone, drove back to the house and told Wilma that Ted was on his way. They spent the rest of the day together, but very delicately.

Just before ten that night, after the last customer left, Wilma placed the closed sign on the door, turned off most of the lights, and pulled the drapes across the front windows. She heard the two cars, those two twin Fords, pull up in front of the Café, the footsteps and the knock. She unlocked and opened the front door.

Ted smiled at her, she smiled back. Wilma had met him, very briefly and casually, during the last election campaign – at a fund raising event.

“Hello, Wilma. We have a lot to discuss. I appreciate your suggesting this meeting, I want you to know that it’s important for both of us. I could sure use a cup of coffee, would that be alright?”

She sat them down at a table in the back, and brought out a fresh pot. As Ted poured himself a cup, Wilma began. She told him what she knew, what she’d seen happen over the last five years, and what it meant. He sipped on his coffee as he listened to her. He was pouring his second cup as she finished. ‘We need her on our side,’ Ted thought.

He asked, “What do you want?”

Her words came easier than she thought they would.

“We want to be part of this. First Nations. This time we are inside the circle. Not outside looking in – watching other people make decisions for us.”

He agreed immediately.

Wilma realised Ted must have pre-guessed her demand and was ready with an answer. She grinned at him and said, “Good. Now, how can we help?”

It was decided that Wilma would meet the others as soon as it could be arranged – and that she should be ready to present the First Nations position, of their role in the Plan. Ted felt lucky that he had correctly guessed what her demands may include, and was glad he was right. Before coming that night, he had quickly discussed the situation with the others. They were ready to bring her in – they were ready for all of them – and that it was, indeed, time to do it right.

Wilma watched Ted drive away, with Adam leaving behind him. Feeling more alive than she ever had, she knew there was little time to put this together before meeting the Planners. All of her resources would be needed for this one. She called her grandfather and asked him if she could come over in the morning for a game of Chess.

~ 22 ~

Tuesday, August 19th Port Alberni, BC

Wilma knew he was an early riser so her alarm was set for six, but she didn’t need it. Well before dawn she was awake, reviewing everything that had happened.

She got out of bed to make breakfast and was thinking about how much was riding on this, on her, when she realised she was looking in the linen closet for the jar of peanut-butter. Laughing at herself, she shook it off and knew the only way this would work would be the same way that life works: one thing at a time, stay focused on what you’re doing, remembering the big picture and being grateful for the day. This philosophy had served her well, she just needed to remember it.

Finally admitting she wouldn’t be able to eat this early anyway, she pulled on her jeans and tucked in her shirt on the way outside. She jumped into her white Chevy, backed it out of the drive and steered towards her grandfather’s place on the far side of the Reserve. Parking in the yard, Wilma didn’t bother with the door; she knew he’d be sitting out back. He had the chess board set up on the low table under the Arbutus tree, and was waiting there for her, with two cups of steaming coffee. She loved him so. It was his idea that she attend UBC, and he was the one that had researched online for the grant she’d used to buy the New Moon. For an old man, she smiled to herself, he sure has mastered the internet. And chess.

She kissed his forehead and sat down on the lawn chair in front of the white pieces. He always played the black pieces. They were the ones of defence. White attacks, black defends. ‘At least,’ she thought, ‘that’s the way Chess starts.’ She knew it could quickly change if White missteps and gives Black the opportunity to become the attacker. She reached to play her usual first move. White King’s Pawn to K4. Her grandfather closed his eyes and leaned back to let the morning sun wash over his face. Slowly he opened his eyes, looked at her, and said:

“If White always makes the same move, what’s the point of changing things?”

He stood, picked up his coffee and walked inside.

Wilma sat there stunned. Realising that he already knew about the Plan, she burst out laughing. She grabbed her cup and followed him in.

Harry Thorn watched his granddaughter as she came through the door. When she finally sat down, Harry told her that the Plan is to make Vancouver Island a separate country, to keep it out of the United States, “ but on friendly terms, of course.”

This caught Wilma completely by surprise and Wilma rarely got caught. She thought the Plan was for ALL of British Columbia to become a new country.

“No. Too many resources in the north-east part of the province. The U.S. covets the petrochemicals and the hydro systems.”

She thought about the 95% US-owned gas delivery systems networked across the entire Province; she’d watched as the Canadian companies had been purchased, or acquired through controlling interest stock exchanges. “You’re right,” she said, “they wouldn’t give it up.”

“But,” he added, “Americans don’t really know about this place – the island – and what they do know of it, they’ll be willing to let go – in trade for the mainland. If the States did know what is really here, the Planners would never be able to pull this off. I thought everything was going to fall to hell when that geologist from Nova Scotia showed up. Now, my sources aren’t able to pick up anything further on him.”

She told her grandfather, in complete detail, everything she knew about David. Harry already knew much of it, but when she told her grandfather that she had told Adam about Dr. Heath and the discovery, he was absolutely thrilled.

“Good!” he shouted. “The Planners got to him then. So either he and his knowledge are on their side, or he is no longer a threat to them. Either way, there is still hope for us.” He continued excitedly, “What the Planners may not know though, or maybe they do, is that we wont agree to this unless the First Nations become an active part of the new country. They need what we bring to the table. We all need this, Wilma – all of us.”

She told him that she was to meet with the Planners soon and everything needed to be worked out by then. He told her that the announcement of Vancouver Island becoming a separate country probably would not occur until right before the Province falls, so they should have enough time to prepare. He had already spoken online, through e-mail and in chat, with most of the elders on the island. Some good ideas had been offered about self sufficiency, if they were lucky enough to see the end of the welfare state. They absolutely did not want to be part of the American Bureau of Indian Affairs Reservation system. They would rather be here, cut loose on their own and fail, or even die – than to ever live again on someone else’s terms. It was all they had ever wanted.

Wilma and her grandfather filled the day discussing the things that would happen when the Plan became public; they spent the night developing scenarios and possibilities, strategies and tactics. They knew what was at stake. There was a country to build.

SECTION TWO

“Tell me the story again, daddy, please?”

“Once upon a time there was a little mouse. He lived in a pen with a great big elephant. This was a smart little mouse – he knew there would be lots and lots of food because the elephant was always spilling over his great big feed bucket.

The little mouse knew that he would be warm – why, he could just snuggle up to the big beast and be ohhh so very cosy.

But the little mouse had to be careful, eh? If the elephant rolled over, he would be squished flat. It was hard for the little mouse to sleep with one eye open all the time…”

~ 23 ~

Wednesday, August 20th Ottawa, Canada

CBC Nightly News Hour

As part of our continuing coverage on the looming Saskatchewan Referendum, let’s review where we are in this fast moving story. To bring you up to date on the scene there in Saskatchewan, we switch now to Senior Correspondent, Brian Edwards, in Regina.

With the beating sun in his face, he began.

Here in the heartland of Canada, every conceivable emotion has been expressed during this last week, from elation – to confusion – to down right anger on the referendum question. I am standing out in front of a popular local super market, and I’ve asked a few people to express their comments. Our first is a teacher and long time resident.

Brian extended the microphone to her.

Well, I don’t know about these other folks – but I have family in Alberta and in Manitoba, and we don’t know what to do. Do we stay here and possibly become Americans? Or do we move east and hope everything works out? Are we going to be immigrants in our own country? Are my relatives and family foreigners now? I don’t know what to do, and I don’t know which way to vote. I don’t even know if I will vote.

As she turned and walked off, the next person to be interviewed stepped up to the microphone. He had waited an hour to have his say.

I sell farm equipment near Estavan – down near the border. I think it’s great. We’ve been starving from no crops – dying of the heat – and parched from no rain – and we’ve got a plague of grasshoppers now. There’s no help that’s going to come from Ottawa, and the other Provinces are in the same boat. The sooner we can tie ourselves to the U.S. economy and their farming program, the better it will be for everybody. I’ll vote yes to leave Canada.

Brian thanked him and turned to face the camera.

Around the city, U.S. Flags are popping up everywhere. Some are being torn down at night – only to be replaced the next day. Every indication points to a close vote; the rural areas are heavily in favour of joining the US, the cities are more evenly divided. The media outlets, here in Regina and in the smaller towns are staying pretty much neutral – while down in Montana, all the newsprint, radio and TV coverage has been positive and upbeat. They seem to all be welcoming the people, with open arms and a genuine sense of kinship for their neighbours to the north. That expression of friendship can be felt here and may be starting to sway some of the voters.

That’s our coverage for now from Saskatchewan – please be sure and watch our follow up broadcasts as well as our upcoming CBC Special, “The American Option”.

****

In Ottawa, at his official residence on Sussex Drive, the Prime Minister of Canada clicked off the television and thought about the Premier of Saskatchewan: ‘What could Balderson have done? What solutions had evaded him? None.’

‘I should have seen a Referendum coming this soon,’ the PM thought. ‘This had to have been in the works for some time. My sources aren’t as good as they think they are if Balderson was able to keep the details of this secret.’ He scribbled a note to have a conversation with those sources.

The leader of Canada walked heavily over to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a short glass of brandy. Returning to his chair, he leaned back and swivelled to look through the window. Darkness was beginning to cover the gardens and move towards the Ottawa River that wound below them. ‘If I had just offered more help,’ he thought.

No. He knew there was no more to offer. There wasn’t enough money to do what needed doing. A rescue operation of that magnitude would cost tens of billions. Even if he had the money, he knew, the precedent that action would set could bankrupt Canada with the next provincial disaster.

But he also knew what not helping meant. He gazed at the blank television. “To hell with the precedent. If I had the resources, they would have been sent. Then I would be known as the Leader that bankrupted Canada, instead of her last Leader.” He lifted the glass of brandy in toast to all that was, and downed the remaining inch. “Cheers.”

~ 24 ~

Two nations colonised Canada during the 17th century, setting the stage for the perpetual war between them. After the English beat the French on the Plains of Abraham in 1759, the victors did a strange thing. They gave back to the French most of what the French had been fighting for: their land, which became the Province of Quebec; their language – which would, much later, become the other official language of Canada; and their culture, which flourished.

For two hundred years, traditional political parties battled to gain and retain power in Quebec City. But in the 1970’s, a new party emerged. Its mandate was to separate from Canada. Even though they stated clearly their desire for independence, the legislators did not want the rest of the world to see them as isolationists; they strove to maintain visibility, both at home and abroad. Trade consulates were established in many of the world’s capital cities as well as a number of strategic consulates in the influential centres of commerce, finance and trade.

The Consulates in New York City and Washington, D.C. were twin operations working together for one unified mission: keep Quebec on the U.S. radar screen.

Recently, the staff of both consulates had focused on supporting the new delegations from Quebec City that had arrived when the earliest rumours about Saskatchewan had surfaced. Schedules became even more hectic as the meetings were stepped up with various members of Congress and key people in the Democratic and Republican National Committees.

Exactly one hour after the Saskatchewan Referendum was announced, without needing to be told, all consulate staff members scrambled to prepare for the inevitable and immediate arrival of substantial Quebec delegations. They knew what was to come.

~ 25 ~

Thursday, August 21st Victoria, BC

Gloria wondered why Ted was so quiet that morning. ‘Maybe he’s still worried about Wilma’s ability to blow the lid off everything.’ she thought. He had contacted them immediately after Wilma demanded to meet with him, and had later reported that things had been diffused. ‘Even still,’ Gloria knew, ‘the potential remains.’ She carried a tray of bagels and a carafe of hot coffee into the living area where Hank and Elliot sat discussing recent events. Quiet Ted was standing by the windows watching the boats in the harbour below. She sat the tray down in front of the two men. “I hope we can reach an understanding with Miss Thorn,” she said, “to avoid our plans ending before they have a chance to begin.”

Elliot agreed, “I’m sure it will work out fine, as long as you don’t pounce when she first walks through the door.” Laughing, Gloria promised to try and not pounce. “But,” she added, “I would like to be the one to decide if she’ll be part of this – and we may not reveal everything to her right away. Let’s see how she reacts to our idea. If she can handle what’s about to be given her, she may prove to be a valuable member of our team.” They agreed that Gloria would be the one to decide, as if it could have been any other way. She looked over at Ted to see why he was laughing.

At the entrance, David rang the intercom to Gloria’s suite. As he rode the elevator to the top floor, he thought, ‘Man, these folks better have deep pockets.’ Over the last week, at Ted’s instructions, he’d put together the framework – the lists of equipment needed to develop the site for drilling, extraction and processing. He’d brought with him the map-tubes and a briefcase overstuffed with technical documentation and shopping lists with cost projections.

Getting off the elevator, he saw Ted and walked down the hall to the penthouse suite. Setting his baggage down, he turned and was surprised and pleased to see Elliot Stevens. He remembered meeting him on the beach outside of Tofino. ‘Was that just two weeks ago?’ he wondered.

Elliot greeted David warmly. “Hey, good to see you again. I was astonished to learn it was you that had bought the old Taylor place.” He introduced David to Hank and Gloria, and offered him a cup of coffee.

Hank started the meeting: “Before we hear what you have, David, I first want to tell you that Elliot and I have formed a joint partnership to fund the initial development of the site. After small scale production has begun, or after the new government is formed, which ever comes first, the larger extraction process will be funded and developed. I understand that there should be enough for the island’s needs, and enough left over for export. Do you have any figures yet about potential output?”

David told them while it wasn’t possible to calculate the total potential, his initial research indicated that, at minimum, several full scale extraction operations could function for at least one hundred years.

Gloria should have been more prepared. She was sipping her coffee when David revealed the information; she choked and spilled it down her blouse, and the rug, and the sleeve of Hank’s shirt. She quickly excused herself, got a damp towel for Hank, and slipped into her bedroom to change.

David was going over the technical details of the requirements when she returned. She looked sideways at Ted, who was still watching the harbour. ‘At least he’s not laughing this time.’ Actually, Ted was.

Continuing with his report, David outlined his notes from the Cherry Creek site, and how he proposed to begin the drilling process. He stopped when the intercom buzzed, signalling the arrival of Wilma Thorn.

Ted met her at the elevator and escorted her to the penthouse. As Wilma came into the room, Gloria stood back, evaluating every nuance of this attractive woman. Wilma, too, had all her senses on high: She checked her surprise at learning who the “Planners” were.
She started with David. “Oh, hello – I remember you from the New Moon a few weeks ago.”

He blushed and stammered a bit: “Yes, yes, I remember you of course, and how could I forget that pie?”

“Glad you liked it. How did the soil samples turn out?”

David turned even redder. He looked at Ted quickly to see if his carelessness had created a problem. Ted smiled and gave him a nod: It’s okay, relax.

Before David could respond to Wilma, she turned to Hank and Elliot, “Now I know why you two always had your heads together over coffee. All these secret plans.” Before they could respond, Gloria stepped up and introduced herself.

Wilma extended her hand to Gloria, “I’ve been waiting to meet the woman behind this. I’m Wilma Thorn, and I’m delighted to finally get the chance.”

Gloria felt, unless she crumbled in the next round of revelations, Wilma would be a valuable member of the team. Nodding to Hank and Elliot, she communicated her decision.

Wilma saw the signal and understood what it meant. Grabbing the initiative, she began: “Look. We can’t undo the past. You have made lots of mistakes; we have made lots of mistakes. What we need to do is start from here. I’m not sure what form of government you have in mind for this island, but it takes a lot of resources – as I’m sure you know – to support a poverty-level class of citizens. If we’re going to be an active part of this new country – we have to be a contributing part. And I don’t mean just as waiters, cooks and housekeepers. If it’s going to be pretty much the same system as what was in place before – then we’ll take our chances with the Americans. They, at least, have the money to spend, even if it rarely filters down….”

Wilma noticed the gleam in their eyes and let her words stop. She had more to say but decided to wait. Gloria grinned at this brave woman that only wanted her people to survive. Wilma saw the grin and realised they already had something in mind.

Hank began. “The one thing there will not be on this island is any kind of welfare system. Everyone is going to have to support themselves and their families – but this time, there will be a way to do it. There will be plenty of jobs – good paying jobs – and not enough people to fill them. There will be a substantial build program on this island, we will need more skilled labour, tradesmen, foremen and managers than we have. There will be…”

Wilma interrupted. “Build program? You mean you are going to expand the MacDougall empire.”

“Everyone can build their own empire.” He folded his arms across his chest. “There will be opportunities to create new businesses and expand the existing ones like never before. If they work hard enough.”

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. “I know about work. I worked my way through University. I worked and bought the New Moon. You don’t have to tell me about work, Hank. Building empires though, that’s different. You didn’t start with nothing. We would be.”

Gloria stepped into the fray. “Not necessarily.”

Elliot had first suggested it; they had discussed it at length. There was a brief thought to wait until they learned what kind of numbers David's analysis would reveal – but that was dismissed. They all wanted to do this, for their own reasons, whatever the outcome.

Her eyes widened as Gloria told her about their idea. When asked if that might meet with everyone’s approval, she could only nod yes.

Wilma looked over at Ted, who had been silent so far, and asked him. “Can these people do this? Do they have the power?”

Ted looked at her straight on. “They do if the Plan works. If it fails – everything fails.”

Wilma finally sat down, opened her briefcase, took out a notepad and began to write. She started giggling and thought, ‘Oh Harry Thorn, wait until you hear this.’