Lake Iris, New Syrtis
Capellan March
Federated Suns
04 January 2999
“Gentlemen, I’d like to introduce to you all, a very good friend of mine – Michael Hasek.â€
Rodney Van Kleven pulled an empty chair from the table where two men were already seated. Michael Hasek nodded his appreciation to Rodney as he took his seat. As he lowered himself into the chair, he held out his right hand to formally introduce himself to the two others seated with him.
A brown-haired man in his late thirties took Michael’s hand with his own. “James Simmons.†Simmons did little more than wrap his soft, moist fingers around Michael’s hand. Michael took notice of the other man’s manicured fingers and an otherwise polished demeanor.
“Delighted,†Michael replied, reaching for the hand of a younger man. “Ethan Mourtos.†Ethan’s handshake was a bit more firm, suggesting an obvious military background. As neither man wore a uniform, Michael could tell Ethan’s days of service were over.
“A pleasure, Ethan.†Michael sat neutrally. He had no idea what to make of either of these two.
Rodney pulled up a chair beside Michael. Michael and Rodney were both officers in the Syrtis Fusiliers, the personal army of the Hasek family. Michael was the heir to that legacy as the oldest son of Duke George Hasek. They both wore green uniforms of the AFFS army, while red trim indicated they were MechWarriors. Other AFFS personnel were present in the room, proudly displaying their uniforms and their decorations. Unlike the other soldiers in the room, Michael and Rodney wore the Syrtis Medal of Honor on the left side of their uniforms. The award was a highly polished silver, diamond-shaped ornament crafted to look like the Hasek family crest.
“Are you enjoying yourself, Michael?†Mourtos asked, sipping from a glass of champagne. Who asked that sort of question? It would be like asking “how’s the weather†in a thunderstorm. Of course Michael was not enjoying himself. He hated parties and aristocratic gatherings. Michael gave Mourtos a fake smile and nodded.
“It’s a great party, Mr. Mourtos.â€
“Please let me know if I can get you anything.†Mourtos spread his arms. “The Duke and his family are not guests so much as they are my family. Please make yourself at home.â€
Michael nodded, surveying the room. Most of Ethan’s guests were AFFS personnel, although some others were likely civilians. No one was here without an invitation. Even the soldiers present in the room were invited by someone with ties to Mourtos. Michael was invited through Rodney, his friend since they began basic training. Some of the faces were familiar to Michael. Robert Murchison – CEO of News Network – stood in one corner of the room speaking to a pretty girl in a yellow dress, probably to convince her to sign on as an anchorwoman. In another corner, Johnston Industries CEO, Keith Ryan was in a heated debate with holovid actor Matt Daniels about “the military-industrial complexâ€. Other guests included singer Nora Corker, Chancellor of the Exchequer Howard Silverstein, and even Duchess Breti Carnoque.
Corker had just released a controversial new music vid that compared Prince Andrew Davion to Stefan Amaris – perhaps the most reviled man in history. Corker was known for her outlandish political statements. She was going at it with Silverstein and Carnoque. Silverstein was explaining to Corker the benefits of inflation and debts and how inflation actually happens. Carnoque did little more than parrot back Silverstein’s explanation to Corker, revealing just how little the Duchess actually knew about economics. For all his experience and intellect, Silverstein often contradicted his own statements, sometimes in the same sentence. The Duchess just nodded in agreement and Corker just looked even more puzzled, too simple-minded to even pick up on his contradictions. In the end she just resorted to name calling and preaching the evils of capitalism. If only Silverstein actually believed in capitalism – the kind of capitalism Michael Hasek believed in.
“You have a lovely estate, Mr. Mourtos†Michael commented, “I think it might be bigger than my family’s.†He chuckled.
Mourtos just gave a humble shrug. “It was my family’s estate before it was mine. Before I left it was much smaller. When I returned I had made some improvements to the house. It’s roughly three times the size of the house my family left to me.â€
Michael feigned curiosity. “Where exactly did you leave to, Mr. Mourtos?â€
Mourtos smiled, expecting the question to come up eventually. “Tikonov.â€
This time Michael did not have to fake his interest. “Tikonov? Hopefully not sometime during 2987.â€
Mourtos nodded, crossing his arms across his chest and grinning cheek to cheek. It was obviously something he was proud of. Then he added, “I was there for eight months during the war.â€
“Didn’t like it enough to stay the whole year?†Michael joked.
He shook his head, letting his eyes wander the room. “I had at least thirty close calls, if not more. The last time it happened, I got hit in the chest with a Barrett and I fell out of the chopper. I broke six bones when I hit the ground and almost got stepped on and cooked by a Liao Firestarter. A Liao patrol found me but they let me go for a pack of cigs. Then I stole another pack from the quartermaster and they sent me home.â€
“Well that’s one way to get out of a war.â€
“It’s the only way.†Mourtos responded.
There was silence for a moment as everyone considered the importance of his comment. Sometimes the goals of war were not enough to justify fighting in the first place.
“I agree. There was no reason for us to have ever gone to Tikonov in the first place. I often feel our leadership does not act in our best interests.â€
Simmons raised an eyebrow and decided to join the conversation. “And this leadership does not include you, or your family? The Tikonov operation would never have been possible without the help of your father.â€
“I was eleven during that conflict.†Michael stated.
“But your father still participated in that action, did he not?†Simmons pointed an accusatory finger at Michael.
Michael turned his head slightly, considering the allegation. He put both elbows on the table, trying to look as neutral as possible. Then he said, “yes, well, my father maintains that Tikonov was a victory in terms of material gained. My father and I are known to disagree on many things. This happens to be one of them. I don’t think it was worth the cost of lives and our nation’s credibility that we paid and are still paying to this day. Frankly, we keep printing pounds like the newspapers no one reads to pay off our debts to Tharkad and Terra. It creates inflation, and sucks the wealth from the middle class. Historically, paper currency has been used to finance wars through a form of pseudo-credit. We don’t pay with taxes, but the younger generation gets left with currency that does not purchase as much as it used to.â€
“Are you suggesting that we don’t fight the enemies on our borders?†Mourtos asked in disbelief.
“Well, take in mind, we’ve already been fighting them for over a hundred years. If our government was forced to pay for these wars up front, you can be sure that they wouldn’t last this long.â€
Rodney had something to add to the conversation.
“And what about the Capellans? Or the Dragon? Do we raise the taxes every time they attack us?â€
“Hell, yes.†Michael said defiantly. “We’re not the only ones unable to pay for this war, they can’t pay for it either. Why is it, that the largest army in the Inner Sphere has been engaged in war for one hundred years against the smallest? Is it because we couldn’t wipe them out if we tried? I bet no less than two other Houses would join in on that action.â€
“So why do we keep the Liaos around?†Simmons pressed.
Michael slammed his palm on the table, nodding in approval. “I’ll tell you why. It gives us one other enemy to worry about. We don’t mess with the Concordat anymore, they’ve made it abundantly clear that they’ll fight for their survival. And we’re better off without them. Kurita has two borders to worry about, and they don’t have the firepower to guard both simultaneously. But as long as Liao is around we’re sufficiently scared enough to surrender more of our rights to New Avalon. Without Liao, they can’t justify the centralization of power to New Avalon. They certainly can’t justify throwing good kids to their deaths for a century.â€
“You really think Liao or Kurita will just let us live in peace?†This question from Mourtos.
“Maybe they won’t, but I doubt they have the stomach or the money to keep this war going on any longer. You see, they’re all printing money out of thin air to finance it too. No one has been watching the commodities markets recently, but if you had been you might notice that Terran companies are buying them all up.â€
“What does that have to do with anything?†Simmons asked exasperated.
“Everything,†Michael said simply. When all parties gave him stunned expressions he explained further. “All Terran companies are highly regulated by ComStar. They own a monopoly on all interstellar communications.â€
“Tell us something we don’t know.†Mourtos replied.
Michael continued. “Most of humanity’s industry is still on Terra. Some of it was destroyed, but enough of it was still intact enough to replicate itself or repair some of the less damaged infrastructure. The one thing Terra always lacked was raw material. Germanium, gold, silver, copper, aluminum, iron, hydrogen…you name it, it can be found somewhere in the Inner Sphere. Wherever it’s abundant, it’s virtually worthless. So some companies buy up the excess through the local markets and take them back to Terra. What does this mean, exactly?â€
“Yes, please tell us.†Rodney mocked.
Michael ignored him, continuing on. “Alone, some of those industries outpace an entire Successor State. With them all operational again and a steady flow of materials to keep them pumping, ComStar has the means to become the largest economic powerhouse in the Inner Sphere, if they already aren’t. But that’s not the worst part. Terra was a military capital in the final days of the Star League. Even if only twenty five percent of its industry still functions, ComStar can field a military larger and more advanced than anything we’ve ever seen by 3070.â€
“How big are we talking, Michael?†Simmons asked him.
“On par with, or close enough to the size of Kerensky’s Exodus Fleet.â€
That drew laughs from everyone. For a moment, Michael was not sure how to react. Even Rodney could not hold himself together as he nearly fell out of his chair. That was most odd, especially because the numbers made sense to Michael. He tried explaining to them that he was not joking but they were no longer listening at this point. As they continued to laugh, some of the room’s guests turned to see what the commotion was about.
“I think there’s a far greater likelihood of Kerensky and his men showing up before that happens.†Simmons mocked.
Michael waited for them to stop laughing – which took a lot longer than he expected. It may have sounded funny to some, but he doubted it was really that funny. Rodney was the first. He glanced apologetically at his friend. It was not Rodney's fault. Rodney just enjoyed a good conversation and even more than that, he liked to yuck it up with the aristocracy. Even if Rodney disagreed with Michael, it was usually for superficial reasons and Rodney often played devil's advocate for the sport of debate. Deep down, Michael knew Rodney agreed with him on most issues.
The laughter died, but Michael could see he had left his impression on these two men. It was Rodney who decided to break the silence.
"In all seriousness, Michael, you can't just return to a gold, or a silver, or even a germanium standard because the economy is far too large and diverse to support non-liquid currency. There is not nearly enough metals in the world to support that style of economy."
"That's the lie we're taught in the Federated schools. Individual worlds across the Inner Sphere already accept only hard currency, including Davion worlds. On those worlds the market sets price controls and currency value. If there is not enough gold on one world, the value of the gold naturally increases until there is. Planetary, and to some extent - regional governments should be able to decide things like denominations of currency. In fact, they do in some cases. New Avalon does not have enough central control over the markets to determine what we should and should not accept as payment."
"But Terra does." Simmons pointed out with some satisfaction.
Michael shook his head in the negative. "There's one big difference there. ComStar's currency is actually backed by something of value. Even if they do issue paper, it can always be returned for HPG credit. That's why C-Bills are accepted on every world."
Once again there was silence. Not even Simmons had a point to counter with. Mourtos rested his chin on his arm while he thought to himself. Rodney poked at a smear of caviar with his spoon and took a lingering lick of the sample. It looked like very rich caviar, probably imported from Carver V. After a while Simmons shook his head. He was not ready to give up, but obviously had no more talking points to counter with.
"I disagree." He said shaking his head firmly, but refusing to make eye contact. "What you're advocating is almost anarchy. The job of the central government is to provide a central bank and a saftey net for all its people. For better or for worse we need some regulations or we're no better than the fools that ran off with Kerensky. I admire your intelligence, which is rare for someone of your age. You obviously care a lot about the issues, but I think you are mistaken on this one."
Mourtos stood from his chair as he gestured towards a huge set of doors at the opposite end of the room from him. Michael turned to take a look.
"Gentlemen," Mourtos began, "this has been a most interesting conversation."
Michael shrugged. "My opinions are my own, and do not reflect those of my father. We may agree on some things, but I have fundamental differences with him on key issues."
"Michael, you are a young man with interesting ideas. But I wonder if you have the strength to stand by your convictions."
Michael cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean by that?"
Mourtos circled the table, walking past Simmons' chair. He stood behind Rodney and Michael, gesturing to the door. The doors were closed and likely locked. Mourtos reached into his coat pocket, producing a shiny golden key that Michael assumed would be able to unlock those doors. Whatever Mourtos wanted to discuss, it was something he wanted to discuss very discreetly behind those doors.
"Rodney tells me that you are a man who shares my imagination. I invited you here today because I wanted to know just how much of that imagnation you share. Actions speak louder than words. I ask you to join us in my library where we can do more than discuss our imagination, we will bring it to life."
Michael raised one eyebrow. "What is this imagination that you have, Mr. Mourtos?"
A broad smile swept across the host's face. "I have a dream, Michael. A dream for the entire Inner Sphere. Will you join me to save the Inner Sphere?"