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Resurrection: Rebirth of the United States

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Both Bast and Gabriel are awesome.

I did briefly wonder if Black had taken over Moultrie when I was reading that chapter a while back, and it turns out he did! Really fantastic updates, CatKnight. :)
 
Machiavellian: ...As for where I was Catknight, I had death in my immediate family and it knocked me out of things for a while...

my condolences, Sir !


coz1: ...And so Moultrie has been taken by Black. So now, where is Allen? Did I miss that?

we have not been told anything about Allen ! ! :rolleyes:
 
coz1 said:
And so Moultrie has been taken by Black. So now, where is Allen? Did I miss that?
Click to expand...
Probably on the run as a fugative after "his" act of treason.
 
I imagine Allen's body is lying in some shallow grave, discarded by Black when he moved on to his latest plaything. There doesn't seem to be any reason to leave the man alive: he would be able to tell others he was possessed by Black. And while Black consistently underestimates humans, he does have a well-developed sense of self-preservation.

Of course, you never know with CatKnight, so until he writes a scene in which the decomposing-yet-still-recognizable body of Allen is exhumed, I'll keep an open mind. :)
 
Fulcrumvale: I like Bast. She has attitude to spare :)

Stuyvesant: It could be there were ulterior motives for hanging the privates - though instilling fear and issuing a warning is enough reason too. As for Bast being worried about Heyward...as you say, understandable but misplaced. She's not good at other people having power over her.

GhostWriter: Anything Tom can do to get close to Black with minimal warning works in his favor. And you're right about Allen not being willing. Then again, Black's proven he doesn't really care what others think.

J. Passepartout: Not really that religious. He probably went to church on Sundays most of the time, but he certainly couldn't have been called zealous.

jwolf: Actually I just said Tom is NOT Morgana's boy. Gabriel thought that was true at one point. You're right, he's in trouble though....more than even he realizes.

Chief Ragusa: Heyward had no overt power until his encounter with Black. Black implied once he had a certain potential. Then again, his coming back in time could have been an instinctive use like when he blew up Black/Rutledge's house.

No one's requested Bast take human form. She couldn't really - she's kinda stuck in cat form unless she 'leaves.'

Machiavellian: I'm sorry to hear about your family, and am glad you're back. Your ideas have merit!

Draco Rexus: We're...kinda..sorta...drifting towards the end of the story. It's like being on the Mississippi River without paddles. Yeah, we're heading for the mouth of the river but God knows when we'll get there. :)

coz1: We don't know where Allen is at this time.

Fiftypence: Thanks re- Bast and Gabriel (and the updates!)

Fulcrumvale: That could be!

Stuyvesant: Even then you're not safe. The decomposing yet still recognizable body might come back to life :X
 
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-= 180 =-​



Pennsylvania
August 1784


"General Heyward? My name is Adams. We met some years ago." John Adams stepped forward and offered his hand.

"Of course," Tom replied. A stout man approaching fifty, Adams wore the full powdered wig that marked him as a lawyer. He held his head high, intently studying the man he'd use to knock some sense into Congress.

For his part, after days on the road Heyward looked throughly disreputable. His coat needed a good scrub - fortunately Adams arranged a full dress uniform for him - and he needed to shave. Something about his gaze looked right through a man.

Adams turned away. "Mister Waymouth, good day to you sir. Mister Andrews? I did not think to see you."

"I didn't expect to be here," Andre replied stiffly.

"I..see." He mentally waved the question away. "Have a seat, General, and I will give you our situation."

Heyward sat at a square table, the two congressmen flanking him on either side. Adams leaned back and opened his coat against the heat. "Now, sir, this is a matter of some delicacy."

"You wish to use me to embarass Jefferson," Thomas said.

His brows arched. "Of course not, General. That would be petty."

"Yes."

Waymouth cleared his throat. "I believe the General is grateful for your assistance."

Adams frowned at his colleague. He preferred people to speak for themselves. "Yes," he murmured. "Yes, General. I am here at Mister Waymouth's request to see to your welfare." His lawyer leaned forward. "I do not need to tell you there is some danger here."

"Oh, I'm sure," Tom replied.

That earned a sharp look. Arrogant little... "They will hang you if they can," he emphasized sharply.

"You won't let them," Heyward smiled. "Do we have a plan?"

"Yes." He indicated Waymouth and Andre. "Forgive me, gentlemen, but I need to speak with him alone."

Andre jerked as if smacked. Waymouth frowned. "If something is amiss, John..."

"He's right," Heyward interrupted. "It's bad enough you 'brought me in.' This is a Congressional matter. You can't look like you're prejudiced in my favor."

The Brit rose. "Yes, of course. Gentlemen?" He bowed. A moment later the pair left.

Adams watched them until the door closed. "I've spoken with Charles Pinckney. He agrees this is ludicrous. What we need to do..."

"Charles Pinckney?" Tom echoed. He could sense Adams's surprise.

"Yes...of Charleston? He's your new delegate." He frowned. "That reminds me, South Carolina has a new governor - a William Moultrie. It also seems our colleague Mister Rutledge has left us."

"And what of this Pinckney?" Tom asked.

"As I was saying, he agrees this is ludicrous. I think we're both happy you've chosen to defend yourself before Congress - men more able to honor intent than the military tribunal you would normally face."

"It also serves your purposes," Tom said.

"I protest!" Adams began.

"No need. I'm the one who gave Mister Waymouth the idea to let my testimony point to problems in the Carolinas, then someone - you - could use that to hint that Congress had lost its way. A more centralized government wouldn't need to resort to potential tyranny to keep the alliance together. That is why you're here, isn't it?"

"You're a blunt man, General."

"I don't have much time to dance, Mister Adams."

"Oh?" He leaned back. "What is so important?"

Tom stared in his smug face, and thought of telling him. "Let's say I don't think South Carolina's out of danger," he said instead.

Adams furrowed his brow. "You realize you can never go back?"

Heyward jerked. "What do you mean? I have..." Anne?

So you don't know everything, my young pup. Good. "General, you left your post. Even if you're acquitted, even if we find some justification for your actions...and I believe we can...you've made a great many enemies."

"That's between me and God."

"My research shows there's a price on your head!"

Heyward's eyes narrowed. "Leave them to me."

Adams opened his mouth, shut it. "On your own head be it."

"As usual."

The lawyer shrugged. "You are more or less correct about my motive, General. Be assured I will not pursue it to the point of sacrificing you. You're my client, and I intend to see you properly represented. Now as I see it, if South Carolina is with us, then there really is no aggrieved party other than perhaps the United States Army itself. Since the judgement concerning your fate is inextricably linked with that of Congressional authority, the vote is five to zero in your favor. We need six to force a tie."

"In which case the president decides."

"Yes," Adams nodded. He smiled. "Jefferson would be a fool to vote against us though. It would make him look self-serving and authoritarian."

"He might to vex you."

Adams narrowed his gaze. Certainly he would if their positions were reversed. "Seven then," he muttered.

Heyward smiled wryly. "I'm sure you will persevere, Mister Adams."

His lawyer smiled also, though it faded when Tom continued:

"God wills it."
 
As I read this update I was struck by how detached Tom seemed, almost Blacklike in his responses. Considering the tainted source of his power, it would seem that he has to do battle for his own soul as well as for his life in Congress.

So Adams knows about Anne and he did not tell Heyward, because ...?

It's the classic temporal paradox loop: man goes back in time and acquires the power to bring himself back in time. The victor of the Black-Heyward struggle gets to write, or in this case re-write, history. Once Heyward is in the Firmament outside of time and space, he can watch Black destroy the United States and arrange for a Heyward to be born with "his" potential in the Black 20th century and another Heyward back before the Americans tried to become free. The moment Black comes back with his tool, Heyward can act, brining his future self back to merge with the 18th century Heyward and releasing the power so that Black has not the slightest inkling that part of his power has gone. Thus when Black tried to fry Heyward, he was actually trying to destroy a speck of himself. Ths Black would never do as he is so fnd of his own skin and transfers power to Heyward, just "as before".
 
Chief Ragusa: Perhaps that's what Bast meant when she kept implying Tom's having trouble?

Your paradox loop is interesting. I'll have to keep it in mind!

Mettermrck: Thanks!

J. Passepartout: I have no idea how the Adams/Jefferson thing will play out. Actually I think I may be jumping the gun on their rivalry... but it's fun to write about.

jwolf: I read yours, Passepartout's and Ragusa's comments somewhat concerned and reread my last post. I obviously miswrote something...but I'm not sure what. Let's run through that part again.

Adams says he can't go back to Carolina. He says this because he knows there's a bounty on Tom's head, and that people will want him dead.

Tom's surprised - it hadn't occured to him. He then has a wistful thought about Anne Whiting.

Adams's own thoughts are a certain smugness. Up to now Tom's displayed a disturbing understanding of his motives, and he's pleased to show his client up for a second.

So...no, Adams doesn't know about Whiting.
 
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-= 181 =-​


Independence Hall
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
August 1784

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"Order!" Thomas Jefferson, President of the United States Congress, beat his gavel on a desk covered with papers. "The delegate from Delaware will please refrain from calling the delegate from New Jersey vulgar names. We are gentlemen!"

"I wasn't referring to my colleague," Eleeazer McComb rasped. "I meant his entire state!"

In the resulting shouts Thomas Heyward leaned towards his lawyer. "I see nothing's changed."

"Politics rarely does," Adams agreed. He stood. "Mister President!"

Jefferson looked at the gallery and beat his desk again. "Order!" Once the shouting died away, he grimaced across the room. "Mister Adams, sir. I was told you would be here, but I did not countenance it. You expressed disgust with the proceedings last time, if I recall."

"I did," Adams replied. He lifted his head and raked the delegates with his gaze as they turned in their chairs. "With all respect to the seat, while I am sure we are all enlightened by Delaware's insight into where the Enemy keeps his chamberpot..."

"On the second floor," Tom said.

"...we come to this Hall on urgent business and request the house be brought to order. If you can, of course." Adams smirked.

"I can," Jefferson retorted. He glanced to the next seat over. "General Heyward. It has been many years since you've graced us with your presence. I wish it were under happier circumstances."

"I'm certain."

"And may I applaud you on your choice of representative? Never was there a man with greater ... persuasive ... skills." Jefferson smiled coldly.

"Oh no, Mister President. I cannot hold a candle to you when it comes to persuading others to do your will, no matter how well advised," Adams returned.

Many of the delegates stared back and forth, amused at their sparring.

The president's smile faded. "General Heyward, you are here because we have heard disturbing rumors about your conduct and hope you can satisfy us. Given your previous time here as well as your rank I've been prevailed upon to ask Congress to investigate this matter directly rather than convene a military tribunal. Do you agree?"

"I will answer your questions," Heyward replied.

"Please step forward and take the oath."

Heyward rose, wearing the full dress uniform of the United States Army: blue, white and red. Without looking at friend or foe he crossed the room, hat tucked under one arm.

Having been sworn in, he sat in a straight backed chair at a small table on the other side of Jefferson from his clerk, a young man with pen nervously squeaking in mad chase of their words. John Adams found a chair with the New York delegation, smiling.

"Very well." Jefferson looked through his notes. "General Heyward, you abandoned your army in Cherokee Country. Why?"

"Don't answer that!" Adams snapped.

Jefferson narrowed his gaze. "Excuse me?"

"Question presupposes General Heyward's guilt! It leads the delegates into a certain way of thinking....unintentionally I'm sure."

"This is my hall," Jefferson warned softly. "Do not think you can sit there... what is it, Mister Jay?"

John Jay, the New York delegate and a judge, rose. "While no law seeks to control the direction of a judge's questioning, perhaps Mister Adams is right and a more neutral tone should be sought."

"While we're at it, perhaps it's inappropriate for Mister Jefferson to ask questions," Adams continued.

Jefferson glowered. Even Jay arched his eyebrows. The lawyer smiled. "Withdrawn."

"Mister...General Heyward," Jefferson murmured, still looking at Adams. "Records suggest you left your army. Is this true?"

All eyes turned to Adams, who sat back and stared at his client.

"Yes."

"Are you getting this?" Jefferson asked his clerk.

"Yes, sir!" the young man piped, still writing.

"Alright, General Heyward. Yet it was 'your' army, meaning you were assigned overall command?"

"Ye..."

"Mister President!"

"Yes, Mister Adams?" Jefferson growled.

"I would like the record to reflect General Heyward was given command by Mister Edward Rutledge, God rest his soul, who lacked the authority to appoint command above a regimental level?"

"You are not here to give testimony, Mister Adams!"

"No, sir. I am here to protect my client!"

"Mister Adams, you will have the opportunity to question your client when I am through!"

Adams sat back and grinned. He turned to Heyward. "You commanded?"

"Yes."

"Why did you leave?"

"It was necessary."

Adams leaned forward. Delegates frowned.

Jefferson paused, then turned. "The chair recognizes North Carolina."

Richard Spaight stood. "What possible reason could you have for abandoning our boys, sir?"

"There was danger."

Adams's jaw dropped. Delegates stared in horror.

"You ran away from danger? You, sir, are a coward!" Spaight spat.

"No!" Heyward snarled, life flowing into him for the first time. "I ran towards it, you simple minded heathen! The trouble is in Charleston, not some God forsaken mountain fighting people we have no quarrel with..."

"Sir," Jefferson interrupted, "John Rutledge is the one who petitioned Congress for action following numerous raids..."

"He lied, or someone lied to him!" Heyward retorted. "There were no raids!"

"That's not what my principals say," Spaight said stiffly.

"Then your principals are deceived. The South Carolina border is stable, or it was before we went in!"

Jefferson held up his hand. "Mister Pinckney, can you comment?"

Pinckney frowned. "General Heyward is mistaken, your honor. South Carolina experienced considerable trouble in the last few years."

Philip Waymouth glanced at him. "You personally saw this?"

"No, sir, but I saw the prisoners from these raids."

"Prisoners we captured," Tom retorted.

"General Heyward!" Adams interrupted. "So there was danger towards home. Did you tell anyone you were leaving?"

Jefferson opened his mouth, but decided to let the question go. It would help focus the room.

Heyward answered in a monotone. "Yes."

"Who?"

"General Allen. I left him in command."

The room relaxed. This was a little better anyway.

Jefferson continued. "If you felt the need to go home, why didn't you ask for leave?"

"Why should I?"

"Because a general can't decide he's tired and wants to go home!" Spaight snapped.

"Mister President!"

Jefferson spun. "If you're going to testify for your client again, I will throw you in irons right now!"

Adams opened his mouth, shut it and sat.

Tom looked up. "The only one I could have asked would have been Rutledge. I went to confront him. That made asking for leave impossible."

Waymouth reluctantly shook his head. Jefferson caught the motion. "Massachusetts?" Adams shot him a look.

"That isn't quite true, sir," Waymouth said slowly. "There was always General Arnold. He is our Commander in Chief."
 
Heyward jerked. "What do you mean? I have..." Anne?

So you don't know everything, my young pup.

We know she is dead and I thought that phrasing meant Adams did as well.

There seems to be plenty wrong with this trial. Heyward really ought not to refer to members of Congress as simple minded heathens, even if true.

I am suspicious that the North and South Carolina delegates are agreeing with each other.

I am still unclear on what authority a State Governor could commit a federal army to a war with a foreign power without written orders from the Commander in Chief acting on Instruction from President and Congress.

By the time Jefferson has asked him how he came to be in Georgia, Congress is not going to be overly interested in hearing Adams' cross-examination. All it needs is for Allen to turn up still under Black's control to testify that he believed Heyward's claim that Rutledge has staged a coup and that the civilian government were part of said coup and that he acted on the order of his superior until shown the lie of it by Governor Moultrie and Heyward is sunk.
 
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What an interesting scene we have here... a trial held by Congress that can barely control itself. I'm loving the interplay between Adams, Jefferson, Tom and the other "...you simple minded heathen..."

I truly fear Tom may just upset the apple cart with his "mysterious" airs that he is putting on while he tries to accomplish his goal. Someone made comment on it earlier that Tom is appearing to descend into madness. This descent is not what he needs while sitting before Congress, besides making it quite difficult for Adams to successfuly plead his case, it makes Tom completely unsympathetic to the members, especially with him having a tendency to call the members names.

But for all that... it's gonna be one helluva a show no matter what!
 
Chief Ragusa: Well...right now Pinckney (the SC delegate) is agreeing because that's what he was told in the past, and he has no reason to doubt it. That's why Waymouth asked him if he'd seen everything with his own eyes.

Adams definitely needs to get his client under control. If he can.

J. Passepartout: Jefferson AND Adams. Did I say they're not getting along? :)

Mettermrck: Yes, I'm enjoying the byplay too. Weren't Adams's last words "Jefferson still lives?" (He was wrong by hours.)

Draco Rexus: Tom's not helping himself, no. He really needs to focus and get back under control if he's going to get past this.

jwolf: And that's the other danger - Tom could go the other way and start telling them everything. He might escape the noose that way, but end up in an asylum!
 
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-= 182 =-​


Pennsylvania
August 1784


The rooms John Adams kept in Philadelphia were opulent, with paintings on the wall and great stuffed chairs. Servants, forewarned of their approach, kept busy laying out fruit and juice against the summer's heat.

Adams sat by the window, his face lifted to catch the faintest breeze from an open window. He seemed relaxed, but those who knew the merchant/lawyer well would see the tension in his face as he thought very hard, very fast.

"I think you may have dished us, Phillip."

Waymouth sat across from him and stared at his juice. "He was wrong. I reminded him of the truth."

"Truth and justice are oft related, but never count on it. I learned that at Harvard." Adams opened his eyes. "Or is there more to it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you're an army man. It must be particularly galling supporting a man who left his army in mid-campaign. Do you think he did wrong?"

"Yes." He drank, holding up his hand against the retort. "You don't leave your men. Now, did he do the wrong thing for the right reason? Perhaps."

"You will agree leaving General Allen in charge helps his cause?"

Waymouth nodded. "Allen would have taken over anyway, but it helps that he saw to it before he left. No, John. There's something he's not saying. Remember the army positions on the date in question. General Arnold is in Cherokee Country. He could have asked for leave, or even help."

"A mental lapse?"

"Perhaps. He's not well. He wasn't like this a few years ago."

Adams agreed. He stood, walked to the table and grabbed an apple. "Then we must disguise that, Phillip. That and his other flaws. We may have chosen the wrong suit, but now we have to play out the hand and do our best. We can point to Rutledge misappropriating federal troops and otherwise subverting Congress, then turn that to show how little control we really have over the original states and so rebuild the government, but to do that I need them to be listening while I cross-examine him."

"There's more to what you say too, though, isn't there? Jefferson."

Adams smiled and bit savagely into his apple.

Waymouth stared out the window. "His entire defense is South Carolina's danger. What danger? That could be important."

Adams shrugged. "Whatever it was died with Ned Rutledge."

"He didn't seem to think so."

The lawyer flicked his hand. "Paranoia. I've seen it before."

"I still think we should know. It could strengthen your case."

"Perhaps." He sat again. "The truth is I don't care: He may have supped on cold, roast baby so long as he helps make our point. He stared outside as well. "I think I will ask for a delay. It will make that bastard smile, but I want Congress to have time for today to become a memory."

"I want to press on." Thomas Heyward stepped in with a servant, who bowed and departed. He gave them a distant smile and Adams stood.

"That is unwise, General. Today did not go well. Calling Mister Spaight names did you no credit."

"He is irrelevant."

"Nonetheless, your answers pleased no one. Congress..."

"Congress is irrelevant."

Adams and Waymouth exchanged worried glances. "General," his lawyer said carefully. "You do know this 'inquiry' is closer to a trial than anything else? That these men are your judges?"

"They are not fit to judge me," Heyward replied coldly.

"They will judge nonetheless. And you realize what happens if we lose?"

"Yes. America dies."
------------------------

South Carolina


On the steps of the State House, Colonel John Preston of the Carolina Guard dodged as a man nearly ran him down.

"Beg pardon, sir!" the man cried, then paused. "Colonel?"

Preston took a step back and looked into the familiar face of his former second-in-command. "Major Engels! How are you? Where have you been all this time?"

They shook hands. "I'm well, sir. I was injured for a time and had to leave the Cherokee campaign, Terrible thing, General Allen turning like that. Do you think he was mad?"

John shook his head. "I spoke to him the day he came home. He seemed angry, but not manic. I didn't think he had it in him."

"No," Engels hesitated. "No. I wonder if it was just being in the swamp so long against Indians that didn't fight fair. I wouldn't have expected General Heyward to leave as he did either. I suppose Congress will figure it out though."

"Congress?" John asked sharply.

"Hm?" Engels straightened. "Yes, sir! After I came home I learned through Mister Rutledge that he'd sent a number of scouts out to find the general. I volunteered once I was well, and he sent me to Philadelphia. I learned he would be arriving...well, yesterday, and rode back as fast as I could. When I heard of poor Mister Rutledge I thought I should give my report to the governor direct."

Preston frowned at the State House. Moultrie still hadn't recovered from his scare. He seemed ... harsh, dictatorial. Still he'd always felt there had to be some reasonable explanation for Tom's behavior. "How did he react?"

"He jumped to his feet. Looked like a school boy! He pressed me for details and sent me on my way with a whole pack of messengers in my wake. I only stopped to pick up a letter for my back pay, now I'm on my way home."

Preston smiled. "I won't keep you. Welcome home."

"Thank you, sir." Engels ran off. Preston shook his head and continued to Moultrie's office.
-----------------------

"Captain Jones," Governor Moultrie rose from his desk. "Thank you for coming so quickly. I understand you leave on the tide?"

"Yes." John Paul Jones, commander of the USS Ranger, shook his hand and sat. "Please forgive my directness, Governor, but there is much still to be done. What may I do for you?"

"I don't mean to delay you," Moultrie replied smoothly. "Only to ask if you will do an essential service for me. I need to send a letter to Charles Pinckney, the South Carolina delegate to Congress. I don't like to ask, but since you are heading there anyway, and Ranger is the fastest ship afloat..."
 
You know, if Heyward could just step back for a moment, it sounds as if Waymouth and Adams could figure out that there is some kind of "blackness" in South Carolina -- enough to start asking some serious questions of Governor Moultrie. I despair that the struggle still seems so badly one-sided: Black is ever smooth with manipulative speech, while Heyward constantly alienates his allies and makes enemies who do not need to be made.
 
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