The American Spectator

“But Mr. Ambassador — ” the Mayor continued.

“Mr. Mayor, I’m going to have to throw you out if you don’t stop,” said Schoonmaker, slamming his fist on the table. The Mayor shrunk back in his chair. It was always people who didn’t belong at meetings who tried to do the most talking, thought Federer.

“As you know,” continued Borlander, “our defenses in this theater have long been in decline. We have not fought a war in the Pacific since Vietnam and although China was a rising power, we have not felt compelled to meet their threat. Even after they annexed Taiwan in 2040 and barred us from the Western Pacific the assumption was our nuclear shield would protect us. Frankly, we thought the Chinese might be preparing a claim for Samoa or the Marshall Islands but we did not anticipate a thrust toward Hawaii.”

“Was there any planning for this contingency?” asked Federer.

“Of course, Mr. Ambassador,” snapped Borlander. “But it’s very difficult to get the attention of Washington. The TSA affair has left both the Administration and Congress with very strong anti-military feelings.”

Federer sucked on a pencil while mulling this over.

“So there’s no chance of kicking them out of here any time soon?” he said.

“That would be correct, sir. Unless we want to risk a nuclear war.”

“May I put a word in here,” said Slocum, the assistant Secretary of State. She was the kind of woman that was now common in government, an academic who had probably done her Ph.D. on the oppression of women under the Ming Dynasty of the 17th century. “I feel a great deal of tension in this room. I would like to have everybody — “

Suddenly there was a commotion at the door. Two guards entered, leading a tall, middle-aged man with a long black ponytail.

“Excuse me, Mr. Ambassador,” said Alexander, rising quickly. “This is Preston Ward, chairman of the Polynesian studies department at the University of Hawaii. We thought you would want to question him.” The aides led the man to an empty chair across the table. Although he appeared to be in handcuffs, Ward quickly unfolded his arms and propped them on the table. Federer saw he had a small gold ring embedded in his nose.

“You’re the leader of the Polynesian Independence Movement?” asked Federer.

“I am,” said Ward sullenly.

“Are you Polynesian?”

“I am 1/16th Polynesian on my mother’s side. I am also a fully inducted member of the Menehune, who are the original settlers of this Island,” his combativeness beginning to rise. “And its rightful owners, I might add.”