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The negotiations on the EastHem trade agreement actually took the better part of five weeks to hammer out. The sticking point was the matter of compensation for the goods. EastHem wanted Mars to convert to their system of currency — the EastHem pound. They wanted to pay Mars for the agricultural products they purchased in pounds and then have Mars pay them in pounds for the alcohol, cigarettes, and coffee. Laura Whiting absolutely refused to budge on this manner.
"This will be a strict exchange of commodities for commodities," she said time and time again. "We give you a certain amount of agricultural goods and you give us a certain amount of addictive drugs. We will not convert to your currency or allow you to accept ours. That is non-negotiable."
EastHem listened to her but didn't want to believe her. They tried as hard as they could. They offered ridiculously low prices on their end and offered ridiculously high prices on the Martian end just to get Laura Whiting and her legislature to agree to convert to pounds. The Martians refused. They threatened to withhold fuel shipments if an agreement could not be reached.
"Then we would be forced to end all agricultural shipments to EastHem," Whiting calmly countered. "We would eject all of you from our planet and we would be easy fodder when the WestHems returned. You would never again enjoy the boost to your economy that we are responsible for."
Eventually, the diplomats agreed to Laura Whiting's condition. They had been ordered to push as hard as they could for conversion to pounds but not to go under if the greenies were insistent. The next phase of the negotiations concerned the amounts of each commodity. Again the EastHems started off with patently ridiculous demands. They were suggesting the equivalent of two hundred kilos of marijuana for each pack of cigarettes, six hundred kilos of beef for each kilo of coffee, one hundred kilos of vegetables for each liter of alcohol. The weeks ground on and eventually the two sides were able to meet in the middle and put their signatures to a formal trade treaty.
On December 8, 2146, Laura Whiting called a press conference in order to announce the terms of the new agreement. There was something else she intended to announce as well, something that she had discussed with the planetary legislature and even with Jack Strough. All had given their agreement to the plan, although Strough had his own reasons for doing so. It was something that would be a considerable shock to a mostly silent minority of people on the planet.
"We have hammered out a trade agreement with EastHem," she happily announced that night at 1800 hours, New Pittsburgh time. "All cargo will be transported in their ships, loaded and unloaded at Triad by Martian dockworkers. The actual amounts of the agreement will be posted on the MarsGroup text sites but we have gotten all we've asked for and more. Within eight weeks our planet will once again be able to enjoy fine coffee, alcoholic beverages, various tobacco products, and... for the first time in our history (except for those corporate WestHems who had it specially imported), seafood consisting of crabs, lobsters, shrimp, oysters, clams, and various types of ocean and freshwater fish. This last was an added inducement suggested by EastHem as a measure of good faith and accepted by the negotiation team. So have faith, Martians, soon most of you will be swimming in intoxicants, tobacco, and coffee once again and you'll be able to sample seafood."
She could not hear it but she had a feeling a cheer was going up around the planet. She smiled in silence for a few moments, waiting for it to die down.
"Now the distribution of these trade goods is something that myself and my advisors have thought long and hard on. They will be sold at a fixed price in the various retail establishments and bars until such time that we hammer out a new constitution and a new economic system. (Jack Strough frowned mightily from his seat in the audience at this point — he and his cohorts were planning on going back to the old constitution with a few modifications). There will be no need for profiteering or hoarding of these supplies. In the amounts we've negotiated there will be enough for everyone. So have faith, Martians, your vices will be arriving soon."
She paused again, allowing what she assumed was another planetwide cheer to die down. She then turned her face serious.
"This brings us to a subject that seems unrelated but that really is not. It is the subject of welfare reform. For dozens of generations we have had a system in place in which the needy, the jobless, the infirm among us have been supported by the government so that they may continue to be housed and fed. This is a system that many of you who fought in the revolution, who toiled in the factories to supply the revolution, lived under when WestHem rule was in place. It is a system in which the government paid you a certain amount of money each month for expenses. It was a system that was necessary when we had better than twenty-five percent unemployment on this planet. But it is a system that was and is rife for abuse by many of those who partake in it. It is time for that system to change and it is with the influx of these luxury items that we must act to avoid further abuses. It is time for what our ancestors used to call 'tough love'."
"We have reached a point now in Martian history where there are many more jobs available than there are workers to fill them. Our war efforts have opened up positions in every conceivable field. We need police officers, dip-hoes, factory workers, agricultural workers, janitors, soldiers, miners. We need people to work in order to make this new reality we are forging continue on. In short, there is no reason why everyone who is capable of working should not be working. 'I can't get a job' was a very legitimate excuse under WestHem. It is not a legitimate excuse today. What I'm about to suggest may sound harsh to those accustomed to the WestHem way of doing things, but it is a necessity for our new system. From this point on if you do not work, you will not get any money."
From all over the planet people gasped as they heard this. Some in surprise, many in approval, some, like Belinda Creek, in surprised shock.
"Now I'm not talking about cutting everyone off from government assistance," Whiting continued. "I wouldn't dream of such a thing. It is my belief that just by virtue of being born you are entitled to certain basic needs of life. If you are capable of working but choose not to, that is your right as a citizen of Mars. The government will continue to provide you with basic food items, with basic shelter in public housing buildings, with basic clothing, with an education in public schools, with basic Internet access and a personal computer. But that is all we will provide you with and from here on out these things will be provided for you by vouchers. Those on public assistance will no longer receive any money of any kind from the government of Mars.
"Now as to how that relates to these luxuries we have just negotiated for our planet, you will have to have money in order to obtain them from a store. There will be no vouchers for cigarettes, for coffee, for alcohol, or for marijuana. If you want some of those things, or if you want premium cuts of beef, or if you want food from a restaurant, you will have to have money — namely credits, which I've named in that they represent a credit you have received for some sort of contribution to society. Those who contribute will be given credits. Those who do not will be fed, housed, and clothed in basic format and will have no credits for luxuries.
"For those of you sitting in your homes accustomed to receiving your monthly marijuana and alcohol vouchers and your one hundred credits of spending money, those days are at an end as of now. We're not doing this because we hate you. We're doing it to encourage you to get up and make something of yourselves.
"That is all I have to say. Good night. Let's keep Mars free."
Belinda Creek was shocked beyond belief. She had watched the Whiting bitch's speech with initial glee as she talked about all the wonderful and cheap booze that would soon be pouring in from EastHem. True there had been no mention of Fruity — her favorite — but surely the EastHems had some sort of similar concoction for their own vermin. Her elation had turned to horror, however, as Whiting had explained the welfare reform. No money of any kind? Vouchers for food, housing, and clothing? What kind of shit was that? That wasn't fair! There was no way the people of Mars would stand for that, was there?
She went to bed that night convinced that the press would crucify Whiting the next morning, that popular outrage would quickly overturn this fascist edict. In this she was partially right. There were many questions about her unexpected welfare reform law the next morning, most having to do with what those who were unable to work because of disability would do. As the days went on and Whiting explained that her reform only applied to those who were able to work but chose not to, much of the questions faded away. In fact, it was determined that the majority of the planet, including those who had grown up as vermin but were now working, approved of Whiting's reform. Some of them were even of the opinion that she was being too generous.
Jack Strough and his growing number of followers were one such group. Strough was all in favor of denying credits or dollars or pounds (whatever they ultimately ended up going with) to those on welfare but he was opposed to the idea of giving them even basic vouchers.
"Why should we house them if they refuse to work?" Strough asked a group of reporters interviewing him on the subject. "Why should our hardworking field hands have to feed them if they refuse to work? Why should we give them free clothing and free education if they refuse to work? Working is what keeps the economy rolling. Everyone capable of it should contribute to the cause. If you choose not to, I say you can go naked and homeless and starve in the street."
After a week of excited talk about the welfare reform rules it was apparent to Belinda and everyone like her that public opinion was not in their favor. If anything they stood to lose the meager handouts Whiting was offering them.
"This is a bunch of fuckin' bullshit," Belinda told the computer screen one night after smoking the last of her marijuana supply. She had just received the first of her monthly vouchers via email and, as promised, there was no credits or dollars listed in them.
She longed for the way things used to be, when the booze was free, the asshole that lived with her was fucking her on a regular basis, and no one expected her to go out and find a fucking job.
The fervor over the welfare reform act died down quickly the last week of December when the subject of "the vote" was raised for the first time. It was Jack Strough who raised it and once it was brought to the public's attention it would only be called "the vote" when discussed.
"It's obvious that myself and Governor Whiting have very differing views on the direction this planet should take in the post-revolutionary phase," Strough announced at a press conference. "I represent an organization that a good portion of our blue collar workers now belong to — the Martian Federation of Labor — and I speak to you now as their voice. We have achieved what Ms. Whiting set out to do. We have beaten the WestHem marines and chased them from our planet. Now it is time for us to reconcile with them in the interest of all Martians.
"Governor Whiting's idealistic plans of an isolated planet, independent from the economies of EastHem and WestHem sound good after smoking a few bowls and bullshitting with your buddies over artichokes and cheesecake, but they hardly hold water in the real world. We cannot exist without WestHem. They are our mother country and they are the ones who must purchase the majority of what we produce here. We must establish diplomacy with them, negotiate a permanent armistice, exchange our prisoners, and, most of all, trade with them in the great tradition of democratic capitalism. It is a nice pipe dream that we can be fully independent but it can't happen in real life. It simply can't!
"If we do not negotiate now, from a position of strength, WestHem is going to send more troops here and forcibly take Mars back from those who fought so hard to keep it. They are going to take over the labor rolls again and cut everything to the bare minimum, bringing us back to the unemployment levels we had before. They are going to sever the ties we recently established with EastHem and force us back into the monopoly of buying only their coffee, only their alcohol, only their tobacco. Did we sacrifice so much these past months just to have it all taken away from us? Just to subject ourselves to occupation by the very WestHem marines we just ejected from this place?
"I say that is not an acceptable answer. We are in the position of strength now and it is time to start negotiating an acceptable peace with WestHem. We can give them back their corporate holdings but regulate how they are allowed to run them on Mars. We can keep our government intact and insure that the majority of this planet's wealth stays here. This is the only answer, people. Becoming a communistic, isolated planet that does not accept WestHem money for the goods we provide is Governor Whiting's way. Being realistic in our goals and ambitions is my way. Now I want to know what you, the Martian people, think about all of this.
"We must pick one path or the other and we must do it soon. For this reason I am challenging Governor Whiting to put our respective ideologies to a vote. I suggest we schedule it for the second Tuesday in January. The question will be a simple one. Do we remain committed to complete independence — which would entail fighting for this planet's freedom again and again until the WestHems either give up or defeat us — or do we open negotiations for the peaceful reconciliation of our two planets in such a way that guarantees us de facto independence?
"I'm awaiting Governor Whiting's reply."
He ended the press conference a moment later, not staying to answer questions.
Laura Whiting's reply was an angry one.
"Did we not already vote on this?" she asked the public the next day. "In the very beginning, after the MPG secured this planet from WestHem, we voted on this issue. I don't think the wording of that particular ballet was ambiguous in any way. It read: Will the Planet of Mars declare independence from the Federal Alliance of the Western Hemisphere and enforce this declaration by any means available? Yes or no. The vote was overwhelmingly 'yes'. We did not vote for 'de facto independence'. Our soldiers did not fight and die for 'de facto independence'. Jack Strough is trying to divide this planet at a time when we most need to be unified."
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