Chapter 645 - 300: Magical Realism

"A total of ten billion US dollars."

Higgins was stunned.

He blinked, his mind racing to search every legislative agenda in his memory.

"What bill? Ten billion dollars?"

Higgins’s voice rose a few pitches.

"Ron, I’m the Vice Chairman of the Senate Appropriations Committee! If there was a ten-billion-dollar bill, how could I possibly not know? It hasn’t even had its first reading! It’s not even on the agenda!"

"Are you using a bill that hasn’t even been born yet as an excuse?"

"You’re committing fraud! This is a serious procedural violation!"

Ron smiled.

"Jeff, you’re a Legislator. You care about procedure, and you’re not wrong about that."

"But for the construction companies out there that have been starving for half a year, for the workers waiting to put food on the table, procedure doesn’t fill their stomachs."

Ron walked over to Higgins.

"Yes, the bill hasn’t passed yet."

"Legally speaking, it doesn’t actually exist."

"But in Pittsburgh, in Erie, in the entire industrial zone of Western Pennsylvania, it’s already a reality."

Ron took a copy of a contract from his drawer and handed it to Higgins.

"Take a look at this."

Higgins took the contract.

It was a general contracting letter of intent signed by a builder from Erie City, along with proof of a credit line issued by PNC Bank.

"What is this?" Higgins looked at the numbers. "Has PNC Bank gone insane? On what grounds are they extending credit for a letter of intent?"

"Because they believe in Leo Wallace,"

Ron said calmly.

"Or rather, they believe in this Alliance."

"Jeff, open your eyes and look."

Ron pointed out the window.

"Those excavators are from Pittsburgh, the steel is from local mills, the workers are our own citizens, and even their lunches are delivered by community kitchens."

"The bank extended the credit, the factory shipped the goods, and the builders have started work."

"The entire chain is already in motion."

"This *is* the de facto bill."

"We don’t need to wait for the gavel to fall in Harrisburg. We’re getting things done ourselves first."

"Absurd!"

Higgins slammed the contract on the table.

"You’re trampling on the rule of law! Disregarding the authority of the State Assembly! You’ve created money out of thin air, created a budget out of thin air! This is a financial crime!"

"I’m going to put a stop to this immediately! I’m going to get the Auditing Bureau involved! I’m going to—"

"You’re going to what?"

Ron’s voice suddenly turned cold, cutting off the Senator’s roar.

"Are you going to make those tower cranes stop?"

"Are you going to tell those three thousand workers who just got their first week’s pay to pack up and go home?"

"Are you going to tell the local steel mill owners that their orders are canceled because their representative in Harrisburg thinks it’s not proper procedure?"

Ron moved in on Higgins, their faces less than four inches apart.

"Jeff, this is an election year."

"Your name is on the ballot."

"Do you know how much the unemployment rate in Erie has dropped in the last two weeks? Three percent."

"Do you know what those workers are talking about right now? They’re talking about finally being able to buy their kids new shoes, about finally being able to fix their leaky roofs."

"This is a political achievement."

Ron poked Higgins in the chest.

"A monumental political achievement."

"Whether you’re with the Republican Party or the Democratic Party, there’s one trick that always works on grassroots voters."

"And that’s jobs."

"As long as people have work, as long as they have money in their pockets, who cares if that money comes from an appropriation from Washington or a note from Leo Wallace?"

Higgins froze.

He looked at Ron’s face, then out the window.

He felt a sense of fear.

Not the fear of breaking the law, but the fear of losing power.

He suddenly realized he had been strapped to a war chariot hurtling forward at high speed.

This vehicle had no brakes, not even a steering wheel; it was running wild on sheer inertia.

If he jumped off now and actually tried to stop this project...

...the enraged workers and the local business owners who stood to lose a fortune would tear him to pieces.

All these people were now part of that chain of interests.

If Higgins dared to say "no," it would be the same as cutting off their livelihoods.

In this day and age, cutting off someone’s livelihood is worse than murdering their parents.

"You... you’re forcing my hand."

Higgins’s voice softened, and his once-straight back slumped a little.

"What if the bill doesn’t pass in the end? What if this bubble bursts? We’ll be facing billions of dollars in bad debt!"

"That’s why the bill must pass."

Ron sat back down in his chair and picked up his half-finished cigarette.

"Jeff, this is why we came to you."

"Leo Wallace has already cooked the meal and even fed it to the voters."

"Now, we need you to go to Harrisburg, to that damn legislative hall, and supply the receipt to pay the bill."

"You have no choice."

"If you don’t sign off on this, the bad debt will be on your head, and the voters will think you’re the one who ruined their good fortune."

"But if you do sign..."

Ron broke into a smile.

"Then this becomes your achievement."

"You can be the one at the ribbon-cutting for the newly completed hub. You can tell all the voters, ’Look, I’m the one who fought for this ten billion in Harrisburg for you. I’m the one who brought jobs back home.’"

"Your re-election will be a sure thing."

"Even the Democratic Party won’t send anyone of consequence to challenge you, because you’re a friend of the Revival Alliance."

Higgins fell silent.

’He was rapidly calculating the pros and cons. This was a poisoned chalice. If he drank it, he might be investigated for procedural violations and attacked by the party’s fundamentalists. But if he didn’t drink, he would die right now—politically speaking.’

The tower cranes outside the window, the bustling workers—in his mind, they had all transformed into a flowing tide of votes.

Before this massive torrent, so-called legislative procedure and so-called fiscal discipline were as fragile as paper.

"Alright."

Higgins let out a long breath and slumped onto the sofa.

"Give me the draft of the bill."

Ron took the thick document out of his drawer.

"That’s more like it, Jeff."

"Welcome to the Pennsylvania Industrial Revival Alliance."

"You’ll find the view here is much better than in Harrisburg."

Higgins took the document. It felt heavy in his hands.

’He knew he had become a hostage.’

’A hostage to this enormous, insane beast of self-interest.’

’But he had no other path to take.’

’Because if he wasn’t a hostage, he’d be a corpse.’

"By the way,"

Ron added from behind him.

"There’s a ribbon-cutting ceremony next week. I saved a good spot for you."

Higgins didn’t look back, just gave a dismissive wave.

He walked out of the office and watched the clerks bustling back and forth in the hallway.

They were all busy.

The entire system was forcing the bill’s passage by "acting as if the bill has already passed."

It was downright magical realism.

But this was Pennsylvania now.

A world where the usual rules no longer applied.