Season 1, Episode 6 - The Tree Plot XI - "The Economics Lesson"

The more Clayton saw of the Coleridge mansion, the more it reminded him of his youth.

Eos and I would’ve wiped this place clean, he thought with a small smile as Coleridge led them into the living room. He chucked a log of wood into the fireplace, then spread his arms wide. “Well, this is mi casa.”

Clayton and Hanai looked around. The living room seemed as large as a lobby, with foreign red rugs and golden candlesticks. Clayton helped himself and sat in a cushioned chair near the fireplace; he sighed in relief as the cushion wrapped him in its soft embrace.

He glanced up and saw a large portrait on one of the blue walls.

“Him? That’s my namesake - the original Lionel Coleridge,” Coleridge explained. The original wore a military uniform and various medals decorated his broad chest, giving him a regal look in his portrait; Coleridge mocked his pose, though it was less effective since he currently wore pajamas and a nightcap.

“Goddamn, Coleridge,” Clayton said. “I knew your family was on the wealthier side but you got quite a nice place here.” He smirked. “I never would’ve expected it. You don’t really give that impression.”

Coleridge ahem’d and adjusted the collar of his pajamas. “Yes, yes. I may dress like a commoner, but my mannerisms speak like royalty.”

“Must run in the family,” Hanai supposed without a hint of sarcasm, nodding up at the original Lionel.

Coleridge followed his gaze. “The big guy up there was my grandfather. He was a colonel in the Presidential Restoration. After the war, he moved up here and ever since then, our family has served in the military. People really oughta remember that I’ll be a general or admiral or air force equivalent of that one day - I’ll be the one who decides who gets sent on the suicide charges.”

As Coleridge started shadow-boxing his inner demons away, the puffball at the end of his nightcap bouncing with each strike, Clayton and Hanai glanced at each other.

Well, his address and background information about his family’s income and all that checks out, Clayton supposed. Now, all we need to do is meet with family-

“Lionel, dearest!” a pleasant voice called out. A woman with long black hair stepped into the room carrying a plate of biscuits. “I have snacks for you and your lady friend-”

She stopped when she realized Clayton and Hanai were in the room. “Oh, did you bring guests as well?”

Clayton nodded. “Heck yeah, Mom, your biscuits are the best. Oh, and these are some guys from the Academy, Clayton and Hanai. They gave us a house call.”

The two waved and Mrs. Coleridge smiled. “My dear Lionel has told me all about you. Clayton, I hope those bullies Lionel drove off for you aren’t giving you any more trouble. And Hanai, I hope your relationship with the wonderful student Lionel set you up with is going strong!”

Clayton and Hanai gave unsurprised glances at Coleridge, who had a desperate look on his face.

Hanai sighed. “Our anniversary is coming up.”

Clayton hooked his arm around Lionel and gave him a playful noogie that wasn’t quite playful at the end. “And Coleridge here is always looking out for me.”

Mrs. Coleridge set the plate of biscuits down and clapped. “That’s wonderful. I’ll fetch Mr. Coleridge - I’m sure you’d like to speak with him.”

Clayton and Hanai nodded, since they would indeed like to speak with him.

When Mrs. Coleridge departed down a hallway, Coleridge subtly stepped away from the room as well, away from Clayton and Hanai’s blank stares. “I’m gonna…I’m just gonna check on my girl.”

That left Clayton and Hanai alone for a moment.

“Nice family,” Hanai supposed.

They heard heavy footsteps coming from down the hall, and then Mr. Coleridge entered the room. A long pipe hanged from the side of his mouth, rounding out a grizzled-looking face. He had gray hair in the process of balding and wore the uniform of an Androscoggin MP.

“Jesus, just got home and didn’t even have time to change,” he grumbled. He looked Clayton and Hanai up and down. “So, two Academy students show up unannounced all the way up here? Must be having trouble at your school.”

Clayton and Hanai looked at each other, unsure of what to say.

Mr. Coleridge cracked a grin. “I work for the Military Police. Checking out the addresses and the like is the name of the game.”

He ushered Clayton and Hanai down the hallway and then into a dining room area. Mr. Coleridge sat at the head of a long wooden table, with Clayton and Hanai taking up spots down the line. Moonlight shone in through the window and the white curtains at the edges of it. An electric light on the ceiling shone down on them from above.

Mr. Coleridge sat easily, smoking at his pipe. Clayton and Hanai’s orders were to talk with the family and see if anything was out of the ordinary. Coleridge definitely didn’t lie about his address and background - now it was time to see if anything seemed odd about the family. Coleridge himself and Mrs. Coleridge checked out, but Mr. Coleridge seemed like a whole different animal.

“Things have been tough at your Academy recently,” Mr. Coleridge supposed, taking the initiative in the conversation. “Spies and smuggling rings and then the State Police raid. Let me guess - you’re trying to flush out any rats within your walled district, am I right?”

He let out a ring of smoke. “And, for some reason, you suspect my son, Lionel Coleridge the Third, to be a rat.”

Clayton and Hanai gulped and kept quiet.

Mr. Coleridge slammed a palm into the table and started laughing. “My son, a spy? I love the kid to death but he couldn’t keep a secret if his life depended on it! He has a bigger mouth than even I do!”

As Mr. Coleridge kept laughing, Clayton supposed he had a point. Coleridge was a notorious braggart. However, when Clayton saw the scrunched look on Hanai’s forehead, he realized his friend wasn’t as convinced. Still though, they weren’t there to levy any accusations - just to gather information.

“May I ask you some questions, then?” Hanai said. Clayton nodded along, following Hanai’s line of thinking - if Coleridge was indeed a spy for New York, it’s entirely possible that it wasn’t of his own volition. Or rather, somebody older and more experienced gave him orders.

Mr. Coleridge just shrugged and leaned back in his chair.

“Do you have any connections to the Fore River Military Police?” Hanai asked.

Once again, Clayton found himself grateful for Hanai’s presence - he knew the right kind of questions to ask. The New York spy worked with the Dorrites who worked with the Fore River Military Police. If Coleridge was the spy, then information about the Academy could be passed from Coleridge to his father, who could then pass it on to the Fore River MPs using his connections.

“Can’t say I do,” Mr. Coleridge answered. Clayton listened closely as he spoke - there would be a difference in the vocal vibrations carried through the air based on telling the truth versus telling a lie. Clayton detected no such vibrations and supposed Mr. Coleridge was either a great poker player or told the truth.

“I’ll give ‘em credit, though,” he admitted. “They’re good at playing the game down there.”

“What’s the game you keep referring to?” Hanai asked.

In the splitting image of his son, Mr. Coleridge spread his arms wide. “The game. Call it what you like - politics, business - it’s the game. Unlike your Elizabeth Pond MPs, both the Androscoggin MPs and the Fore River MPs are the civilian government for their areas. My Captain is Androscoggin’s unofficial mayor, as is Captain Firmino for Fore River.”

Mr. Coleridge touched the patch on his shoulder. “I may be a Military Police officer, but my duties include overseeing public works around the Steel Works in the west part of the city. All those roads and infrastructure - that’s me.”

Clayton recalled seeing all those chimneys on their arrival in Androscoggin, a constant stream of black smoke into the sky.

“Now, there is a key difference between the MPs here and in Fore River,” Mr. Coleridge explained as he repacked his pipe. “The Steel Works are owned by the State Police. They got eyes and ears everywhere here, so we don’t poke our heads out. But the Fore River Military Police? They got ties with both the State Police and the Institute. That means they can play them off each other. That means they can be ambitious.”

Mr. Coleridge let the last word hang in the air for a moment.

Ambitious enough to allow the Dorrites to build an underground base beneath their district, Clayton supposed.

Mr. Coleridge took a long drag. “And your Academy plays the game too. You got a school principal serving as the civilian government for an entire district.”

Clayton remembered how the Academy’s wealth used to burn a fire in him. But now - the Academy’s resources and power was just another fact of life for him.

Mr. Coleridge saw the nonchalant looks on their faces about it. “You two really don’t know what your Academy did, do you?”

That caught Clayton by surprise. He shared a small glance with Hanai, who looked equally confused.

Mr. Coleridge gave a wry grin as he continued. “Do you even know why the world economy collapsed?”

Clayton meekly shrugged.

“The Asian stock markets collapsed two years ago, taking the rest of the world along with it,” Hanai answered.

That was the extent of Clayton’s knowledge, too. Or, perhaps, this was the extent of New England’s knowledge. The economy collapsed, that much was true. The reason never seemed to be pinned down in the media, and even Clayton wasn’t sure if it could be summed up in a single sentence. It was always “the economy collapsed” in the papers, with the “why” usually being summed as the “plutocratic greed of New York and the Unified Pact”.

Mr. Coleridge raised a finger and circled in the air. “Let’s rewind the clocks a little. Sixteen years ago. By this time, the Great Asian War has been over for nearly a century and the Pan-Asian League has finally brought itself out of the Stone Age. Meanwhile, Europe and North America have blown themselves to bits as the European Exchange and First American War come to an end. All that warfare has left them without money - but Asia has money.”

“So that’s why the global economy could collapse when the Asian stock markets did,” Hanai realized. “Because Asia sent funding everywhere.”

Mr. Coleridge nodded. “Exactly. Asia bankrolled the rebuilding of Europe and North America. Europe recovered first and soon began making money by spending money as well. By the end of the Quinetucket Years, New England was in a terrible crisis that resulted in Pulaski coming to power. Pulaski used European loans to pay back New York war reparations which New York used to pay back European loans which everybody used to pay back Asian loans. You see? The whole thing is connected.”

The glow of his pipe illuminated his rueful smile. “But here’s the secret about New England. You’ve seen what New York makes - New York Minutes, Staten Suihankis. They actually make things people can buy and sell. But New England…do you know what New England’s economy depends on?”

“We sell guns,” Clayton chimed in. “And lumber.”

“And knowledge,” Hanai added. “Knowledge about the Rddhi.”

Mr. Coleridge let out an amused sigh. “And there’s the kicker. That’s literally it. That’s all New England provides for both itself and the world. War materials, lumber, and Rddhi knowledge. War materials don’t make money. Tanks don’t go out and make money - they just sit there and depreciate. Same with ammunition and rifles. And you can’t base a modern industrial economy off of lumber alone.”

He saw the look on Hanai’s face. “That leaves Rddhi knowledge, right? Endless possibilities. Yet…have you ever noticed any trains running on Rddhi? Rddhi-powered factories?”

“There’s water users and air users that keep the city environment clean,” Clayton recalled. “As the mills left the Pond, they had me and other air users manipulate the air to clean it up.”

“Not bad,” Mr. Coleridge admitted. “But that’s not a national, industrial economy. As an MP, I’m a little more clued into the situation than you two - since the Rddhi schools wouldn’t want the country knowing.”

Clayton and Hanai gave each other confused looks once again.

“All that Asian money that flooded the market,” Mr. Coleridge said. “Most of it was tied up in speculation. Speculation that the Rddhi could change the world. The boom times that ended two years ago were a result of speculation in American Rddhi investments. But the word itself gives itself away - speculation. There’s no guarantee of success.”

He mimed a sphere with his hands. “A Rddhi bubble was created out of this speculation. But then…it turns out that the low numbers of Rddhi users meant that transforming an entire industrial economy into one based on the Rddhi was out of the question. Oil and gas are still more efficient means of powering factories and the like. But the real kick in the pants was the revelation that Rddhi powers don’t work outside of the former United States.”

Clayton nodded. Well, I knew that, at least. The Rddhi mutation only appears here since the solar flare that caused the Unleashing struck the United States.

Mr. Coleridge took a long drag on his pipe. “It’s not that the mutation only appears here. It’s that the Rddhi can’t be used at all once you leave the former United States.”

That did take Clayton by surprise. He glanced at Hanai and found him looking equally as wide-eyed.

“A research paper came out two years ago, the culmination of nearly a decade of research,” Mr. Coleridge explained. “Once you leave the continental shelf of North America, Rddhi users lose access to their powers. Once you cross the border into a Canadian warlord state or Mexico, Rddhi users lose access to their powers. As far as we know, Rddhi usage isn’t tied to blood per se - it’s tied to geography.”

Things went quiet for a moment as Clayton and Hanai ruminated on that.

“Asia planned on bringing soldiers and engineers here in their Legation Cities, unlocking the Rddhi there, and bringing them home,” Mr. Coleridge concluded. “Over a billion people live in Asia, far more than here. The issue with the low number of Rddhi users would soon become a non-factor. Except, nobody could make it back to Asia with their Rddhi power intact. Ever since Rddhi users started traveling abroad, the fear of this unfortunate truth was always there, but the speculators ignored it. But once the cold hard evidence came out thanks to that research paper, that’s how you get an Asian stock market crash. That’s how you get a worldwide global depression.”

“We go to a Rddhi academy, though,” Clayton pointed out. “Why didn’t we know all of this?”

“The Rddhi schools covered up their own involvement,” Mr. Coleridge explained. “As did many of the speculators. All of them across the former United States tried. The paper met roadblocks and even a murder or two. But the truth made it back to Asia. However, thanks to our textbooks, radios, and newsreels, New England only knows that the stock markets collapsed, not why.”

Another quiet came over them. Hanai wiped his glasses while Clayton ran a hand through his hair, trying to get his thoughts sorted out.

The Academy really did this?

“Why are you telling us this?” Hanai finally asked.

Mr. Coleridge shrugged. “I don’t care anymore. This country is bound for collapse. What you’ve seen in Androscoggin will soon appear across New England. Our economy is unsustainable. We rely heavily on Europe, Asia, and Africa for food, medicine, raw materials, natural resources, funds, you name it. Foreign support props up our economy. We’ve already seen some retraction when the depression hit. All it would take is foreign powers to stop supplying us for the entire country to go up in smoke..”

He leaned in closer to the two of them and spoke at a whisper. “Our government’s collapsing. The State Police raided your district. And where the hell is President Pulaski? Have you heard anything from him recently? On the radio? On the television? When's the last time he made a public appearance?”

Clayton and Hanai shook their heads. Pulaski appeared everywhere in the form of his propaganda posters, but as for the man himself...now that they really thought about it, where was he?

Mr. Coleridge leaned back in his seat. “All it takes one stupid move on our part for foreign countries to take their support away. And once that happens, it’s over for us. That’s why I sent Lionel to the Academy. When the middle collapses into elite and poor, I want him to be on the elite side-”

The kitchen plunged in darkness as the lights went out. Clayton and Hanai flinched, but Mr. Coleridge’s pipe glowed after a moment, and they saw him sitting there, sitting calmly. Each breath made the small glow of light move up and down his sardonic face.

“This happens all the time,” he said. “And every time there’s a blackout, I wonder if this will be the time the lights don’t come back on. When you return to Narragansett, I suggest you think about what will happen when the lights start going off there, too.”