The operator considered playing hero when state officials began arriving by the dozen. He could have jumped up and shouted that they were walking into a trap. The problem was, the man with the electrocution gun was inside the secure area now, sitting on a bench, reading
Well, what good would it do, anyway?
He played his part perfectly. He pretended to study the dead monitor. He nodded at the secretary of state and the new lieutenant governor and the various state senators and representatives that he recognized.
Had to have been thirty or forty men and women who passed through by him and entered the suite of offices from which the State of New Jersey was governed.
“Are you going to kill them all?” he asked mournfully when they were alone again.
The gunman looked up from the comics. “Don’t I wish.”
The large meeting room was never designed to hold so many people. As soon as he walked through the doors. Senator Baskin knew something was very wrong.
By the time he turned to leave again, the doors were being closed. The New Jersey state troopers, charged with the personal safety of the governor, removed their personal weapons and stood guard at the doors.
“Open it,” Baskin demanded, and felt room go silent around him.
The guard said nothing. Baskin reached around him and put his hand on the doorknob, but then he felt the muzzle of the weapon against his temple.
Senator Baskin let go of the doorknob. The worry among the New Jersey officials became fear. One of the young representatives lost his cool.
“What’s going on? Tell me what’s going on! You can’t keep us prisoners! Are you going to kill us? Talk to me!”
The trooper didn’t say a word, but he swung his weapon in a long arc that brought the base of the hand grip into the representative’s head. The young man bounced off the wall and sprawled on his face, motionless.
The trooper looked around questioningly. The room was silent until the governor entered through his private entrance, hands cuffed in front of him, feet in shackles, mouth covered in gray tape. He was followed by a look-alike governor, who steered him with little nudges on the shoulder.
“Hello,” said the fake governor. “Thanks for coming. I see Lansing lost his cool.”
“What’s the meaning of this?” demanded Lieutenant Governor Ortega, just eight months on the job. “Release Hermani.”
“All will be explained when the governor arrives,” said the fake governor.
“Another imitator?” Ortega snapped.
“No. The real deal. The true governor of the colony of New Jersey.”
There was a sudden hiss of quiet talk among the captives. Lieutenant Governor Ortega gritted his teeth with suppressed anger when he understood what was happening.
The recolonization attacks. They had succeeded in Africa. They succeeded in one of the northern territories called Newfoundland. “You’re crazy,” Ortega seethed. “You might be able to push over some Third World countries, but there’s no way you’re going to overthrow part of the United States of America!”
“Just watch me do it, Alfonzo.”
All eyes turned. The former governor of New Jersey, Oscar Dowzall, strode in via the governor’s private entrance, wearing a mask of perfect confidence.
“You’re a lunatic, Dowzall,”. Ortega said with bitter amusement. “A stunt like this will never work here. This is America.”
“This is Her Majesty’s New Jersey Colony. It has been occupied illegally.”
“It’s been independent since 1776!” Ortega cried.
“There’s no statute of limitations on the theft of the properties of the British Empire. Although it was occupied and exploited for almost two and a half centuries by the United States government, it never ceased to be, legally, a colony belonging to the Crown.”
More murmurs. Ortega snorted. “That’s just stupid.”
Dowzall shrugged. “I’ll let you know something just as stupid. You are all criminals. You have served the occupying United States government, allowing this aggressive nation to further exploit and control this territory. As you are all citizens of New Jersey, you are worse than criminals. You are traitors.”
More consternation. “What? Then so are you, Dowzall!”
“Yes. I was. But I repented, and I made an oath to never again commit such acts against Her Majesty. I promised never again to give aid to the enemy.”
“The U.S. is your enemy?” Ortega was getting exasperated.
“This has always been, legally, a British colony. As a knight of England, under the provisions and obligations put forth by the Proclamation of the Continuation of the British Empire of 1655, 1702, 1709 and 1742, I’m reestablishing British control. As the new governor, I’m prepared to offer every person in this room full amnesty in return for your sworn allegiance.”
“You must be kidding,” Ortega said.
