Richard was perplexed. Each of the delegates, and lots of them, had displayed not only frowns of doubt but spite, even anger. Yet they had been informed in the invitations that they were free to leave the Congress at any point. But they stayed, sat and listened and scarcely questioned, or vented the ire they seemed to express facially. What will it take to set them off and running? he wondered.
“Article Five! Energy. Power to light, heat, cook and support the communes is to be derived solely from the sun, wind, waves and tide. Hand tools preferred over power tools. Transport is also powered by the sun.”
Applause from the stands, though Anne saw expressions of doubt, even scorn from a tight group of delegates whom she recognized represented or lobbied for the oil, gas, coal and nuclear industries.
Solar power is a good idea, said a suited young man who stood, but it is in its infancy and cannot begin to supply enough energy to heat and cool one house, let alone an entire development or a high-rise complex—er, well, you get the idea And gas and diesel for our—oh, right, no cars or trucks.
Richard replaced Anne, struggling to keep tongue firmly in cheek, “Thank you for your comments, and you are partly correct, sir. Amazingly, solar power is just beginning to interest energy providers. And like most good ideas, they’ve languished for ages behind Congressional committees, feasibility studies, energy subsidies and businesses that ran from the idea of free energy.” He lowered his voice and smiled, “Thankfully we won’t have a profit-driven economy or a government bureaucracy standing in the way!”
Nods in the stands, sour looks below.
“As you’ve heard, we sleep with temperatures between sixty and seventy degrees year-round. But we spend much of the day working outdoors or under the dome which collects heat while it keeps out the cold, with fans balancing the two. Our wind turbine and solar panel array supply us with more energy than we need. In fact, after working out the numbers, we found we could sell part back to the power company. That is, if we had any use for money. Or if there will be a power company, which there won’t.”
The heat from the faces of that small portion of delegates, Richard mused, could turn the commune into a sauna. “I know all this sounds Utopian, but I’d wager the members sitting in the stands can’t wait to get back down to their cool suites!”
A rousing ‘yay’ supported him and he laughed, and once again felt the unseen ‘hook’ to get off-stage. He beat a quick about-face and scooted to his seat obediently, hands in lap—also to laughter as Anne rose. Then to her chagrin, he whipped back up to the mikes “A mere hundred fifty years ago, all sea vessels moved before the wind, great quiet beautiful ships under sail. Some of them are still around, giving young people unforgettable adventures! Sure, they’re slow, hard working, and not all that comfortable. But add solar cells, wind generators, electric motors, and the voyage will still be an adventure but more comfortable.” Mild applause, quizzical looks as he scooted away.
“Article Five . . . energy.” she called out, stifling a grin at her loquacious and (thank heaven) humorous man. There was a show of eager hands raised, but some barely above the knee.
Now a tall, slender gentleman in a grey tailored suit and sedate tie was seen to move swiftly from the dome, across the crescent of celebrities and up to the rostrum.
“Please excuse the interruption but I must leave. I say this to the white eyes with red in them. The earth has much to give. It only asks to live. Further, may I tell you that Richard of Amwell is one of the rarest humans I have had the pleasure to meet and share thoughts with. Goodbye and good luck!”
With that, Chief Running Cloud, aka R. C. Brown III, lifted his leather bag filled with his ceremonial regalia and hastened smartly to his waiting limousine. The reaction was instantaneous; cheers and applause which did not abate—to Richard’s profound embarrassment, realizing it was not for the chief but himself—until Anne pinched him. He jumped to his feet, nodded twice and as quickly sat.
Article Six. The Individual. Just as each tree, each flower is unique within its species, so is each human, and shall be respected as such. Therefore, citizens of the new American Society will neither form nor join separate religious, social, professional, fraternal, sport, military or political entities. Competition is to be discouraged in favor of cooperation.”
The responses came swiftly and loud but when the southern senator stood, the noise quickly abated; if there was any question who was a leader, it was answered.
So, do your commune people living down there believe all that foldee-rol?
“Each of our Amwell members thinks and acts as an individual. And, while you mentioned them, like the immigrants who came and settled this country, they are a very mixed social, political and racial bag!”
Is that so? Do they all think alike? What do they believe?
“Ask them. I daresay you’ll get 147 different answers!”
Laughter followed him to his seat, and the tumult of anger erupted around him.
You are, at one stroke, erasing the great Christian religions?
What about the NFL, my Cowboys?
I’ve been a Republican all my life like my daddy; who am I supposed to listen to?
We are Mormons, now and forever!
You talkin’ ‘bout the Veterans of Foreign Wars or the American Legion?
I was born a Catholic. Where am I to pray, confess my sins?
“In the commune there is a suite, for study, reading, meditation or private prayer. We take away nobody’s faith, only the organized establishment of it.”
I just joined the country club –fifty thousand down!