Alongside Night(26)

“Why?”

“A number of reasons,” Mr. Gross said. “Being an underground organization, the Cadre cannot sue in a government court if someone breaks a contract or otherwise damages them. Also, the Cadre do not care to use gangster tactics to enforce their contracts. Broken arms, setting fires, murder—this is all that’s left when one is deprived of a peaceful method of settling disputes. And such methods are—in any case—against agoric principles. The Cadre cannot set up their own court—

dragging people into it the way the government does—because such a court would be—and would be called—a kangaroo court. It would not have the mystique of having a State behind it, and nobody would respect its decisions.”

“Wait a second, wait a second,” Elliot interrupted. “You’re telling me that this Independent Arbitration Group, that they’re not part of the Cadre?”

“Of course not. How could they be? It’s a perfectly legitimate arbitration organization. Check with the Better Business Bureau, if you don’t believe me.”

“Then how can a ‘perfectly legitimate’ organization have an illegal organization as a client?”

“It would be easy enough for the Cadre to get around this by simply having board members file Submissions in their own names—leaving the Cadre as an organization out of such matters—but, as it happens, the government wants the Cadre to Alongside Night

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have a Submission on file.”

“What?”

“Muhammad hasn’t come to the Mountain,” continued Mr. Gross, “so occasionally the Mountain goes to Muhammad—

meaning that the government has been notably unsuccessful in dragging the Cadre into statist courts and prefers having channels available for claims the government itself wants to file against them. I would be surprised if the federal government hasn’t already demanded arbitration over the firebombing of its FBI offices.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Oh, I’m quite serious.”

“But that’s crazy,” Elliot said. “First off, if the Cadre people are anarchists, why would they ever agree to meet peacefully with their enemies in the government?”

“The Cadre have no choice in the matter. The Submission clearly reads that the Submittor agrees to arbitrate any dispute with any one else who has filed one. If they did not, their Submission would likely be revoked.”

“But why don’t their prosecutors involved simply arrange to have their police arrest any Cadre people who show up for the trial?”

“‘Hearing,’“ corrected Mr. Gross. “There are no formal charges; only litigation of damages. But to answer, the Cadre take no chances; all such hearings are conducted in countries that don’t have extradition treaties with the United States.”

“Wait a second, wait a second,” Elliot interrupted. “If the government can sue the Cadre this way, why can’t the Cadre sue the government? They’re revolutionaries; they must have complaints against it.”

“They have sued, but there are practical limits. For one thing, the Cadre cannot sue the government as a corporate entity, only certain individuals in the government. More importantly, an arbitral decree is only as binding as the parties to it can be 92

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compelled to make it. On the countereconomy, an arbitral decree is the basis for a boycott and ostracism against anyone who doesn’t comply with it—a ‘casting out’ that is virtually equivalent to being turned naked over to one’s enemies. In this case, all the Cadre can ever win—practically speaking—is the small fee the arbiter requires both parties to put up as a compliance bond—and if the Cadre force the ante higher, the government will refuse to play. The federal State is not about to stand for any private arbitral decree that would do real damage to any of its employees; they would be protected by invoking ‘sovereign immunity.’ And the Cadre have no way of forcing the government to pay up: in all-out war the Cadre would lose hands down.”

“Then how does the Cadre expect to win?”

“They hope to starve the government to death.”

“Nobody’s going to starve here,” said Phillip, entering the living room. “Dinner is served.” He disappeared back into the kitchen.

Elliot picked up the pen and signed the General Submission to Arbitration.

“You must leave for Aurora. Tonight.”

The Grosses and Elliot were at the dining table, finishing off Swedish meatballs with rice and a good German Liebfraumilch.

“Aurora?”

“A code name, of course,” Mr. Gross continued. “I can tell you that it’s somewhere on the Eastern seaboard. Anything more than that is on a need-to-know basis restricted to the Cadre.”