Chapter Twenty-Five: Cabinet Battle #1

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Jefferson's POV

This is big. Possibly a pivotal point in my career. But Tom, I hear you ask, aren't you nervous?

Not in the slightest. I'm going to whip this immigrant so hard, she's not going to remember where she came from.

As usual, the man himself starts things off. "Ladies and gentlemen," cries President Washington, "you could've been anywhere in the world tonight, but instead you're here with us in New York City! Are you ready for a cabinet meeting?"

A roar answers his mostly rhetorical question, and the excitement courses through my body like liquid fire. I'm going to destroy this woman who thinks she's got a place in this room.

"The issue on the table: Secretary Hamilton's plan to assume state's debts and assume a national bank. Secretary Jefferson, you have the floor, sir."

He gestures to me and James, and we stand and make our way to the middle of the room. I straighten by purple coat, and, clearing my throat, start out strong.

"'Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.' We fought for these ideals, we shouldn't settle for less. These are wise words, enterprising men," I shoot a pointed look at the only woman in the room, "quote 'em. Don't act surprised, you guys, 'cause I wrote them!"

I take a moment to soak in all the praise and applause before continuing, focusing my efforts on Hamilton herself. "Oh, but Hamilton forgets. Her plan would have the government assume state's debts. Now place your bets as to who that benefits. The very seat of government where Hamilton sits!"

Having traveled the length of the room, I aim a vicious kick to her seat, and she leaps up, her face flushing red. "Not true--" she starts, but I use my cane to push her back down on her seat. It's still my turn.

"Ooh, it the shoe fits, wear it!" I scoff, turning away from her and facing my audience instead. "If New York's in debt, why should Virginia bear it? Uh, our debts are paid, I'm afraid, don't tax the South 'cause we've got it made in the shade."

There are shouts, but I soldier on. "In Virginia we plant seeds in the ground. We create. You just want to move our money around. This financial plan's an outrageous demand and it's too many damn pages for any man to understand!" I say, almost bored as I flip through the papers. On the word 'man' I toss them over my shoulder, and she hurries to collect them, glaring swords at me when I deliberately step on one.

"Stand with me in the land of the free!" I yell, the crowd behind me. "And pray to God we never see Hamilton's candidacy! Look," I say, bringing down the volume, "when Britain taxed our tea, we got frisky. Imagine what gon' happen when you try to tax our whisky."

As I take my seat again with Madison breathing hard next to me, a single person in the back screams, "That's my alcohol!"

"Thank you, Secretary Jefferson," says the President, sounding anything but grateful. More like reluctant, or exasperated. "Secretary Hamilton, your response."

She stands up, brushes her hair out of her face, then says politely, "Thomas, that was a real nice declaration." Then her expression warps and she yells, "Welcome to the present, we're running a real nation! Would you like to join us, or stay mellow doing whatever the hell it is you do in Monticello?" she asks, dancing around in mockery of me. I stiffen. This is war.

"If we assume the debts the union gets a new line of credit, a financial diuretic. How do you not get it? If we're aggressive and competitive, the union gets a boost. You'd rather give it a sedative?"

Jeers and stomps greet me, and I feel small. This nobody has no right--

She cuts off my train of thought. "A civics lesson from a slaver. Hey neighbour," she says, a hard light entering her eyes as she thinks of nights long ago with old friends, "your debts are paid 'cause you don't pay for labour. 'We plant seeds in the south. We create!'" Hamilton mocks me, using my own words as weapons against me. "Yeah, keep ranting. We know who's really doing the planting."

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