Carnifex

2/1/49 AC, Atlantis Base, Terra Nova

A messenger was waiting when Bernard Chanet arrived at his office for the morning's work. Standing at attention, the messenger passed over a sealed letter from one of the outlying offices. Chanet was surprised at the origin of the missive; he had observers at several locations in Southern Columbia but was denied any control over the area.

Opening the letter, Chanet paced his office as he read:

Your Excellency:

I've had the most intriguing request and proposition that I thought I must present to you before going any further with it.

A small group of the local regressives from North America, back home, approached me the other day and requested arms. I thought this especially odd in that they are already self sufficient for the primitive arms they tend to use. But, no, it wasn't flintlocks or even percussion weapons they were looking for. They wanted modern, military arms.

On the face of it, I'd have laughed them out of my office. Yet the leader of the group, who is also a political figure of some local importance, had a most compelling argument. He took out a pouch of gold, weighing perhaps two and a half kilograms, and proceeded to pour it out onto my desk. He said to me, "One dozen modern rifles and twelve-thousand rounds of ammunition and it's yours. A thousand times that and a thousand of these are yours."

I, of course, have no weaponry here beyond the few carried by my security staff. Yet it occurred to me that in your position . . .