Chapter 6: State of Arizona - Cochise Government
The sprawling camp outside of Bisbee is dirty, noisy, and chaotic. Men and women laugh, drink, and sing, brawls break out all over, people laugh and chatter over cooking fires, and one can hear the sound of gunshots, revving motorcycles, and the noise of dogs, cattle, and horses. My guide, Chuck Warren, leads me through the maze, often shouting to be heard above the ruckus.
Yes, ma'am, it's a riot of a good time! Ain't no place like a cattle fair to swap anything you want to swap. Horses, cattle, trucks, you name it!
[This is a cattle fair?]
Why, yes, ma'am! Bisbee is the place to hold the biggest cattle fair in the state, on account of the Senate bein' in session.
[Who's meeting in the Senate?]
All the big landowners, the cattle barons and the bosses of the military brigades, an' so on. All the bosses get their men to vote for them, so all the head honchos are the ones who meet to work out the nitty-gritty, the borders and the rates of exchange and our trade relations and that. Never seen a ranch hand in the Senate, come to think of it, but what would they know about anything other than staring up the south end of a north-bound steer?
[Why do you claim to be the state of Arizona?]
We're Arizona as it shoulda been! No big government to interfere in our lives, asking for taxes and getting their hands all over our property. That's the state the Founding Fathers intended, before the government started getting too big for its own good, thinking it could boss around its own people!
Above us flies one of the unofficial flags of the Cochise Government - the Gadsden Flag, a coiled rattlesnake above the phrase "Don't Tread on Me".
Well, we're really of the people now! The true people, who live and work the land, and not those liberals in the cities - look where they ended up! Either bones in the desert, or workin' farms and ranches for us!
[Would you say everyone here is equal?]
Shit, course we're equal. If you got a gun and horse, you can go anywhere, work for any man, even join one of the Brigades. If you're on foot you're free to walk, of course, and we got a few towns of our own, though nowhere near as big as in the Old World. You can get a job there if you're too soft to rope cattle.
Yeah you got the big bosses, but they're the ones who own the land and worked hard for it, and shit if you really want to be your own boss you'll set out to the frontier and homestead, get some workers of your own, and then maybe one day you'll be a Senator, too!
Shit, I know women who can rope cattle with the best of them, and draw a faster gun than any cowboy. Frontier gals ain't no weaker sex!
[How did things end up like this?]
Well, back after the Old World went up in smoke, you got loads and loads of refugees coming this way. Well, this corner of the state had its fair share of National Guardsmen, Army bases, and Border Guards, and they did the right thing and fended them off before they could swamp us. Sure a lotta people got shot or turned back, but we let through a few, if they could prove they were useful. You got the same thing all over the state, don't know why we should feel sorry for staying alive.
[What about the founding of your government?]
As it happened, the big landowners, the cattles bosses and so on, got together and started splitting up the refugees and folks from the cities, moving people around to where they were needed, on farms and ranches and so on, and eventually they decided to sign the Cochise Treaty, which established our new government, to coordinate everything. Ain't no big story there, it's just how it happened.
As for the military men, they turned into the Brigades, they keep the peace in their little corners of the territory and any man can join up so long as he can shoot straight, and they're tough bastards, you better believe it.
A pack of motorcycle racers speed by in a cloud of dust.
[
Where do you get your oil?]
Oh, trade with Flagstaff. It comes here by drips and drabs, but there's always some coming in from somewhere. We pay good for it, too, cattle and cotton and whatever we get from salvaging the Corpse City. Whew-ee, that's an adventure and a half, shootouts with wild raiders and scavengers. A lot of our boys used to go in to prove their grit - you know how they can be, thinking with their dicks. The real hard cases sign on with the salvage companies as hired guns.
Somewhere there are more gunshots, followed by a loud commotion of angry men which soon dies down.
[Things seem...exciting around here.]
Shit, life is like a good stew, no good without a little spice. Cattle raids, border disputes, hunting for outlaws, adventuring in the Corpse City, just carrying on feuds with the neighbors...
If you want excitement, yeah we got our fair share of it, if you can stomach it. Otherwise, and this is a saying out here, there's a desk waiting for you in Flagstaff.
Chuck stops and cracks open a metal container of some indescribable alcoholic beverage and takes a swig before raising it towards the eastern horizon in a toast.
As for me? Out there, where the Virgin Earth is, that's where I'm gonna build my plot of land one day. My own ranch with my own ranch hands and milk maids to boss around, maybe a wife and a litter of kids. There's a whole world out there, and we're the men who're gonna own it.
