[b]Yerevan, Armenia[/b]

Sunshine was something that seemed to be in abundance recently - a clear patch of weather had arrived over the Armenian Highlands and had made for about a week of beautiful, warm Spring days. President Assanian had been taking advantage of it by reading on his apartment's balcony overlooking the flowing Hrazdan River running through the center of the city. At the office, his windows were open to let the warm breeze in while he worked on the various things that postwar Armenia needed. Every day, his desk was filled with reports on the economy, the infrastructure, the population. A census had been authorized about a week ago to begin conducting surveys of the country and a Census Agency was established under the Ministry of the Interior in an empty office building just blocks away from Republican Square. They would be heading out in the summer to every corner of the country to gather data on the citizens. It made Assanian and his Ministers giddy, in fact: they were enough of a "real country" to have a census and a complex economy. The Ministry of the Economy was growing as well with analysts and planners to help collect data on the economic situation of Armenia that had long been hypothesized to be improving. The revolution had taken them out of the draconian economic policies of the Ottomans and had allowed the government to develop key critical infrastructures and industries before auctioning them off to civilian companies. The economic experts - some of them secretly sent from Polish and Persian government agencies - worked out trade deals and courses of action to support a healthy economy. Policies would need to be enacted in the future, of course.

However, Assanian was trying to release government control and decided early on that he would send the laws through Parliament to be voted on. His immense wartime authority was to be slowly eased out of in a series of democratic reforms. But that would come later, like his specific laws. For now, Assanian had to meet with the director of the National Recovery Agency to deal with the situation of building the critical infrastructure to allow growth across the country. Building and repairing roads, railroads, pipelines, power grids, and sources of energy were on the agenda today. Another stark difference from Assanian's role as a wartime leader was his new insistence on creating instead of destroying. The development of Armenia would go on like he promised, while the immediate foreign threats had been diminished. It wasn't a glamorous part of his job: it was boring meetings instead of valiant hours in the war room planning and thinking and preparing with the General Officers doing the same. Instead, Assanian was to be drinking some sort of alcoholic beverage - lightly, of course - while his windows were open to let the pleasant warmth in. There wasn't even a breeze to chill things. It was probably the best weather that Assanian had felt in months. A pleasant day for a pleasant meeting: they were about to turn swords into plowshares.

The NRA director arrived precisely five minutes early, knocking on the door to be let in by an Army guard in his green service uniform. The director - his name was Aram Terzian - had combed-back black hair and a nose that dominated his dark face, all while he wore cream khakis and a blue blazer. A lapel pin bearing the Army Engineer Corps logo was pinned to his collar, reflecting his prior military service as an engineering officer who had defected from the Turkish military in 1977. There was no tie either, his shirt unbuttoned at the top in blatant defiance of formal dress. As he closed the door behind him, Terzian apologized: "I had just gotten back from a breakfast with my wife's family, sir. Couldn't find the time to change into something more fitting, you see. Sorry about the casual apparel."

Assanian shook his head. "It's not a problem, director. In fact, I appreciate it. Do you know how hard it is to tell people apart when they all dress in the same way? Black suit, red tie! Who the hell is who?"

"Is that the explanation for your dress, Mister President?" Terzian joked. Assanian looked down at his purple tie and inspected it with his left hand.

"I'm the President," Assanian answered. "I can do whatever I want, so I decided to get a purple tie."

"That's great!" replied Terzian with a chuckle. "I hate to get dressy, myself. All of those suits are expensive and they're uncomfortable. They're too cold in the winter and too hot in the summer, and they stiffen you up like a statue. If I can't bend my arm in a suit to pick up something, why bother?"

"Well, you have to look professional. The public likes that, but they also like it when you're casual. Professional on the job, but friendly and down-to-Earth when you're not. Anyways, would you care for a drink?"

"Sure. What do you have?" asked Terzian as Assanian handed him a glass. He clinked it down onto the table and withdrew bottles of various beverages from the cabinet. Terzian picked his choice - clear vodka - and poured it before placing the bottle back onto the desk. The two toasted to the country before downing them. Upon putting downing their glasses, the two men immediately set them down and smoothed out ruffles in their clothing. With the niceties exchanged, it was time to get to business. Terzian had with him a leather briefcase that contained several documents: maps, diagrams, plans, spreadsheets. A look at the macroeconomic infrastructure of Armenia. Anything that was to be administered by the government like highways and railways and pipelines were to be built by Terzian's NRA.

"So, Mister President, I assume that we're eager to finish up this meeting. I've been stuck in a lot of these and I can tell you that they're not very fun," joked the director as he wiped his nose with a handkerchief.

"It's fine. It takes as long as it takes. So what do you have for me, Mister Terzian?"

The director hoisted his briefcase to the desk and set it down, opening the brass latches. The case creaked open as Terzian rooted around inside for what would begin to be the plans for a highway system. After a minute, he found them buried at the bottom. Almost a half-dozen maps alone, accompanied by a list of existing roads - further subdivided into roads that needed repair or enlargement and roads that were fine - and roads that would need to be built. Data such as length, quality, width, capacity, terrain, and accessibility accompanied each road. By the roads that were needed to be built, an estimated construction time was listed. Assanian looked over at the documents as Terzian withdrew them: an individual report for manpower was beside the pile of maps and data. At the bottom, there was the pricetag for each variant of the highway system.

"So what we have here, Mister President, are some plans drawn up by our engineers and architects at the NRA," began Terzian as he slid the folders over to Assanian. The President eyed the numbered packets and scratched the back of his head before looking back up at the director in front of him. "Several different variants of the plan have been proposed based on cost, construction time, predicted use, and other variables. As you can see, each folder has a map with the data on it. However, last year we asked the military for their advice at what would be considered the most essential roadways and infrastructure in a unified Greater Armenia. Their results were given to us and named the Konstantou Map after the Colonel who wrote the report. These are considered good bases for the blueprints for our highway system. Essential for national defense. The Konstantou Map has been stapled to every folder on the back to provide a comparison."

Terzian took a map out of a folder to show as an example: each road was highlighted in a different color on a blue-to-red scheme to show predicted traffic and usage, with red being the most busy. Busier roads would be given more priority in construction and were going to have to be finished earlier than the less important roads. "Now, with respect, I understand that you didn't go to engineering school," the NRA director said cautiously.

"You're right. I have no idea what the hell any of this means," agreed Assanian with a humorous twinkle in his eye. Terzian let out a small breath of relief that his statement hadn't offended the most important man in the country.

"Well, all of this data culminated into our list of suggestions based on all of these factors. The data is here for you to review when you make your decision. We have a suggestion for each public works project as well. Basically, we ranked all of the available plans based on their different attributes and assigned an overall score. Once again, it's entirely up to you and whatever advisers you choose to consult."

Terzian slid the folders over to Assanian's side of the desk and reached down to his briefcase for the other projects.

"And I'm guessing you have everything for the others?" Assanian concluded as he eyed the director.

Terzian nodded, revealing even more of the identical manilla folders. They all bore the project number and a brief title in the same black lettering. He placed them alongside the highway blueprints and leaned back into his chair before launching into an explanation. "Same thing, Mister President. We have one for pipelines, ports, airports, railways, factories, and pretty much anything else you can think of. We've spent three years developing the plans in our Agency. They've been tweaked and ironed out by engineers, economists, and other assorted experts. Many of them are from our foreign friends. We've also been readying our workforce to begin construction on these new projects. I'm sure you know this but last week, for example, Parliament approved your request to send more funds our way out of the War Ministry's budget. Advertisement and educational projects have stirred up some interest in the NRA's employment opportunities... we have an opportunity to put many of our unemployed craftsmen and workers to a steady, safe job with these reforms. It's going to cost a hell of a lot of money, but it'll pay off in the long run. I don't believe that we need to take out extreme loans for this, nor do I believe that we're in any danger of defaulting on them. At least, not yet. We just have to manage this properly."

"Thank you, Director," Assanian said calmly, smiling. He shuffled the folders into one giant stack before putting them in a rack on his desk - he'd have to make copies of them for his cabinet.

"And we have the framework to manage this, correct?"

"We've been steadily developing a system to facilitate these works for the past few years. Military leaders - particularly engineers - are in high demand because they can operate in environments like these. It's been a swords-into-plowshares kind of thing as we seek to give veterans a place to use their organizational skills. And, of course, we have no shortage of a patriotic population willing to actually perform the labor. In fact, many of our managers are conscientious objectors who have acquired experience and have been trained to plan and manage."

"Wonderful," Assanian beamed. "I see that the funds to you are working out."

"I'd hope so, Mister President. I've heard rumors that you plan on equalizing the budget between the War Ministry and us a bit more?"

"My plan," Assanian explained, "is to take money used by the military to do similar things and vest it in NRA - civilian - control. Engineers built their road through the western deserts, so it's your turn to work on it. With the Turks routed and effectively ruined, I don't foresee a major conflict in the near future."

"What about Georgia?"

"You know about Georgia?"

"My wife's cousin is Georgian, sir," the director pointed out while frowning slightly. "After we left Poti the country's been a mess. Someone has to clean it up and, from what I've heard, there have been raids on the warlords in the south and there have been some republican groups starting to rumble."

Assanian smiled and shook his head. "Georgia is complicated," he replied in a typical politician's tone. "I can't discuss specifics as of yet. But if we were to intervene I could assure you that existing forces would be more than enough to handle it. There would be no cuts to the NRA's budget to support another war as grand as the one we just got out of. I can assure you, Director Terzian, that Georgia is not a problem that you should be particularly concerned about."

"Sounds good, sir," Terzian agreed while nodding. "I don't want any more wars. I need the people getting out for the NRA's projects. Their three year enlistment periods should be expiring very soon. It's almost our third anniversary of independence in August."

"When their enlistment periods expire, you can have them if they don't reenlist!" Assanian said with a joking nudge. "We'll have to bring in a new batch of conscripts."

"Do you think that you can modify the conscription system?" asked Terzian meekly after a moment's hesitation.

"What?" came the bewildered reply. It was a change in the conversation that almost gave the President whiplash.

"To allow for certain people - not necessarily just conscientious objectors - to come in to the NRA instead of the military. Just think of it: it's still a patriotic program that's helping the state as much as military service," Director Terzian argued. Then he added: "Swords into plowshares."

Assanian leaned back into his chair and looked at the ceiling. What Terzian was saying was true, but the legislation would need to be pushed through Parliament. Would Parliament agree with a modification to the existing conscription rules? After all, many of them were veterans. Would they see the value in a civilian job, or would they deny the legislation on the grounds that the civilian service option being extended to able-bodied and able-minded men was going to put the Armed Forces of Armenia at a serious disadvantage? Any sane person would choose building roads over the military. Perhaps there needed to be some sort of quota for each: a compromise that would be much easier to sell than the straight option that Terzian proposed. Assanian returned to the real world after musing for a few seconds, and told Terzian that it was a possibility. As long as it could get through Parliament without issue, the law wouldn't be a problem with himself.

"Why send it through Parliament?" Terzian replied suddenly. "You still have emergency powers."

"Technically," Assanian noted. "The war is over. I have to give them up. I believe that I don't want any bad publicity trying to keep them. At this point, Armenia needs a stable government. If I come across as too power-hungry, people will lose their will. We must have them know that they are being led by a just, competent government. So the democratic advances I propose include pushing legislation through Parliament."

"Well, I guess that works," conceded Terzian with another nod. "Depending on what plans that you end up picking, we're going to need a lot of labor. But I believe that this is good for the economy, of course. I firmly believe that if you put money into the economy, you get a return on your investment."

"Of course," Assanian agreed with a shrug. "You pay workers, give them jobs, and they can buy the goods that are produced now."

"Basically. And that money goes to producing more goods that are consumed. It's just a matter of getting that circle started. Of course, it's a very delicate business. We need to be very careful in our handling of this. Particularly with my area of responsibility: the infrastructure. Economies depend on this. They depend on the ability to produce the goods and transport them for sale. Governments depend on the taxes from this infrastructure. It's the base for everything else. In my opinion, this is the most crucial step. You're intelligent, Mister President: I know that you'll make the right decision. I myself know that the Ministry of the Economy is working day and night to develop policy that your administration will put into place. But your policies here will be crucial for the others to succeed. And so with that I give you the blueprints and urge you to make your decision quickly. When's your next cabinet meeting?"

"I can assemble them quickly enough," Assanian replied with a quick glance over to the small black telephone at the corner of his desk, next to a smoldering ashtray and a half-empty bottle of liquor.

"You handled the war excellently, sir. Now we need to handle the peace," Terzian continued, slipping into some sort of lecture as he went more and more off the topic of the meeting. "It's harder in many cases. There is no enemy, but somehow everything is trying to disable you. You can only build, and you cannot destroy that which is threatening you. You are building that wall and can only build it thick enough so that nothing can hurt you. You cannot simply strike back and not need a wall at all, as what would be the easiest option. It is far easier to strike at someone than to endure and harden against their blows for a lifetime. This is what's hard for us veterans to understand. We want to seek out a black-and-white enemy and destroy it. We want to maintain an offensive where our base values are in no danger: we want the fight to be far away from our core, and when it is we can become comfortable and relaxed. Our cities are not being bombed, our civilians are not dying. We have pushed the fight far away. Yet keeping the peace requires a constant struggle to keep balance between conflicting people who also happen to be the same ones you need to protect. It is a constant struggle against outside, intangible forces that one cannot eliminate. We cannot push them far away. We can only harden ourselves against it and take measures to keep our balance, lest these forces knock us off our dainty pedestal and ruin us. We could easily turn into another Russia, another Georgia if we don't plan and execute this correctly. This is what I think makes peace a thousand times more difficult. But it is rewarding, for when you look outside and you see your country thrive, there is no better feeling. And with that, Mister President, I believe we are finished here."

They shook hands shortly thereafter before Terzian left. After the door was shut, Assanian turned back to his desk and the open windows behind it letting in the sunlight. The most crucial part of the reconstruction. The plans - the keys for the future - were sitting on his desk. It was all a matter of choosing the right ones. But he had to ponder Terzian's closing remarks: peace was harder than war, and would require constant upkeep. He went for another drink in the bottle next to the telephone before heading to his bookshelf to read. The plans would wait for tomorrow, when he would call a cabinet meeting in the afternoon. By the end of the week, he'd make his case before Parliament. The NRA was geared and ready to go. It was his approval they needed. They were one step closer to their goals.