by G. R. Carter
On the other hand, most of the city council needed to go. The old police chief, too. Uncle Jack figured he could clear about a hundred deadweight residents with no problem. That would be a nice reminder to the others about pulling your own weight – a brutal business, but sometimes you could affect addition by subtraction.
Maps reflecting different sectors of the city covered his office walls. Colors identified blocks leveled by fire, still occupied, no movement detected, and first priority for pacifying. Small labels dotted the map holding the names of gangs that once ruled the neighborhoods. Peacekeeper patrols already searched for the leadership of surviving groups. Rooftop observers helped by providing invaluable information about areas holding visible survivors.
The burnt-out blocks would be farm fields as soon as possible. Tony knew he had to get his own food production started as quickly as possible. Tony already had small scout teams out of town to reestablish contact with farmers who once shipped him illegal food. The hand that holds the food holds the power. He didn’t want his city to be beholden to anyone.
Scavenging abandoned buildings around the city, ARK Peacekeepers secured over six months more food supplies for the group. As long as the population stayed steady, they could make it a year and a half without facing real hunger. Those supplies along with whatever they could get from surviving farmers outside the city should allow them to get their own crops established. ARK’s entire engineering staff worked on that important task right now. Anyone who could be spared from the essential repairs needed for the City Center towers or barricades was assigned to food production.
A spinoff of that was rainwater capture. Although they had pumps to bring water up to the storage tanks on the roof, no one anticipated the lack of water pressure coming from the mains. Now he had people working on devising a system that would pull water from the river. But in the meantime, fresh water for sanitation hung like a specter over ARK’s engineering staff.
Nicole Kelley kept watch over those engineers for Tony. She knew what his plans for the city were; he didn’t hide anything from her. She was just as candid with him, repeatedly making it clear she wasn’t happy about Tony’s callousness toward the ugly parts of survival. Nicole didn’t offer any better ideas for keeping their group alive. But to her Tony seemed too comfortable with the idea of letting other human beings starve and kill each other off. Assigning survivors to work for ARK personnel in a kind of feudal farming system struck her as medieval and cruel. Or at the very least un–American.
Even so, Tony and Nicole spoke little about the few things they disagreed on. Both preferred to spend their evenings discussing new projects for ARK and watching the noctilucent light shows from the roof of Renaissance Tower. Kelley, the person responsible for shielding ARK from Grapevine’s shutdown, insisted that the generators only ran in the buildings in the evenings, from 6 p.m. to 10 p.m. every night. After 10 p.m. only essential hygiene, maintenance and defense functions were allowed.
By the second week, surviving warlords in the smoldering ruins consolidated their power over the remaining populace. Anyone not willing to submit was dead or gone. As ARK Peacekeepers made contact with each gang ruler, they offered a choice. Join ARK, or die. Most of the rulers, having made it through multiple circles of Hell already in their lives, told the ARK teams exactly what they could do with their choice. Once the ruler made that choice, a sniper’s bullet would end their reign.
If a gunfight didn’t ensue, the second-in-command received the same offer. Naturally, they often agreed to the terms. Some groups were too far gone and had to be wiped out. But enough joined to triple the population under ARK control within a short time. Survivors who lived in fear of the warlords often welcomed the sight of the well-uniformed ARK officers like rescuing heroes. The exhausted people received ration bars and fresh water. After regaining some strength, each then received their job assignment, usually digging potato fields. By the time the poor souls realized what serfdom meant, their spirits were crushed. Spoiled and found themselves being forced into daily manual labor. The spark of life was drained; former people now more like farm animals. ARK supervisors would come to call the peasant life “worked, fed and put to bed.”
Truthfully, most seemed thankful to be alive and not under the constant threat of violent death and starvation. The work was slow, and all had to be done by hand. But with so many now working the fields, soon there was enough ground prepared for planting. Anyone with farming or gardening experience was made a supervisor, with the promise of extra rations for themselves or family. After executing some who exaggerated experience they didn’t actually possess, ARK crews were able to find enough supervisors either from farms or who had been avid gardeners before the lights went out. Negotiations with outside farmers yielded enough seed and potatoes to get the first fields planted. Peacekeepers occasionally came back to the ARK with entire families no longer able to safely stay on their farms because of the increasing bandit raids.
Each of the experienced growers was assigned plots to look after, and hungry volunteers to do the work with. At Nicole’s urging and Uncle Jack’s agreement, Tony loosened the reins on some of the survivors who were “volunteering” to be the field labor. Sane people understood the stakes involved. The food would be for everyone regardless of rank, and those from the City Center were expected to pitch in to help grow. Tony even considered Nicole’s ideas for giving people their own plot of land to work. Everyone celebrated together when the first green shoots emerged from the torched landscape.
Living quarters outside the City Center walls were made from former semi–truck trailers grouped into a defensive circle, housing supervisors and workers with a fire pit in the center for evening meals. Small fortified barracks kept Peacekeepers close while on security rotations. The troopers stayed sharp; human animals still lived in the ruins of the city. Guards referred to them as “Rat-eaters,” though allegedly that wasn’t all the bandits ate.
Although not anywhere close to being efficient or perfect, in an amazingly short amount of time after the end of the modern world, Tony Diamante and ARK had established the groundwork for a feudal empire.
New America
The Tenth Day
“By the powers conveyed to me by the Patriot Act, under Emergency Orders handed down by the Federal Government, I appoint each of you Sector Commander, and bestow upon you the rank of Captain in the Reconstructed American Army, responsible for your assigned sector of the Reconstructed Zone. I expect you to devote yourselves 100% to the protection of your respective sector and the production of valuable resources for New America. Do you all agree to fulfill your duties?”
“We do,” was the unified reply.
Colonel Darian Walsh could command a room, able to keep a group’s attention just with presence alone. He was gambling these newly appointed executive officers could do the same. New America needed leaders who could act autonomously. Without the constant communication they’d once enjoyed, he needed people who could take the framework of Reconstruction and fill in the local details.
These men were the future of New America. That’s what he’d designated the city, university and most of the surrounding county; an area now stretching for miles in every direction. The new name highlighted to his people what their mission was. They’d seize the opportunity to rebuild civilization the way it ought to be.
Still a gamble…if the power came back on I’ll have some explaining to do, Walsh thought. But I don’t see any choice. Each second the electrical grid stayed dark, modern society crumbled and fell further away from what they knew as normal. Utter desperation took over this small city in a matter of days; similar situations must exist across the country. He had to get Reconstruction in place as soon as possible to keep the small farm towns from suffering the same fate. Those who could supply his efforts with steady food and new soldiers were critical to his mission.
The new Sector Commanders received packets containing current intelligence data for their assigned sectors of
the Reconstructed Zone. Typewritten lists outlined hard assets and auxiliary troops allocated to their command. No officer needed an introduction to the nine veteran soldiers making up their executive team, they’d been granted the opportunity to select whoever they felt most comfortable with, though Walsh retained final say. These men would work and live together in the sector command posts. Walsh’s command center at the base would be at most a few miles away but poor communications meant the remote groups would have to depend on each other in emergency situations.
The last man to receive his packet was Capt. Martin Fredericks. Since the episode with the former mayor, Colonel Walsh had kept a close eye on the captain. Walsh was reassured the slip was merely an isolated incident and Fredericks was now back on track with the master plan. Fredericks was responsible for isolating and eliminating a group of looters caught near the campus just yesterday.
His confidence restored, Walsh would both reward Fredericks and give him a chance to use experience gained in the Sandbox. He’d get to see what life was like outside of the civilized outpost they had created here and help another community reach the same level of organization.
Fredericks’ assignment included a forty-five mile trip to Decatur, where messengers recently established contact with the surviving National Guard outpost. The Decatur National Guard commander, Major Terry Stillman, gladly agreed to defer to Colonel Walsh’s overall command. Under the arrangement, Stillman would establish his area as New America’s westernmost province. Fredericks’ assignment was to help Major Stillman put the same structure in place that New America’s capital used. During their brief radio contact and subsequent dispatches, Walsh could tell that Stillman lacked the forethought and discipline needed to act on his own. But the willingness to accept the authority of New America’s Reconstruction meant Walsh could use him until a better replacement was installed.
Fredericks will appreciate what we’ve done here once he sees the mess that Decatur is in. He just has to remember that the people here are no different than the ones we pacified overseas. This trip will make that plain as day. Reconstruction is necessary to save lives and any chance at returning America to civilization.
One of Walsh’s few hobbies included the study of Abraham Lincoln. Before the Reset, his little free time was spent at the Lincoln Museum in Springfield, mostly focused on reading Lincoln’s personal letters. He was fascinated with Lincoln’s decision-making, relating personally to the sixteenth president’s turmoil – during his first tour in the Sandbox, Walsh also struggled with actions necessary to restore order. American officers were supposed to be benevolent when dealing with local populations, no matter how hostile the natives were. Lincoln’s justification of difficult decisions subduing a rebellious population brought comfort to the young officer. From the first time Walsh was put in impossible situations by his country to now when he commanded large groups of fighting men, Lincoln’s arguments always resonated with him.
Walsh intended to implement Lincoln’s plans for Reconstruction of the country after the Civil War, wishes Lincoln couldn’t implement personally because of his assassination. Unfortunately, all resistance had to be squashed before the rebuilding process could begin. Just like the former Confederate states had to be pacified, Walsh needed the local populations to become more pliable to the future he had in mind.
That included Old Main College, which sat towards the southern edges of the area New America currently had under Reconstruction. The leadership of Old Main, including the ex–Senator now serving as President of the college, rejected New America’s repeated overtures to diplomacy carried by his motorcycle envoys. Walsh fumed silently when he thought about Julia Ruff. A former leader of the United States government should better understand the high stakes. This is no time to play “Game of Thrones.” We have a nation to restore.
Walsh’s envoys reported that Old Main had developed a good system to integrate their students with what remained of the surrounding community. Food production was exceeding their minimum daily requirements for survival, allowing Senator Ruff’s people to take on other tasks like improving their defensive capabilities. They were even training their own militia – a group of young people that would fit nicely into his Legions.
Most of all, though, Walsh desperately wanted the expertise held by Old Main’s Agriculture staff for his supply chain. Most of the faculty and staff at the University here disappeared sometime after the Great Reset. Those that remained seemed more interested in a handout than helping out.
Walsh’s teams found some gardeners and farmers surviving in the reconstructed areas. That plus the field manuals they had on base would help get their gardens started. But he really wished for people with a lifetime of research and training. New America’s Quartermaster determined they possessed about two years of supplies, counting the hundreds of thousands of MREs available in the hidden missile silos. That would do for now, but Walsh knew from experience that dried foods weren’t enough to feed an effective fighting force. New America’s Legions needed real food; he’d prefer to use the MREs to trade for allegiance when they began assimilating the surrounding communities.
To get started tilling the new gardens, his sector commanders would each be assigned about a thousand Qualified Civilians. Qualified Civilians, or QCs as they referred to them, were townies who showed the initiative to arrive at a food distribution center Walsh set up on each side of the city. Once at the FDC, each family received evaluation for assignment to a task New America needed. Some became security officers, others became foragers sent into the local countryside. Still others were put to work training as food production specialists. Somehow, Walsh just couldn’t get around to calling them farmers.
Of course, each resident will take whatever task that needs doing. Even soldiers will be helping during planting and harvest season. New America’s Legions will be as Roman Centurions: skilled in engineering, farming, architecture, and of course, warfare, Walsh thought, allowing himself a small smile at the quality of soldier New America already produced.
One last item issued to each new sector commander was a brand new American flag to fly above the sector HQ. Walsh made a point to have each flag raised on the base flagpole, then lowered and refolded for presentation every day. Symbolism was a huge part of the armed services; he wanted something that would keep each sector tied to the Command Headquarters of New America.
Walsh and his team briefly discussed producing a new flag or symbol. But since he was pushing the concept of New America, he decided to stick with the well–recognized emblem. Besides, he had a whole closet full of the Stars and Stripes. There was no time or resources to devote to anything new just yet. Even the uniforms he issued would be changed at some point; the standard gray urban camouflage pattern no longer relevant in this rural area.
Small details, but each decision will have ramifications throughout the future. The death of empires gave birth to new societies.
Each evening, he spent thirty minutes reading more about Rome’s final days in Britain. Really, that empire’s withdrawal took years; no sudden overnight departure. Walsh made sure to make mental notes of decisions made by generals and emperors that resonated down through history. The greatest impact always landed on future generations. He struggled to figure out what circumstances led Britain to become a great empire. Perhaps with the right groundwork New America would rise as a great empire someday. Not empire, democracy, he corrected himself.
With sector commanders squared away and headed out to their assignments, Walsh’s devoted his afternoon to reviewing new recruits at the university campus. The provost there turned out to be a real asset, much to Walsh’s surprise. He expected a bleeding-heart who would insist on an equal society. Regardless if it was self–preservation, the provost had carried out his commands to the letter. Due to that, he now had over four thousand former students stationed in the dorms near the courtyard. The rest of the ten thousand students once housed on or around campus made off for home or simply melted away
into the city itself.
For now, he was keeping the female and male students in different buildings. Soon he would begin to pair them up based on talents and a compatibility test developed by a on campus psychology professor. He wasn’t against the concept of two people falling in love. New America just didn’t have time for that to work out on its own. Newly trained troops needed to deploy into the city to help the Sector Commanders finish up any bandits and looters. Reconstruction at its heart was about security. Therefore, New America senior staff would be assigning matched couples a campus room as soon as their compatibility tests were completed.
Most of the young men would receive assignments to the Legions, with the women filling in the duties required to keep a civilization going. There might be a few women able to become Legionnaires, but based on the training regime his officers created, they would be the exception.
The first two thousand would form the nucleus of New America. Their offspring would be the leaders and warriors of the empire. I’m finally being honest…that’s what we’ll create here. New America would be aggressive and expansive once he felt it was ready. The experience he gained overseas, as well as the history he read, told him that democracy was a farce. True peace and security was only achieved through strength. Democracies were by their very nature corrupt. Whoever promised the most goodies to the most people would be in charge. How could that ever hope to be sustained?
I’ll stay in charge for just a while, until I find someone else to hand it off to. He didn’t want to be a dictator, so he would make sure his executive committee had a major say in the decisions. Maybe, someday, he might even allow something like the Roman Senate or the British House of Lords. But the final decisions belong to someone unafraid to face the consequences. One man…every decision ultimately comes down to one man.
As his command Humvee pulled off the street through the tunnel leading underneath the stands and onto the former football field, he could see hand-to-hand combat training already taking place. Memorial Stadium’s synthetic turf over concrete meant that this area wouldn’t be converted to food production like the campus golf course and soccer fields were. The all–weather padded surface suited training like this perfectly. Walsh climbed out of the Humvee and quickly climbed the stairs to the press box perched several stories above. He kept a high knee form and running pace over each flight of stairs.