by G. R. Carter
Levi and Oliver stole a quick glance. Trackers were unsettling to most, different in not just appearance and language. A deep spirituality mixed devout Christianity and reverence for nature. To say they lived in another world was a fair observation.
Lori was more accustomed than most to Wasson’s mannerisms. “Right, well, whatever it is must be important for my brother to send you out here so quickly,” she said. “Now that we’re all here, what have you got to tell us.”
“It’s not what I have to tell you, but what we need to do,” Wasson replied. “Our Founder requires knowledge of those who conquered the White City. He believes there must be some reason the horde has yet to attack you and remains gathered there. He believes there are forces unseen, wishing to do our Republic harm.”
“No disrespect meant to the Founder, but I guess I don’t know what the mystery is. The jijis decided they’d rather hole up in a nice warm city then fight across a river to get to people who’d be happy to kill them,” Levi said matter-of-factly.
Lori agreed with him. “He’s got a point, Wasson. How about we just be happy we dodged a bullet for once? Literally and figuratively.”
“Because it all seems a little too easy,” Father Steve interjected. “I’m starting to wonder now if I got bamboozled myself.”
“You mean the Boar King and his men?” Lori asked with what could only be described as dread, draining the color from her face.
Father Steve shrugged, distracted and deep in thought. She could see him sorting through memories, looking for any clues of betrayal. “I don’t know,” he said absently. “I mean, he nearly killed me when I first got to his camp. I just don’t think he’d go to all the trouble to run a long con on me.” He kept the rest of the argument to himself, fighting the self-doubts that creep in with the unknown.
Oliver joined in. “The Boars and jijis would break themselves against the walls of this town. Even if they got through, Lori’s people would have been safe in the interior fortresses against anything short of heavy artillery.”
“But instead, we opened the door and let them in,” Lori finished the thought. “If it’s true, what do we do about that now?”
“Do not despair, sister,” Wasson said. “The Creator will show us a path. He has put these things in front of us to lead us, to guide us to where we need to be.”
Oliver cut in. “Apologies, Wasson, but I’m a recent convert to the Faith. I still need to work out the problems on my own sometimes,” he said. “I’d like to go with you when head for Caliphate territory. I still know the river, even if it is frozen over. In fact, we can get down the river a lot faster than overland. I bet we can come up with some snow machines to ride. We’ll need Levi’s help too. He can figure out ways to clear any obstacles.”
Wasson ignored the challenge of faith but accepted the help. “I will take your offer, Captain. I have summoned my Brother Trackers from their homes. They deserved time away after the horde retreated towards the White City. I only break their rest out of need to fulfill the Founder’s request. They should be here within a few days. Will that be enough time to outfit a force for our journey?”
Oliver nodded, excited at the thought of getting back out into open country. Walls were safe for the body but stifling for a captain’s mind.
Suddenly the notion of Lori stuck here in the middle of ditchers made him think twice. She caught his concerned look.
“It’s okay, Liam,” she said with a smile. “You may not have noticed, but I can take pretty good care of myself out here.”
He heard Levi laughing and glared at his friend.
“What?” Levi said as he threw his hands up in mock defense. “Just because she knew exactly what you were thinking before you did? Or are you mad because she caught you playing big bad protector guy with the toughest woman on the frontier?”
Lori defended her special friend with a sly smile. “Be nice, Levi. Just because you haven’t landed a girlfriend doesn’t mean you can pick on someone who has.”
Oliver’s face brightened like a pre-Reset stoplight when he heard the word he’d been afraid to use.
“Hate to break up this Hallmark moment,” Father Steve said. Then, at Levi’s confused face, he explained, “Sorry, youngling, classical reference.” The big man shrugged, and the holy man continued: “But we’ve got to decide how we’re going to handle King and his men until we make sure of their intentions.”
Oliver finally shook off his embarrassment.
“Maybe Levi and the spider man can get together for lunch. Get to know each other better,” he said with mock sincerity. “You could do some get some matching tattoos…” Quickly he turned to Wasson, “No offense meant about the tattoos,” he said to the Tracker as he inadvertently looked up and down the inky vines.
“None taken, Captain Oliver. Each man has a story to tell. Good and evil sometimes choose to express their true nature with a similar song.”
The room was quiet for a moment while everyone tried to figure out what that meant.
A thought sprang to Father Steve’s mind. “Wasson, I think you just gave me an idea,” he said. “Let’s see what kind of song our new friends really have in their hearts. Since we’ve got a few days before you leave, let’s have you get to know them a little better.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Lori said. “While you’re doing that, I intend to have a little talk with our royal guest.”
Oliver’s salt-and-pepper beard couldn’t hide the concern on his face.
She smiled at him. “Don’t worry, Liam. I’m a Hamilton. We know when people are deceiving us.” He felt a little shiver when the sweet look turned to something else. “And we know just what to do with people who try.”
Chapter Nine
Capitol Building
Shelbyville, Okaw Province
The Second Founder of the Red Hawk Republic was restless, rolling the edge of his water glass around on the table. Matters of great importance to the future of the Republic were being discussed, but their leader couldn’t concentrate. All he wanted to do was get out of here and back to his farm. The rolling hills of Aronia Point beckoned to him to return. To leave the foolish schemes of men behind and return to the land.
“Alex, what’s your opinion?” He felt someone next to him grab his arm and give it a shake. “Alex, hello? Are you there?” He looked up to find Bek staring at him with a question on her face.
“Opinion on what?” he asked, more irritated than he intended to be.
“Sorry to bore you,” Celeste Ford cut in before Bek could reply. “We just thought the Founder of the Republic might have some input on how to integrate the refugees long-term. After all, you’re the one who invited them to come and live with us.”
Alex didn’t have to work hard to pick up the sarcasm in the voice of his brother’s wife.
“Pretty simple,” he looked up and replied. “Do what I told you to do in the first place.”
Celeste was a brilliant woman, spearheading projects responsible for everything from fuel production to designing new weapons for the Republic’s Self Defense Cooperative. But she was no diplomat, which happened to be the one thing she and the Second Founder of the Republic had in common.
Her steely glare locked onto Alex’s good eye. “Don’t worry,” she said coolly. “We’ve got all the able-bodied refugees training in the militias or working in the fields and the factories.”
“Okay, so what’s the problem?” he asked.
“Who’s going to keep feeding them? We’re already maxed out on food and fuel production trying to keep your armies out on high alert.”
Alex tried to remain calm. “I didn’t invade anyone this time, remember?” He was still sensitive to past accusations that he had used the Republic’s resources to take territory and create an empire.
Celeste ignored the argument and continued. “With both Tier One and Tier Two militia called up to service instead of working at home, we’re burning through supplies without the means to replace them. Y
our holy crusade is going to break us before the Caliphate does!”
“Damn it, Celeste, I didn’t call for this war!” he said as anger burned through.
“What war?” she yelled back before he could continue. “The Caliphate has shown no indication of attacking us. They’re just sitting there in the White City. None of the horde is even close to Beardstown. No unusual activity to the north and Eric has them screened on the east. How many weeks has it been since you went on the cable and declared your own jihad?” She raised a hand as he started to argue back. “Don’t tell me it was the Caliphate. They captured ARK, big deal! You told us the Diamantes were a threat, maybe you should be thanking the Caliphate for destroying them. All these years of having them on our northern border…they could have come that way if they were really a threat to us.”
“Those are dead lands, contaminated from the nuclear power plants. Even they wouldn’t come through there.”
“Regardless, the Caliphate has never actually invaded us.”
“Tell that to the men they’ve killed in their raids,” Alex snarled.
“How many of theirs have you killed? Trackers are out there kidnapping Caliphate people to interrogate. I’d say that’s instigation. We’re lucky they haven’t attacked just in retaliation for that!”
Bek finally cut in. she’d had enough of her husband and sister-in-law at each other’s throats. “We’re not solving anything here. Let’s focus on ways we can all reduce consumption of resources,” she nodded to Celeste, “and increase supplies,” she said as she patted Alex’s arm.
Celeste sat down and huffed. “The long winters are killing us. Cool springs, not enough growing days in the summer, and the fall frost comes early. So just as we need more, we grow less.”
"The Creator will provide," Alex said. "He always does."
Celeste rolled her eyes. "If your Creator really cared about us, he'd send us a nice warm front." She didn't care if that offended her deeply religious brother-in-law, or her even more religious husband.
Alex ignored Celeste, but nodded to his closest advisor. “The oil fields in Grand Shawnee,” he said to Bek. “That’s the key. Get them producing more and we can quit using our food as fuel.”
Celeste rolled her eyes and huffed again. “You of all people know this Republic was founded on being able to grow what we use. That way we’re never held hostage to the supplies of others.”
“Shawnee isn’t ‘others,’ Celeste. They’re part of the Republic,” Bek replied.
Celeste shrugged. “We’ll see. No other province besides the Okaw seems to be able to pull their own weight. Even Old Main isn’t keeping up with men or material.”
Bek glanced over at her mother seated directly across the table. Julia showed no reaction to the slight. She’d been a politician in the pre-Reset United States. Running a province in this new republic wasn’t much different; everyone was an expert.
“We’ve met all of our quotas in America,” Martin Fredericks cut in. As one of the Republic’s most trusted leaders, and the only one with pre-Reset military training, his input was invaluable to Alex. Along with his wife, they oversaw the Republic’s largest province by land mass, carved from the remains of what was once the Okaw’s greatest threat. Alex allowed all governors to run their provinces the way they saw fit. Fredericks took that charge to heart.
The only one not in attendance was Eric Olsen. Grand Shawnee was in full mobilization with the eastern horde of the Caliphate on its border, and Alex and Eric had agreed it was best for him to stay in the Shawnee to oversee their defense. After years of conflict between the two men, he and Alex seemed to be on the same page about nearly everything. Physical and emotional wounds, mixed with the joys of true love and family, had bonded the two volatile warriors.
“Either way, I’ll talk to Eric and see what can be done to increase oil and coal production. We’ve got the workforce, with the ditcher tribes coming in.” Alex stopped to give Celeste a look. “I’m sure they’ll be happy for the jobs,” he said.
“How can we be sure of the loyalty of these tribes?” Fredericks asked. “We’ve been hunting them down since the Reset. Now they’re supposed to be loyal citizens?” The governor of the American province pulled a paper file from his brief case. He glanced down at some hand-written notes, tapped one area in particular, and closed the file back. “You’ve got too many refugees gathering in certain spots. We’ve been trying to weed out pockets for years, now we’re inviting those pockets in as invited guests. Uprisings and raiding are real possibilities. You’ve got to keep them spread out, at the very least.”
“Father Steve says they’re fully committed. The surviving tribes want to join civilization again. Plus, they’re more scared of the Caliphate than they are of us.”
Fredericks didn’t seem convinced. “Just seems like a lot of bad blood suddenly forgiven. Those ditchers hold grudges like it’s a religion.”
“Speaking of, Unified Church missionaries have been out living with these ditchers for a while. All indications are they want something better for their kids. And there’s a lot of kids,” Bek said.
Julia agreed. “We’ve got every church functioning as a school."
Alex nodded. “You see, Martin? Every day the kids are surrounded by the Faith, learning our way of life, we integrate the families closer to our belief system.”
Celeste couldn’t help herself. “You’re indoctrinating them. Why is it everything in this so-called republic revolves around the Unified Church? Just drop the pretense of civilian government. We’d save a lot of time if you’d just admit who’s really in charge. I’m sure the Senate would appreciate not wasting their time—”
“Enough!” Alex thundered. He was standing with both fists on the table, moving so quickly Bek didn’t even see it – remarkable agility for a man still fighting near-crippling wounds. The room was dead silent save for the ticking of a large clock sitting in the corner of the conference room. The sunlight beaming in seemed to collect in Alex’s uncovered eye. The burning gaze caused every single strong personality in the room to feel quite a bit smaller in an instant. Finally, the gaze settled on Celeste.
“I loved and respected your grandfather as much as my father did,” he said to his seething sister-in-law. “I have loved and respected you. But by bells and fire, if you can’t find a way to get on board with this,” he was still rapping his knuckles on the table, “if you can’t get what we need out of the Wizards, I will find someone who can! Am I well and clearly understood?”
The otherworldly gaze bored into her. She tried to stare back, but finally her eyes dropped to the table, acquiescing without verbalizing.
He included the whole room now. “I give each and every one of you free rein to run your provinces and departments as you see fit. My only request is you figure out a way to give us what we need.” He picked up his right hand off the table and pointed it all around. “I remind you that the Republic is greater than all of us. If it is to stand the test of time, she must have the entire devotion of everyone. I don’t ask you to agree with every decision I make. Arguments are welcome when you feel strongly. But I must…I will have your cooperation when I put a plan into place.”
Celeste found her courage. “If you insist on ignoring that advice you claim to seek, some of us will have to resign.”
“And I assure you, in that circumstance, I will accept those resignations.”
Tension hung heavier now. He took a deep breath and resisted the temptation to rub the headache out of his temples. He thought better of his next sentence and sat down. No one said a word as the seconds ticked.
His baritone voice was softer when he began again. “We’ve been through a lot together…all of us. I think we forget sometimes how much we’ve all accomplished. A thousand other little communities all over this country…” His voice faded off into a deeper thought. “Heck, think about how many villages and cities perished all over the world after the Reset…”
The others simply watched
as he seemed to do a sort of calculation in his head. Finally satisfied with the answer he’d come up with, he continued, “Yet here we still stand. Our Bishops caution me from thinking that our Republic is somehow favored by the Almighty. I’m sure the Blackhawk Confederation, Mt. Horab, ARK, New America…lots of others felt the same way at some point, and soon they’ll be just a faint memory.” Alex chuckled a little. “I’ll leave the whims of the Creator to the learned men of the Church. But I do know that we’ve been spared before. Probably a combination of things, but it wasn’t magic.”
Alex finally let the room back into his thought process. “Those victories were the result of damned hard work and sacrifice. Essie is with ARK somewhere in the wide-open territory west of the Mississippi. We hope she’s safe with Nicole, but we have no way of knowing. Worse, we still don’t know how to get her back.” He hung his head, near distraught at the idea of his little sister gone missing. He knew it was even harder on Sam, who couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything else.
“Lori is trying to hold our western borders together,” he continued solemnly. “Sam and his pilots risk their lives flying recon over Caliphate lines… Chances are a good some of us in this room won’t make it through the next year.”
Jaws dropped around the room at the Founder’s brutal dose of honesty.
“So why not make some sort of peace with the Caliphate?” Celeste asked with measured calm. “If you know all these people are going to die, why not figure out a way to keep it from happening? You have the power to strike a deal with them. We’ll be safe behind the rivers. We’ve spent years building Fortress Farms every few miles in our territory. It would take an army of millions to wipe us out.”
Alex suddenly felt very alone. He didn’t show his emotion, but he was despondent inside. After all this time, his own people still didn’t understand the greater conflict they were part of.
He searched for the words, but Bek beat him to the punch: “Celeste, just a few weeks ago we all believed there was no way the White City would ever fall either. Almost overnight, ARK went from being this giant specter hanging over our head to something we're now trying to help salvage. The Caliphate caused that. You really believe they’re not trying to figure out a way get us, too?”