by Tom Tryst
Of one thing he is sure; those whom he had been working with over these past years, forming close friendships, would probably not be kept together. That suddenly makes him feel sad. He looks around the large office filled with islands of computer consoles, each with friends working in pairs. Sherry is at her computer, hands idle over the keyboard, obviously reading the screen. His gaze moves from one person to another, recalling their personalities and the many good times they have had together. They work hard, but they also know how to enjoy each others company.
This my family, he realizes. He knows he is gong to miss them, and immediately resolves to do everything he can to keep them together.
As he and Sherry enter the dining hall for lunch, he spots Tabiha and Donna in the serving line, each accompanied by who appears be to be the same two young men they were with at The Tavern. He nudges Sherry as they fall in at the end of the line, nodding toward the two couples. Sherry just smiles broadly when she sees them.
She looks back at Daniel, a slight frown contradicting her smile. “Don’t you dare say anything to them. You saw how embarrassed they were this morning.”
He raises his hands in surrender. “That’s their business. I’m keeping out of it.”
“You know what I mean!” she whispers earnestly, “No ribbing them about their new friends. And tell the others to lay off.”
“Will do. Actually, I’m glad they are making new friends.”
“And don’t assume the worse,” she adds, still watching them.
“The Corporation does have a policy discouraging office romances,” he points out.
“Unless you’ve forgotten, ‘the corporation’ no longer exists. And I don’t think the Peace Keepers care one way or the other as long as we’re doing what they say.”
Daniel nods. He is also looking at the two couples. They look happy. “They tell us the key to a harmonious universe is love. I’m sure they have no objections.”
“Just don’t make them think they’re doing something wrong,” Sherry assists.
“Maybe you can casually mention to them they’re not doing anything wrong.”
She nods. “Not necessary, but if and when it seems appropriate. . . .”
By the time they are loading their own trays, the two new couples have found a table.
“Maybe we should join them,” he suggests. “Let them introduce their new friends.”
“Don’t you dare!” she scolds. “They want to be alone. Besides, you should already know them.”
He keeps sneaking glances at them, a little embarrassed that he doesn’t remember the names of the two men. He hurries to explain, “They’re ex-soldiers reassigned to us. I haven’t yet put faces on the names. This would be a chance to get to know them.”
“Forget it. The girls will introduce them when they’re ready,” Sherry advises. “Besides, we’re making a lot of assumptions that may be wrong.”
They find a table on the far side of the dining room from the two couples, both seating so that neither are facing toward them. They eat in silence. Only when a server comes around with coffee refills, do they sit back and relax.
Daniel steals a quick glance toward the pair, then addresses his wife. “I’ve been thinking,” he began, wanting to get her opinion, “we have a lot of married couples. The Corporation seemed to select married couples, knowing we would be kept away from the rest of society. But I did notice that most of those with clerical skills are single women. That really bothered me in the beginning, thinking that the married men might not be able keep their junk in their pants. Fortunately, no problems surfaced. Anyway, now that we have the addition of more single men - according to their personnel files - maybe . . . but then, some may be married . . . .”
“You’re wandering, again, Dear,” she interjects, “Get to the point.”
“I’m going to spend a little time with the files from the Army. Those that are married - and even having families - maybe we can either get them released to go back to their families or bring their families in.”
“I’ve already checked,” she advises with a sly grin. “The married ones - mostly the officers and non-coms were released. Every soldier turned over to us is single with no close ties with the outside.”
“You could have told me this!”
“You didn’t ask,” she shrugs. “Besides, I thought you would already know.”
“I’ve been busy,” he counters guiltily, quickly getting back on track, “Anyway, if the numbers are even close to even - single men and single women - maybe we should encourage socializing. Who knows how long we’ll be here. People have needs.”
She just stares at him. “You think they need your permission to couple up?”
“No! No! What I mean is we should encourage it. Most probably think office romances are in violation of our rules - or of theirs,” he adds, referring to the Peace Keepers.
“I’ve already asked 37,” she advises, “They don’t care one way or another as long as its consensual sex.” She sees him staring at her with raised eyebrows and quickly adds, “Don’t look at me like that! I’ve been thinking the same thing! Nobody should be alone in these trying times.”
He takes a deep breath, again glancing over at the two couples. “OK! I’ll get out a memo to that effect.”
“Good,” she replies, then looks sternly at him. “Just make sure it doesn’t apply to married couples.”
He knows what she means. “Never entered my mind. I have the most beautiful, sexiest woman in the compound,” then quickly added, “And I wouldn’t want the guys thinking married women were fair game.”
“Good.” She looks at her watch. “We have 35 minutes. What do you want to do?”
He only grins broadly.
David isn’t impressed with their new home, but Janet found the old Victorian style two-story house charming. It was on a large lot, as were all the homes in that area, with a spacious back yard, freshly tended. She especially liked the wide screened porch across the front, fully furnished with a picnic table, two rocking chairs and a three-person porch swing.
Both the daughter, Debby, now 14, and her brother, Darrel, now 11, have their own rooms upstairs. They are there now, unpacking and personalizing their ‘new digs.’
David and Janet are taking a break, swinging, his arm around her shoulders. From where they sit, they can see out through the light screen the other front yards in the neighborhood. There are no fences between properties. It’s late morning and it’s already getting quite warm. Summer is close at hand. With clear skies, he suspects the summers here on this flat, almost treeless farmland will be hot and humid. But here in town, or in the village, as locals call it, trees are so numerous almost everything is in shade. From where they sit, they can look down the street for another block and see where open country begins. They don’t know it yet, but the rail line passes along that end of town; they will often hear the horn blasts of the diesel engines. Only a very few passenger trains will stop at the town depot. Most will be freight trains. In the other direction is the village green.
“Home sweet home,” he declares with a sour grin. “Welcome to the new world.” He is taller than average, with the same brown hair and blue eyes as Daniel, and two years younger. Most people can see a distinct sibling resemblance when the two are together, which hasn’t been very often over the years. Never having done hard labor, he is concerned whether he can hold up to long working days on the farm.
“I don’t know, Honey,” she cheerily replies. “I think it’s quaint! I think I’m going to like it.” She had been raised in a pleasant suburban area, seldom having occasion to go into the city. For her, the change is less drastic. Being only 5'-2" tall, standing beside David makes her look even shorter. She is constantly concerned about her weight. But David insists she is ‘pleasingly plumb, just the way I like my women.’ But she knows that she is pretty, with auburn hair and hazel eyes that almost match. So far, after being married sixteen years, she has managed to let him think he rules
the roost, but she is the anchor of their union. He’s the boss when she lets him.
“You weren’t raised in a city, like me and Danny. This is so different. But I guess I’ll get use to it.”
“I sure hope so. I don’t think we’ll get a second choice.”
“And I just don’t know about being a farmer. And cows?” he declares, making a face. “They’re big and ugly and stink! And dumb!”
Their driver/host gave them a few hours to get settled in before returning to pick them up for work assignment and orientation. He returned, this time driving a small, open shuttle bus, with a silent drive train. David sits beside the driver, an elderly gent with a close-cut full white beard, who identified himself simply as ‘Herbert.’ Janet sits behind them, in the middle so she can look and talk to both. The children sit in the last seat. It is more like a stretched golf cart.
“Folks,” he begins as he backs the cart out of the driveway consisting of just two concrete strips at wheel width, “We’ll make a brief tour of the town first.” The cart accelerates silently toward the town center; with only a faint sound of rubber tires rolling over asphalt. “I say short, because the town only stretches two blocks each way from the Commons in two directions, and only three blocks each way in the other two.”
No sooner has he said this, the open expanse of grassy center block comes into view. The Commons or Village Green. It is surprising lushly green with numerous tress and shrubs surrounding open lawn. A two-story Courthouse is set in the middle. As they make the loop, Herbert points out the only other two features: a child play area with brilliantly colored swings, slides, and climbing structure that doesn’t really blend with the older buildings surrounding the Commons; the other feature is a large, round, covered bandstand, where, he advises, there is a concert every Saturday evening. He doesn’t even mention the gun metal grey, square alien space ship setting alongside the courthouse, nor the Peace Keeper standing guard outside.
Across the streets on all four sides are the storefronts, most empty. They pass a lighted ice cream parlor, which doubles as a pharmacy. The driver looks back at the kids, “Free ice cream! One to a customer. It’s open after school and evenings. All day Saturdays and on Sunday afternoons.”
Debby, at 14, feels too grownup to show any response. Already as tall as her mother, she is still growing. And she is almost fully matured physically, but not yet mentally. A good student at school, she is at the age that youths begin to think they know everything and are much wiser than their parents. And she is at the age when boys are starting to get her attention - and she, theirs. David won’t let her date, but Janet knows that they will soon have to change that rule, or there will be rebellion.
But for Darrel, 11-going-on-12, ice cream is a big deal, yet he says nothing, not wanting to evoke teasing from his big sister. He sees it as a place for guys his age to hang out. Neither does he rule out making use of the playground, as long as he does so in a cool way. He is small for his age, something that often makes him a target for school bullies, the bigger kids. The fact that he looks a little ‘nerdy’ doesn’t help.
The driver swings out one block, starting a loop three blocks to a side. Behind the businesses, apartments dominate, mostly fourplexes, none more than two-stories, with the residential houses across the streets. None of the houses appear to be vacant and all are in good repair. They see one small group of workers making repairs. Another loop out, the houses face open country. They are at the edge of town. On the opposite side of town are the larger businesses: a supermarket; a car dealership, a feed and seed, a farm equipment outlet, and a small railroad depot. On the last side of town is the grade school and a combined middle school and high school.
“Well, that’s all folks,” the driver cheerfully announces. “That’s the Village of Kentland, Indiana. Not much, but it has everything you really need to live comfortably. We used to have a movie theater downtown, but it closed. Now you can get the same thing on cable TV.”
“Well, I like it just fine!” Janet declares. “I’m anxious to make new friends.” After a pause, realizing they have seen only a few people during the entire tour. “By the way, where is everybody?”
“Working,” he curtly responds. “Most on the farms. Or at the Granary a mile out. Then seven miles out is the big dairy where you’ll be working.” He addresses David, “We’ll make a loop to hit all three. At the dairy, you can check in and they’ll schedule your briefing. It’ll just take a minute or so.”
David had imagined his dairy farm to be a small family affair; he was far off base. It is a sprawling spread. Around the large barn with its twin silos were two milking sheds and two covered cow sheds. Close next door is a large metal building, where, their guide explains, they process their own milk and the milk from other area farms.
“About half is bottled as milk and cream,” he explains, “The rest is processed into butter, cottage cheese, sour cream and various cheeses. We specialize in sharp cheddar here.”
He stops in front of a small building closest to the two lane roadway. “While your checking in,” he says to David, “What say I give the wife and kids a close look at some of the cows?”
“That would be fine,” Janet answers for her husband. “The kids will love it.”
One look at the un-enthused boy and girl tells him different. “Most of the milk cows will already be out to pasture, but we’ll see some calves,” then added, “And maybe a cow giving birth.”
“Eww!” groans Debby, but Darrel perks up.
After David enters the office, they leave the cart at the building and walk the hundred yards to the enclosed shelters. The closer they get, the stronger the smell.
Debby wrinkles her nose disgustingly, while Darrel pinches his nostrils closed.
Harold just laughs. “Cow manure. You get used to it.”
“Poor David,” Janet says with a smile, “I hope he can get used to it. It’s about gagging me.”
“We won’t stay long. The calf stalls are over there. The kids have to see them.”
As they enter the open sided calf shed, Harold stops them at the second stall. There, a worker is about to feed a small calf.
“Hey, Pete,” he greets the worker, an older gentleman. “Here’s a new family just moving in. The husband’s checking in.”
“Hey, yourself, Harold,” he responds. “Giving them the grand tour?”
“Well, a short version. The smell, you know.”
“Perfume of the Gods,’ Pete declares with a broad grin.”
Harold introduces the three, then seeing the feeding bottle, suggests, “Maybe you could let them feed the critter?”
“Sure. Why not.”
“No thanks,” mutters Debby, backing away, but Darrel eagerly steps forward. “I will!”
After showing the boy how to hold the calf and the bottle, he hands the bottle of fresh warm cows milk to him. The calf is soon sucking noisily, the large nipple in its mouth, occasionally thrusting against the bottle, much to Darrel’s amusement.
Debby watches in fascination, and it doesn’t take much urging for her to give it a try. By the time the bottle is empty, David is standing at the cart, looking for them.
They drive straight home, most of the way with the kids chattering about feeding the calf.
As Harold pulls into the driveway, he speaks over his shoulder to the kids. “You guys are registered for school already. They expect you in the morning. School starts at 0900 and is out at 1500. Darrel, you’ll be going to Wentworth Elementary. Debby, you’ll go to Kentland High. All the kids living in the village walk to school. Only the farm kids are brought in by school bus. Just check in at the front office and they’ll get you set up. Backpacks. Books. Everything you’ll need. They’ll show you were to go and show you your schedule.”
“I’ll take them there,” Janet advised.
“Can if you want. But they can walk safely there and back. We have no crime in Kentland. The minute a person thinks of committing a crime and starts out
, a Peace Keeper zaps him. End of story. No crime.”
“He’s right, Honey,” David confirms. “The bad guys have been transported.”
She just nods, but is determined to escort them to school, at least for their first few days.
That afternoon, with the kids in their rooms enjoying their last day of freedom, Janet queries him about his job. He is assigned the first shift, from 0400 to 1300 hours, so that he will be home when the kids get out of school and home for the evening meal. This is the period of the first milking. He will be learning on the job, rotating from one duty to another until he has the ability of performing most of the duties. He will eventually be a relief worker, filling in for absentees.
She can sense that he is not very enthused about either the town or his new job.
Chapter Eight
Not a city, town or community in the United States is the same one month into the occupation. The same can be said for most of the world. After assuring that all possible resistence was dealt with, the next concern of the Peace Keepers was providing food and medicine to the masses, something challenging in the many underdeveloped areas of the world. There was now food enough for all; it simply had not been getting to those in greatest need. Much was wasted. They quickly remedied that. With the world’s population already greatly reduced, there was a surplus of food.
Those souls that could serve no purpose on earth were transported. Others would be brought back to health to once again be useful. Those in the medical field were given crash courses on advanced medical techniques, using new medicines, techniques and medical equipment provided by the Peace Keepers. Most earth medications were altered to be more effective; new medicines were provided to cure difficult diseases. Ineffective drugs were discontinued. Once people were again healthy enough to work, they were assigned jobs, suitable for their abilities, often requiring relocation.