THE PEACE KEEPERS

by Tom Tryst

  “So, what’s your take?”

  “I wish he had never shown up. She was recovering fine, thinking he didn’t love her, that he had taken advantage of her,” is Daniel’s quick and frank response.

  “Well, he’s here, but I can change that in a heartbeat. If you and David agree, he’ll be out of here within the hour. To Lackland, either for trial or for basic training.”

  “You believe that enlisting story?”

  Victor held up a finger and then punched the intercom.

  “Sir?” a voice responded.

  “Parker, any response on the military status of prisoner Campbell?”

  “Yes, sir. He’s to be inducted on the 14th. In Chicago.”

  “Thanks.” He closed the circuit, then turned to Daniel. “You heard. If the Army still wants him, we got him. As the arresting officer, I’m going to recommend not pressing charges. If they agree, he’ll already be at Lackland. He can be inducted there and take his basic training there. That will resolve the issue with him. But you can be sure he’ll find a way to get in contact with Debby. How do you think she’s going to respond with you and David keeping this from her?”

  “She doesn’t want to see him.”

  “Even if she had this information? Why he broke up with her? He’s going to be in basic training for twelve weeks. Then to a specialty school or on-the-job training for anywhere from three to five months more. They could work things out by mail and telephone.”

  Daniel abruptly stands. “Well, not my decision. I’ll bring David up to speed. Let him make the decision.”

  “You realize that it should be her decision.”

  “She’s still living under his roof, but I’ll suggest he tell her. A visit now - if she wants - couldn’t hurt. He’s going to be out of the picture for months.”

  “OK. Tell him he’ll be shipping out at 1500 hours.”

  Daniel has to chuckle. “Ain’t young love grand!”

  Victor nodded, trying not to smile. “I’m just glad I found Tabitha. I can’t imagine living without her.”

  “You lucked out there, Partner. She’s a great gal.” As he makes his exit, he turns one more time. “Would you be available later - if David wants to talk to you?”

  Victor gives him a thumbs up.

  Chapter Eighteen

  When Kentland law enforcement agents were notified of the arrest of Eddie Campbell and the recovery of the vehicle assigned to the city, they in turn contacted Eddie’s parents. There was never any doubt about his guilt by the department, for he was the one in possession of the vehicle when it was last accounted for. However, his parents believed he might have been hijacked and left for dead along some road. They insisted on a thorough search along every road in the area he might have been traveling. They were relieved that he was alive and well, but heartbroken that he could do such a thing.

  They were managing fine without a car, sharing rides with co-workers and neighbors to their jobs. They live within three blocks of the old supermarket turned into a food distribution center; Kentland was a very small town. Everything was within walking distance. Over the years that mankind was once again on their own, there was more and more disruption of the supply lines of foods and necessities, sometimes by groups pressing the government for a return to the dollar system, sometimes by groups hijacking the delivery trucks to feed their own people when they had failed to receive deliveries.

  At first, the military quickly stepped in and took over the production and distribution, but as the incidences became more frequent, they were soon overwhelmed. Whether it was the farmers or distributors, they arrested the dishonest and hoped they were replacing them with more reliable people. They began escorting deliveries as available manpower allowed. But hungry people do desperate things. Is there an honest man alive who would not steal food to keep his family alive?

  Kentland is supplying four main foods: Dairy products, cattle, corn and grains. They are delivering as scheduled, faithfully, but there are too many incidents when part of the food supply they were expecting in return didn’t show up. Being country folk, they manage. Lawns and backyards have been turned into truck gardens for vegetables for their own use in season, and canned or frozen for use throughout the non-growing months.

  Every family receives a food allotment to last a week, the amount depending on the size of the household and their ages. Over time, it has been fine-tuned to assure every family is getting their fair share and no more. Waste is intolerable. When an expected delivery is short, they substitute with local goods. No one is going hungry.

  They are also doing fine with clothing, as local women have joined forces to make much of the day-to-day wear. Fabric is easier to get than finished clothing. Gasoline and diesel are severely rationed and controlled by the military, with agriculture given top priority. So is fuel oil, the primary source of heating homes during the long, bitter winter months; few homes have been converted to the new technology.

  Out of necessity, once abandoned coal-fired power plants are put back on line on a temporary basis, to be permanently converted or dismantled sometime in the unknown future.

  For other commodities, the availability is infrequent, as manufacturing is still far below normal. If a family needs a dinner plate, no matter where they live, they will find their choice limited to white, porcelain, microwave safe plates - all looking identical. There is one choice for toothpaste. One choice for sun screen. One choice for soap. Under the direction of the aliens, the government had created advisory boards to determine the best for each product produced pre-invasion. That practice continues. After all, there is no more competition. No more false claims. No brand names. And no more demand for profit. Even if a product isn’t like the one people were used to, they can depend on the fact that it is the best product for doing what it is supposed to do. It is safe to use. And it is free.

  Everything is getting the ‘thumb print’ of the military, but the people don’t mind. Most respect the two branches; the Army for their role in trying to keep the supply lines open, and the Coast Guard for securing their borders. People know it is the military that is keeping the peace, keeping the greedy wolves at bay, and providing for the needs of the people. They are now getting reports through the newscasts (again by the government) of the disruptions, conflicts and major wars raging in so many other parts of the world. It is a change in policy, the thought process being that if the people knew how bad things were in other countries, conditions at home wouldn’t seem as bad in comparison. It is so bad, that instead of the once stabilized population slowly growing, the world’s population is still decreasing.

  The military is still censoring the worse local news.

  The peace compacts with Canada, Mexico (including Belize and Guatemala for security reasons) and the Carribean island nations are effective in keeping North America a closed state. The biggest threat is from people trying to enter the area through Central America, or the northern South American countries. It is the job of the Coast Guard to keep all foreign ships out of North American Territorial waters, now extending 200 miles from land. They protect those waters with deadly force.

  In the Carribean and Gulf of Mexico, and on both the Atlantic and Pacific coast, it is the job of the Coast Guard to keep out all unauthorized vessels; to enforce the 200-mile width of territorial waters. There are no longer any ‘coyotes’, men paid to ferry people to the U.S., for there is no profit to be made, but the boats keep coming. When they are intercepted, all aboard are incarcerated for long periods, then transported back to South America. Those that make it into the states, quickly realize they can’t get food, medicine or shelter; rather than starve to death, they turn themselves in to be sent back. Soon the word was out that the United States is not a shelter from their own hard times.

  Where groups in other parts of the world have used muscle to take power, trying to reinstate the monetary system so that they can be both powerful and wealthy, they have little success. Whole nations are fragmenting into local gangs, f
ighting each other. Those countries who try to reinstate their currency find that other nations are not honoring it, considering it so much worthless paper. Even precious metals and gem stones have little buying power.

  While the government news agency makes sure that all North American citizens are kept advised as how bad the rest of the world is doing, they are also very busy transmitting propaganda to the rest of the world that North Americans’ aren’t doing any better, always stressing their strong security, as to be a deterrent to those considering violating their closed borders. Films clips showing ships violating their territorial waters being quickly sunk, with survivors not being rescued, are included in news releases; no prisoners taken. In fact, the Coast Guard was seldom that cruel; most would be migrants were simply shipped back to the nearest foreign land.

  What used to be the border between Guatemala and Honduras/El Salvador is now a wide ‘no man’s land.’ Stripped of all cover, any person venturing into the area would be quickly picked off by snipers using long-range phasers. The bodies are left to rot where they lie, a deterrent to others. Soon, few try entry expect for the very foolish or the very desperate. Downwind, the smell of rotting flesh can be overwhelming.

  As bad as things are getting in the United States and the other North American nations, the people believe they are better off than the rest of the world. For most, that is true. The military of other countries have a full-time job of preventing illegal movement from one nation to another. All of North America is open to free trade by treaty, but an integral part of that agreement is border security. Each member nation will not allow their citizens to freely cross national borders; those people who illegally enter another country quickly find there is no sustenance without a ration card and implanted identity chip. They have no choice but to return on their own country. Those who turn to crime to get food, or other goods, are quickly dealt with by a variety of charges from a phaser ranging from an agonizingly painful stun to death.

  With the United States closing its borders, imports and exports are dramatically reduced. Once busy seaports are nearly abandoned. Trades between the U.S., Canada and Mexico are conducted at several border locations, or, with the case of the island nations, at designated seaports. Every commodity has been assigned a value, stated by unit or weight. A country sending a commodity into another country gets ‘credit’ for that shipment, then chooses from export commodities of equal value available at that import/export station. Government agents negotiate the trades, not the producers of the commodities, who have already been provided compensation in the form of the equitable assignment of housing and the regular distribution of food, clothing, medication and other necessities - always regulated by their assigned ration card.

  The exception is with persons who were born in one country and immigrated to another, attaining legal status. They can choose to return to their place of birth by mutual consent of both countries involved. For a while, there were many native-born Americans who had opted to live in Mexico (or some of the Carribean islands) returning to the United States. For now, the Pentagon has ‘temporarily’ stopped that program, totally closing the borders.

  It is becoming increasingly difficult to get producers of the needed commodities to turn over their production voluntarily, especially with the farmers and ranchers. Those working land they once owned, still feel it is their property, rejecting the fact that all real estate belongs to the government. The current ‘owner’ is now simply a steward, but feels he should be making a profit for his labors. The military has begun taking a hard stand. Whenever a producer of food goods holds back delivery, a detail of armed soldiers will raid the farm or ranch and take the manager into custody. The farm or ranch is then stripped of all harvested goods. They will leave one of the foremen in charge of the workers, usually with a soldier to assure compliance; as before, they will live solely on issued ration cards, like everyone else, but will continue producing. As most of the farm workers have been assigned to the jobs, they cooperate.

  The desire for riches is still alive and well in many, especially those who at one time were better off financially and socially than the masses. They yearn to return to their previous life of privilege.

  When he learned that his daughter’s ex-boy friend, Eddie Campbell, had shown up at The Compound, wanting to see her, his first impulse was to keep that information from her. As the commanding officer, as well as a friend of the Davies family, Victor agreed, promising the young man would be shipped out that afternoon.

  David Davies almost didn’t relent, but his conscience bothered him. Personally, he didn’t like the young man, especially since, in his mind, the punk had violated his virgin daughter. The guy would be gone in a matter of hours, inducted into the Army, and would be no further problem for some time to come. By then, perhaps her relationship with Jonathan, the Army corporal she had been seeing, would get serious.

  To his surprise, she didn’t want to see him, but he could understand how she felt; or at least he thought he did. He had been in love in high school, going steady, when his girlfriend cheated on him. He could still recall the heartache, a nostalgic memory now. He would talk to her one more time. They would meet for lunch.

  It is early in the lunch period; the dining hall is uncrowded. David leads her to a table at the far side, well away from others, so they wouldn’t be overheard by the other diners. Debby already knows why he is meeting with her, for he has never asked her to join him for lunch without all the family present.

  She doesn’t wait for him to get to the point. “Daddy, I told you I don’t want to see Eddie, so if that’s what this is all about, let’s change the subject.”

  He just looks at her for a moment, then sets his fork down and sits back. “Hon, tell me again why he broke up with you.”

  Exasperated, she curtly replies, “He said he was seeing another girl.”

  “Do you know who that was?”

  “No.”

  David nodded. “Then he could have been lying about that.”

  “What are you getting at, Daddy?”

  “I just thought you should know. The decision is up to you. But Eddie says he broke up with you because you were coming here and he couldn’t go with you; he didn’t want you to decide to stay back because of him. He says he still loves you . . . and I believe him.”

  She shook her head. “He’s just trying to use me to get into The Compound.”

  David slowly shook his head, looking directly into her eyes. “No, he isn’t. He’s enlisted in the Army. He’s to be sworn in, two days from now. If you still love him, he’ll probably ask you to wait for him until he gets a permanent duty station.”

  She just stares back at him, her face emotionless. He wishes he could read her mind.

  Sitting back, he picks up his cup and takes a sip before continuing. “My first impulse was to protect you. Let them take him away; that would be the end of it. But you’re a young woman now and I have to let you make your own decisions. If somehow you found out we were keeping things from you, you might resent it. Or the thought of losing your first love might haunt you the rest of your life, thinking it could have turned out different.”

  Debby lowers her head, absently picking at her food, but not eating.

  He endures her silence as long as he can, but has to ask, “Well?”

  “Well, what?” she casually responds without looking up.

  “Do you want to talk to him? They’re transferring him out at 1500 hours. Victor says you can visit him.”

  “I already told you. I don’t want to see him.” Her response was immediate.

  “Are you telling me you’re over him?”

  “Yes, Daddy. That’s all in the past. Done and over with.”

  The ‘past,’ he thinks to himself, wasn’t that long ago, but then the youths get over things much quicker. He had been right in letting her know. That wouldn’t come back to haunt him. He quickly changes the subject as they continued with a leisurely lunch.

  The single
soldier guarding the holding cell opens the door and motions Eddie to get up. “You have a visitor,” he advises. Eddie is suddenly anxious, hoping it is Debby. As he follows the soldier down the dimly lit hallway, he begins thinking of what to say to her. Should he just blurt out that he still loves her, that he never stopped loving her? If she still has feelings for him, does he have the right to ask her to wait for him?

  He’s suddenly conscious of his unkept appearance; he has been wearing the same casual clothes for five days. His hair is unkept. He tries to comb it with his fingers. The hall opens into the area where he was fingerprinted. The guard directs him to an open door. Eddie expects to see Debby waiting there, but the room is empty save a small table and two attached chairs.

  The guard tells him to sit, then handcuffs both hands to a heavy ring at the edge of the table, then leaves without another word. Eddie notices the table and chair are both bolted to the floor. The room is brightly lit, but there are no windows. He’s glad the guard left the door open; the confines of his cell have gotten to him.

  It seems like an eternity before the guard appears at the door, talking to someone just out of view. “You have ten minutes. No physical contact and no passing any items to the prisoner.”

  He steps back and Debby steps partway into the room, only glancing at Eddie, then looking back at the guard. Eddie tries to stand, but can only manage a crouch with his hands secured to the table. He sits back down.

  “Have a seat,” the soldier instructs Debbie. “I’ll leave the door open. I’ll be right outside. Let me know when you’re through.”

  Debbie enters and sits across the table from Eddie and for the first time turns her gaze on him. “You look like hell,” states, her face showing no emotion.

  “I know. Been on the road three days and in here two. No change of clothes. No shower. I probably stink.”

  She ignores that. “Did you do what they say? Stole a car and gasoline?”

  “It’s the car assigned to the family. I got cans of gas from the dairy, enough to make the trip here. Didn’t need more; I knew I would be arrested as soon as I tried to get in here.”