by Tom Tryst
“And you’ve enlisted in the Army?”
Eddie just nods.
“So why are you here?” She already knows the answer to that, but she wants to hear it from him.
“To see you!” he exclaims. “To tell you I never stopped loving you. I DO love you! I broke up with you so you would come here with your family; where you would be safe.”
“That was a decision for me to make!” she snaps.
“I know,” he responds in his misery, “But I needed to know you would be safe. This world is going to hell in hurry. There’s no telling how long we could have stayed alive in Kentland. I love you! I’d give my life to keep you safe!”
She looks at him for a long moment, not speaking, her mind remembering some of the times they had together. She finally speaks. “Well, it’s too late now. What was done is done. You’re going into the Army. And I’m not leaving my family to follow you.”
“I know it’s hopeless, but I just had to see you again; to let you know I wasn’t just dumping you for some other girl. There is no ‘other’ girl.”
“So what am I supposed to say?” she demands, becoming emotional, realizing she still has some feeling for him. “That I love you, too? That I’ll wait for you? For all I know, I’ll never see you again!”
He can’t answer her, for he realizes she couldn’t feel a love as strong as his; he couldn’t expect her to put her life on hold until they could be back together. That could be two years, the length of his enlistment.
“I just had to see you once more,” he finally says softly, slumping forward to take some of the strain off the handcuffs. “And to tell you I’m sorry for the way things turned out. I just want you to have a happy life.”
She feels a flood of compassion for the miserable young man, so different from the rambunctious Eddie she knew. Her anger and resentment is gone, yet she feels only concern for him; not love. “Eddie, I’m not mad at you anymore. I realize why you did. . . what you did. And I care about you, but I don’t think I love you anymore. When you deal with this issue,” she points to the handcuffs, “we’ll talk again. If we’re meant to be together in the future . . . well . . . ,“ She doesn’t try to finish.
“I appreciate that,” Eddie finally manages without choking up. “At least you don’t hate me.”
“I wish I could say that I love you and will wait for you,” she says with sincerity, “but I can’t. I don’t feel the same way I did.”
“Can I at least write to you?” he pleaded, “And it would be great to hear from you, that you’re doing fine. Please?”
She just nods as she rises from her seat. “I’ve got to go.” She feels tears coming to her eyes; she doesn’t want him to think she’s crying for him. The fact is, she doesn’t really know why she feels like crying. It’s like she has lost something very dear to her. As she hurries out of the room, she can’t trust her voice to say ‘goodbye’ to him without choking up and bursting into tears.
Her father is waiting outside, her return ride to the Village. He doesn’t have to ask her how it went; as soon as she gets in the golf cart, she grabs hold of him and bursts into tears. He patiently let’s her cry it out. Even when she gets control of herself and straightens up, he remains silent, simply looking at her.
She glances at him once, then stares out through the windshield at the security building holding Eddie.
“It’s over,” she says simply, but with finality.
They are silent through the ride back.
Only a handful of the citizens of Glen Haven and their farming neighbors care to closely follow the news reports broadcast on the government channels. For most, it is too depressing, even though the government is severely censoring what is released to the public. The newscasters keep an upbeat attitude, assuring the public that everything is under control. There is plenty of food for everyone; the problem is simply in small glitches in the very complicated distribution system. If a certain shipment is late, don’t worry, it will soon arrive. The constant theme is that the United States is producing more foods than is needed; nobody will go hungry. That is true - that the food production is more than ample. Distribution is the problem.
In The Compound, such late deliveries go unnoticed to all but those in Food Service, whose task it is to feed the citizens of Glen Haven. They have a backup of food stuffs they can fall back on if a delivery is late - or never arrives. It simply requires an adjustment in the menus. The stress on not wasting food is a precaution, in case things start getting bad.
The Army detail has their own food service staff who work in harmony with their civilian counterparts. They share in whatever foods are delivered to the compound or grown internally. In turn, they make available the military Ready-to-Eat meals being held in reserve, meals designed to last for years.
The farmers and ranchers insist on taking care of themselves, getting supplies from Food Service, even though they have the freedom of taking meals at the dining hall. Increasingly, they are growing crops to minimize the dependency on the government, gradually converting what was grazing land for cattle to fields for planting. The wide swath of land being cleared along the twelve miles of security fencing is becoming grassland for grazing, freeing up pasture land for other crops.
As the government is reducing the amount of meat being distributed, the stress is on vegetables and fruit. It is a healthier diet. No one is going hungry. And the people are being fed a healthier diet. Meat is on the menu once or twice a week, with most meat consumption being in prepared dishes, such as soups or stews. Half of what they eat are vegetables: fresh, canned or frozen.
With ample, good food, along with duties that in one way or another support the continuing functioning of The Compound, they are content. They like to think that everything is going well on the outside, that no others are suffering while they are prospering. If things on the outside are going well, they will be safe on the inside. Time and time again, both Victor and Daniel assure the people that the intense security is needed because of the nature of the highly classified work The Compound is doing for the government. They are guarding against foreign infiltrators more than local people.
This is becoming a hard sell with the ongoing clearing of growth around the perimeter, something many are involved in as a part-time, voluntary service. The main reason given for the clearing is the need for more grazing land. Most disturbing is the establishment of the twenty-four concealed lookout positions, suggesting that they expect invaders - or at least trespassers. As there are no known enemies of the government on U.S. soil, interested in what information the Computer Center might have, those they anticipate could be only after food.
Only Col. Victor Wells and Daniel Davies have the real picture; both by orders from Pentagon and Washington, they are to limit what information is passed on to the people. Things are not going well on the outside, especially with the distribution of food. It seems, the more they modify the extremely complicated system developed and maintained by the Peace Keepers, the worse thing become. With the growing resistence of the food growers, the problem grows. Only military facilities - and government facilities like The Compound - are assured of a steady supply, having top priority for distribution. Not surprising, as the military is enforcing the distribution process.
While Victor is concerned for the future welfare of the citizens of The Compound, his future is secure, whatever happens. If The Compound is shut down, he will have another assignment. Not so with Daniel; he and his people will have nowhere to go. There is no guarantee that his people will be relocated. And both have no doubt that hungry people will eventually try to raid The Compound.
All effort is being made to quickly complete the clearing of the ‘no-man-land’ along the perimeter fence, all twelve miles, at least 200 yards wide on the inside. Where the fence parallels the lake, some beautiful oaks had to be cut down, but the strip didn’t have to be as wide. On the outside of the fence, another swatch at least 200 yards wide has been cleared and burned, leaving barren g
round. Any trespassers will have to cross 200 yards of barren ground, break through an electrified chainlink and razor wire fence, and cross another 200 yards of close cropped pasture to get to the cover of the woods - a distance the length of four football fields.
All along the fence, low voltage, cool burning, street lamps have been installed every two hundred feet, illuminating the entire perimeter with a low glow. Not obvious to any observer, every lamp post also has an inferred lamp, which, with a viewer wearing special goggles, would show hot spots; body heat. Each lamp has its own solar panel and storage battery that supplies the needed power during the night. Each lamp is independent of the others. If intruders managed to shoot out the light, the sentries could still see the movement of people, seen as hot spots.
All of the lookouts are civilian, both male and female, all working short watches to reduce the chance of falling asleep at the post. All such assignments are in addition to their regular duties, and are shorter in length than originally proposed. And, even though some volunteers now in training object, they will be unarmed. Their job is to be alert, spot the trouble and let the military take action.
Everyone who came into The Compound has been repeatedly warned to stay clear of the 12-foot high perimeter fence with its razor wire topping. All are well aware that simply touching the fence is certain death. Now that livestock will be grazing on the cleared land, barbed wire fences have been installed to keep them from touching the fence - as well as an incautious child.
But those in training as lookouts are given additional information, pertinent to their watch. There is exactly 12.25 miles of perimeter security fence, comprising of 25 sections, each independent of the others. Each section can be shut down without effecting the others. Or one section could malfunction without effecting any of the others. The entire system is monitored around the clock, with monitors showing the status of each section. If any section goes down, for any reason, an alarm will sound in the control center. Further, an independent system would be activated, causing loudspeakers all along the perimeter fence to broadcast a warning to stay back from the fence and that trespassers will be shot on sight. That same system activates high-intensity lights in the down area, day or night, letting patrol know the exact location of the failed section.
If a lookout is on duty at that section, he or she will immediately have eyes on what’s happening - and be comforted in knowing how quickly help will be there. As the farthest away a patrol can be is six miles, security would arrive at the malfunctioning site within five minutes. If two guards were on patrol, the response time would be less than two-and-a-half minutes; the more perimeter patrol guards, the shorter the response time.
The Compound was as secure as they could make it - but not totally impenetrable.
After a nightcap at The Tavern, Victor suggests to Daniel that they take a ride around the perimeter. He wants to show him the progress they were making. The sky is clear, but the moon is just a sliver, providing little light.
The jeep Victor is driving is an older model, painted in the old Air Force blue. The top is down. The roadway is narrow, but two vehicles could pass if they were cautious. In most stretches, Daniel can see two or more of the tall street lamps, casting a dim light, but light enough to make out details.
Before they get to the camp area, Victor stops, shuts off the engine and dismounts.
“I want you to see one of the lookout shelters,” he advises as he heads out into the clearing, away from the fence line, to where the tree line begins. He stops at the base of a large oak. Reaching up into a lower branch, he pulls down a boson’s chair, with ropes leading up into the canopy.
“The lookout will use this to pull himself up into the tree, using a pulley system. When he get to the lookout, he and the chair will be out of sight.” He lets the chair, looking more like a swing seat, hang loose and begins to pull down on one rope; the chair begins to rise.
“Give it a try,” he suggests.
Daniel looks up into the spreading branches of the big oak. He can see nothing. “You want me to go up there?”
“You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”
“No. Just of falling. Is it safe?”
“It’s just like the old dumbwaiters. It’s counter balanced for a hundred and ten pounds. You’ll be pulling whatever more than that you weight, but it uses pulleys. It takes very little effort to rise or lower. Just keep hold of the rope. When you get to the top - you’ll know because it won’t go any higher - secure the rope and swing over into the shelter.” Victor hands him a lantern.
Daniel eases into the chair, expecting it to tilt with his weight, then notices the seat is roped at each corner. The rope he is to pull is taut, part of the pulley system. Placing the lamp in his lamp, he takes one look at Victor, then starts pulling down on the rope. He slowly begins rising. Experimenting while he is still near the ground, he eases up on pulling, letting out rope; the seat begins lowering.
“Keep hold of the rope until it’s tied off,” Victor instructs, already below him, out of sight.
Holding the light between his thighs, beam shining upward, Daniel uses both hands to pull himself upward, like a slow robe climb, but with far less effort. He passes some large limbs, then smaller. He pulls himself up through what he thinks are leaves, then realizes they are artificial. The rope goes tight. He is at the top. He ties off the rope, letting the seat settle a little, then directs the beam to his left.
In a crotch of the tree is mounted what looked like a captain’s chair from a motor vehicle, complete with a five-point seat belt. A hand grip mounted to the trunk allows him to pull himself onto a step at the side of the seat. Pulling himself upright, he is standing beside the chair. He slips into it, for the first time having a full view of the perimeter area in front of him. He can see a quarter mile in each direction, as well as all the fencing within that stretch. He barely notices some kind of screening he is looking through.
“Send the chair back down,” Victor calls from below. “I’ll join you.”
Lowering the chair takes more effort than raising it, because of the counter balance. Only then does he notice that the rope is painted a mix of black, brown and dark green, camouflaged to blend in with the tree.
Soon Victor is beside him, but remains in the lift seat. He nods toward the fence line. “You can see everything, but they can’t see you. Even through binoculars, the netting looks like leaves; oak leaves. Day or night, they can’t see you. Only if you turn on a light - or light a cigarette - would they see anything. So no lights up here. And no smoking. The chair has two cup holders, holders for the headphones and binoculars; everything the lookout might need, all secured so that if dropped, they won’t fall. The head set allows them to hear without others hearing. And it is only for one ear. We want them to be able to hear any noise intruders make. They are being taught to speak in a whisper, so they can keep us advised as to the movement. If a group makes it through and passes under the tree, day or night, they will see nothing up here.”
“One thing,” Daniel volunteers, “this chair is really comfortable. What’s to keep them from falling asleep?”
“First of all, short shifts. Two hours is planned. No more then four. Second, a radio check every fifteen minutes; they are to respond to their call name. If they just can’t stay awake, they can ask for relief. We’ll try to assign therm hours where they would normally be awake. The late night shift will be the worse - both for sleepiness and the increased chance of a break in.”
When both are back on the ground, Daniel asks, “Do you really we need these?” looking up into the tree, but again seeing nothing - even though he knows what he is looking for.
“Just between you and me,” Victor relates as they head beck to the jeep. “We’ve already had ten trespassers. Eight were caught by patrol. Two got to one of the farms before being spotted. They’re digging under the fence. That will be stopped with the lookouts. Where we will really need them is if a large group trespasses. The sooner we�
�re aware of them, the quicker we can respond with appropriate manpower.”
“Those you caught . . . never mind. I don’t want to know.”
“Did we phase them?” Victor answers, smiling and nodding. “Low voltage. They were transferred to Lackland. Don’t know beyond that. But if they come in numbers, my men have instructions to use full setting. Same as if one is armed or shooting. We’re not going to take unnecessary risks. The signs warn them. They take their chances.”
“Well, I’m glad I don’t have your job. It was hard enough for me to shoot a Peace Keeper - just a machine. I don’t know if I could kill a person.”
“The law has . . . rather had . . . a standard for the use of deadly force. You can use deadly force if you fear for your life or for the life of another. That’s a pretty good rule. We train our men to think that way.”
“Well, I hope we never have to go to war with the public,” Daniels responds.
With both back and the ground, they continue the tour by making the full circuit, with Victor pointing out other lookout positions, none of which can be seen. When they get back to the village, Victor turns down the road leading to the gate at the beach.
Clearing with the soldiers manning the two permanent lake sentry posts, he unlocks the gate and they walk down to the beach and the dock. The patrol boat slowly idles past. The driver waves.
“Constant armed patrol. With mounted 50 caliber machine gun,” Victor points out. “The most likely way they’ll try to enter. We have six bunkers along the shore. Also with machine guns and hand-held rocket launchers. They can blow a boat out the water anywhere on the lake.” He turns and points back up the wooded slope to the village. “I believe that’s your apartment. Two of the lookouts are in sight of your balcony, but you’ll never see them.”
“OK. I’m impressed. It’s going to put a strain on our manpower, but I see it’s necessary. And comforting in another way. When they approved this expensive security measure, I’m sure they were thinking we would be around for some time to come.”