Fortress Farm Trilogy: Volumes 1, 2 & 3 (Fortress Farm Series)

by G. R. Carter

  Fredericks continued: “We’ve found twenty-three communities thus far, and you’ll have written reports in your red files tomorrow morning,” referring to the security folders Fredericks gave them whenever something of importance needed their review. With all the information Hamilton and Olsen were presented, they requested a system of prioritization.

  “Would you mind addressing the big ones right now? Anything stick out from their missions so far?” Sheriff Olsen asked.

  “Vincennes, Indiana was the biggest surprise. I don’t know how they escaped our detection before. They’re as big as we are…maybe bigger. Even with the Decatur assimilation,” Fredericks replied.

  The assimilation he referred to meant removal of all gangs remaining in the city after the SDC destroyed the organized resistance. One of Hamilton’s first orders as Founder set in motion the destruction of any outlaws still preying on surviving folks. The result was bloody and brutal, but fortunately quick. After removing the leadership of the group known as GangStars, the rest of the outlaws melted away. Fredericks couldn’t say for sure if they moved on to other towns or perhaps joined the Ditchmen gangs who still existed out in the unpopulated areas.

  “Will they be sending anyone to the summit?” Phil asked hopefully.

  “Indications are that they will,” Fredericks replied. “Sounds like they’ve got some trouble of their own that they want to talk about. Not like our problem with the Grays…they have a problem with groups coming up the river from further south. They attack the river towns using boats. Insert at night, pillage and kidnap, and then they’re gone as quick as they came.”

  “Are there any assembly plants near them still standing? If so, we could get more production of the Mark 3s from there. And parts that the Wizards are having trouble machining here might just be sitting there also. I know we’ve sent salvage crews, but mostly just searching for food. If Vincennes can help us secure the Indiana side of the river, we could safely secure our side with Little Egypt’s help,” Phil said, hopefully. “I wonder if we can find some more engineers who survived the collapse. The Wizards could use more help.”

  “The other Indiana towns not yet under Walsh’s Reconstruction should be there at the Summit. We can ask them, also. A lot of folks stayed in that area after retiring from the big manufacturers. I wonder if they’re having trouble with these river pirates, too.” Fredericks asked.

  “I’m thinking we can help them with some solutions to that. We might be able to loan out a couple of Raptor teams to search the rivers. I imagine that would establish a lot of goodwill, regardless if we actually find anything,” Olsen added.

  “Ok, I’ll make that part of my brief when the defense folks get together. Do we know what the official agenda is for the two days?” Fredericks asked.

  “Four days, not two,” Phil corrected. “Too much going on for just two days, so we’ve expanded it. Clearly, not everyone can afford to be gone from home that long, so we’re putting the most important stuff in the middle two days. But there will be things happening at the start and the end.”

  Hamilton laughed at the disgusted look on Fredericks’ face. The news of more political meetings came as the last thing this career military man wanted to hear. “Don’t worry, Commander. The field training exercises are still your responsibility…the meetings will be taken care of by the sheriff and myself. However, I hope you’ll use the extra time to get to know some of your peers. Common defense is on the schedule for discussion.”

  Relief washed over Fredericks. “I’m going to take Alex and Eric with me if that’s ok,” Fredericks said. “I was very impressed by their field craft while we were smoking out the Rateaters in Decatur. Some of the troops who joined us after we defeated Major Stillman still hold a little grudge against me and the Ten Vets. But everyone really seems to like those two. Especially the younger guys.”

  Fredericks shook his head and continued. “I don’t know what it is with that generation; they just seem to be handling this whole ‘collapse of the known world’ thing a lot better than we are.”

  “I appreciate the vote of confidence in our sons, Commander. I really do. I know what you mean about the younger generation. We sit and pray for the return of the United States, and the young bucks strut around bragging about beating the ‘Americans’. It’s beyond disconcerting,” Hamilton told him.

  “Right. The real kicker is that these soldiers from Decatur just accept the fact that ultimately Alex will be in charge someday. I mean after you retire. And they all think Eric will be sheriff and director of security,” Fredericks informed them.

  “None of that has been decided,” Hamilton replied defensively. The fear of a strongman government originally made the Founder reject his new position. The SDC founders discussed how to keep a balance between quick decisions and input from everyone. Nothing was ever decided, except that Phil would be in charge for now.

  “We want to stop that kind of thinking right now. We’ve already got a quasi–feudal system establishing itself around the Fortress Farms. Land Lords and Tenants…how did we let that happen?”

  Olsen continued for him: “Commander, I think what Phil and I are worried about is what happens if one of our offspring goes off the rails. Then they’ll be no better than the Grays or this madman in Aurora your Gray spies told you about.”

  Fredericks held up a hand to deflect the criticism from himself. “Gentlemen, please don’t shoot the messenger. I understand your concern. I just wanted to let you know what the undercurrent is. The troops can see what life is like outside the protection of the SDC. We didn’t spend our formative years wondering if Ditchmen were going to drag you out of our beds. If we wanted to feed our babies, we went to McDonalds or we flashed our Wristbands at the Get–Mart. Even before the Reset, most of the teenagers in this area didn’t have much hope for a brighter future. The trauma of the last couple of years made them grow up at an alarming rate.

  “These guys like the security. And if they like the guys in charge, they don’t see a reason to change. They look at elections and term limits as distractions for those with too much time on their hands. They like Alex and Eric, and they’ll follow them into battle. I’ve seen it with my own eyes,” Fredericks concluded.

  “And you think the other communities will respond the same way that the Decatur troops have?” Olsen asked.

  “Without a doubt. Here’s the other thing. We’re splitting these Decatur troops up and sending them to the four corners of SDC territory. That way we can keep any of the ones with questionable loyalties separated. They’ll all have to earn their keeps out on the Fortress Farms, and should integrate nicely with the communities there. Become part of them just like me and the Ten Vets did here. When those men go out to the remote farms, they’ll be taking the legend of Alex and Eric with them,” Fredericks said, pausing to make sure both men understood what he was about to say. “Nothing binds communities together like legends of young heroes. Whatever you may think of the process, the greater good of our alliance is served by giving folks a common belief in the future. Alex and Eric are the kind of guys people will follow, trust me.”

  Phil put his face in his palms then rubbed his temples. “Clark, once we get this summit behind us, we’ve got to speed up the process of electing a House of Neighbors. You know, like the one that Old Main College is implementing. We have to get the power out of this office as soon as possible. Get the final decisions out of our hands and into someone elected by the people. Agreed?”

  To Phil’s shock, Olsen hesitated. “I'm not so sure anymore, old friend. I’m starting to wonder if a big election process is the right move. So far, the Founder position has been pretty successful in my book.”

  Phil sat and stared at Olsen. An uncomfortable moment became a minute, and still Hamilton said nothing.

  Finally, he spoke: “We’ve spent hours talking about elections. You promised when I took this post we would get the power out of my hands as soon as we could. What happened to a return to a United St
ates-type republic?”

  “Oh please, Phil. You and I both know that the United States was no more a republic than the old socialist empires we learned about in history class. I mean sure, it started that way. But do you really want to create another Federal DC? Just to repeat the mistakes of the past?” Olsen asked.

  Fredericks was noticeably uncomfortable watching the two men argue. Typically, they were of one mind on major issues.

  Hamilton replied: “So what? You want to set up a dictatorship? Those never last.”

  “Neither did the United States! And I’m not talking about a dictatorship. I think this House of Neighbors plan is great. For the everyday stuff and certainly to give input on the big stuff. But someone like you has to be the final word. Call the shots without having to worry about raising money to buy an election. Make the hard decisions because it’s right, not because it might gain a few votes,” Olsen concluded testily.

  “And you think our boys are the ones to do that?” Hamilton asked incredulously.

  “Not right now, they’re not even married yet. Although I hear Alex has struck up quite a friendship with the oldest Ruff girl,” Olsen said, finally smiling again. “Haven’t you noticed how often he volunteers to take the message packets over to Old Main?

  “And Eric and Lorraine stop and talk to each other every chance they get,” he continued, referring to his son and the oldest Hamilton daughter.

  “Why do I never know this stuff?” Phil complained.

  “Because, sir, you’re always here or on one of the farms. Making inspections and helping out. It’s not my place, but may I suggest you spend some time at Schoolhouse Hill before attending the alliance meeting? I think it would mean a lot to all of them,” Fredericks added.

  “Don’t call me sir, Commander. And I will take your suggestion under advisement.” He quickly smiled and nodded at Fredericks as soon as he realized the tone of his words. He hadn’t meant to snap at him.

  “All right, Clark. We’ll pick this up again as soon as we get the summit behind us. I think we really need to do some major soul-searching and put a plan on paper. With the way the world is these days, we never know when we might need a succession plan,” Phil concluded.

  As the men all stood to gather their materials, Phil stopped them again.

  “Oh, hey, Commander Fredericks. Make sure that the Raptor teams visit Scottsville. I felt bad we couldn’t help them before, and now maybe we can at least loan them one or two of the old Snapping Turtles to shore up their defenses. Or maybe get them combined with another community closer to them. That mayor of theirs deserves the help, making the trip all the way here by himself,” Phil said to the SDC officer.

  Fredericks looked dejectedly over at Olsen, hoping that the sheriff might relieve the burden of telling Hamilton what they both already knew.

  Olsen took the lead after a moment of hesitation. “Phil, we didn’t want to tell you this, because we knew you’d take it hard. Probably blame yourself. But remember, just like you said before, there’s only so many of us, and we can’t be everywhere,” the sheriff said to his friend.

  “What? Tell me what? What are you guys talking about?” Phil demanded.

  Olsen sighed and looked the Founder of the Okaw Valley Self Defense Cooperative right in the eyes. “The Raptor teams have already been to Scottsville. The whole town was gutted…attacked by someone a few weeks ago. They didn’t find any survivors.”

  Chapter Ten – Shield of the Okaw

  Old Main College

  Morning of the Alliance Summit

  Over Two Years after the Great Reset

  The flies. Never imagined the flies could ever be this bad, Phil thought as he feigned attention to the speaker at the front of the assembly hall. Fine, let’s go do it then instead of talking about it, Phil insisted silently to the stuffed suit. Since they lost reliable heating and cooling, the only way to even out the Midwestern climate was to have every window and door wide open or sealed tight depending on the month. Even with screens (when they had screens, anyway) industrious little insects and rodents made their way into every room.

  Between flies and mosquitos, post-Reset life became a world where every room had both old-fashioned paper paddles to provide a breeze and flyswatters to swing. Phil made a mental note: next salvage mission, DDT was on the pick list. Abandoned homes and cities made perfect breeding grounds for mosquitos. There was no way to prevent the diseases that came with the biting insects or the infections they caused without killing the culprits at the source. I wonder if Rachel Carson ever had to witness the effects of West Nile virus, Phil wondered. Sometimes free speech comes with a price.

  “Here is what we propose,” the President of the Wabash Alliance shouted above the crowd. “Please refer to the pamphlet being distributed now. I think you can see that it is an ambitious but fair agreement that brings us all into line with one another.”

  Phil looked over at Julia Ruff and smirked. The man speaking made it clear at dinner the night before that having the leader of the Okaw Valley SDC or Old Main College head up the new alliance would look bad. Because the two were the largest powers in the proposed group, someone from a smaller place, like Carlisle, would be a better choice. The Indianan “reluctantly” offered himself for the task. He wasn’t a completely bad guy, just your typical holdover politician from the old world. One who spoke of a life of public service and sacrifice while making a very nice living. He’s doing good…in fact, he’s doing very well indeed, was the old joke. Mr. Mayor of Carlisle was just the kind of parasite that weakened the old America.

  Phil looked over the paper pamphlet. Clean white paper had become a luxury to the survivors of the Reset. Carlisle government offices must have held this back for a special occasion like the Alliance Summit.

  Let’s see. Number one is “providing for a common defense.” Okay, I suppose that means my Raptors and Turtles on call all the time. Phil made a check mark next to the line.

  Number two, “freedom of speech.” No problems there, as long as it’s all speech and not ‘to be determined’ later by a group of offended politicians. Another check.

  Number three…huh, that’s surprising. I thought we’d have to do some convincing to get them to accept Quarter-Bushels.

  The Okaw Valley SDC’s farmstead system had unintentionally created its own currency. In this case, a quarter bushel of soybeans had become the unit of measure for trade in the county’s area of influence. Since soybeans were used in fuel production as well as for food, the hardy little plant was the staple of life in the Okaw Valley. The ability to replant directly from the prior year’s harvest meant that no one controlled the seed needed to grow a crop. And there was never enough of it to satisfy all needs.

  Grain elevators became a type of bank that people sold their harvest to. In some cases, Land Lords stored their grain there for sale at a later date. In exchange, the elevators would give the owner of the grain a SoyScrip, denoting credit exchangeable for goods or services from any provider who would accept them.

  Because blank paper was becoming scarce, Phil and Dalton Cornin, the First State Bank President, agreed on a system providing a more reliable tender. United States currency became worthless after the Reset and gold and silver actually held little value to most hungry survivors. However, it was decided that the United States Quarter coin would represent one quarter of a bushel of soybeans. Hundreds of thousands of quarters sat useless and coins would last much longer than paper in their harsh world.

  Coins were distributed to the grain elevators to exchange for soybeans brought in by farmers. Within just a year, people who used to speak in terms of dollars now spoke of Quarters. Instead of a paper currency worth nothing more than the fibers it was printed on, the hard metal in each coin represented an actual commodity that could be exchanged.

  Even though the people of the Okaw Valley SDC identified themselves less as Americans every day, they retained the old ingenuity that made the former country great. Enterprising groups of p
rivateers began searching the dead cities on their own, looking in abandoned banks for old Quarter coins. While useless to the skeletal survivors in the ruins, Quarters became a sought-after item to independent salvagers. Men and women who didn’t want to live the farm life and didn’t want to become a tradesman in the towns could join a private salvage crew organized by those who chose to live a more adventurous life outside the school shelters or Fortress Farms.

  The Council had first objected to scrappers profiting from missions that should have benefited all of the Okaw people. But Hamilton and Olsen both reminded the Council that this was free enterprise, something that might have saved the old country. Besides, these privateer crews didn’t pass up anything the SDC had on their pick lists. Phil agreed to pay the entrepreneurs for bringing in needed items at no risk to his own crews.

  The privateers had been dubbed “miners” by the banks and grain elevators. But no matter how many rolls of Quarters were found in banks, old stores or even homes, there were still a lot more bushels of soybeans than coins. SoyScrips and paper ledgers still filled the need for wealth tracking in the grain elevators. SDC deputies escorted couriers who transferred the ledgers to the bank vaults on a nightly or weekly basis.

  This SoyScrip and Quarter-Bushel currency system was now being exported to some of the surrounding communities that Okaw Valley came into contact with. Old Main College was considering using Quarters, and the implementation of a common currency was high on the agenda for their summit meeting.

  Number four – official declaration that our alliance represents the real America, and a return to flying the American flag and the use of all symbols associated with the United States of America. No way was that going to fly. The younger members of the Okaw Valley SDC despised the American flag now. Besides, that would be major confusion on the battlefield – New America used all the old country’s symbols – and besides, I kind of like our new flag. The Greenfield Shield currently hung over every farm and building associated with the Okaw Valley SDC.