Warlord 2: The Nobility

by CJ Williams

  Still, the farming community around Lawrence, Kansas, was not the most progressive in the world. Carrie wasn’t sure if the locals would be on board with the changes that Congressman Morán was promoting and she didn’t want to highlight her role in the process. On this trip, she just wanted to be the prodigal daughter, returning briefly to the family farm to spend time with Dad.

  Carrie looked around the yard. The old barns were a bit more dilapidated. The new red one, made of metal, was in good shape; it was where her dad kept the tractors. She peered through the opened sliding doors. The big green Deere 8400 that she knew so well was still there. She had spent many a day in its cab.

  The fields on three sides of the farm were freshly harrowed. The southeast eighty that ran along the river bank was green. Her dad used alfalfa as a cover crop. The sight filled her with nostalgia.

  Her old blue pickup was gone. That was a surprise; it had some life left in it.

  A noise drifted from the house and her spirits rose. She hoped he was here. She hurried across the yard and shouted as she opened the screen door, “Dad! I’m here!”

  A vaguely familiar woman was vacuuming the living room. She looked up, startled, at Carrie’s sudden entrance.

  “Who are you?” Carrie asked. “Where’s Dad?”

  “I’m Margaret,” the woman said uncomfortably. “Your father is at the bank.”

  “Margaret?” Saying the name out loud brought back the memories. “Of course. The John Deere lady. How are you? Long time no see. I haven’t thought… Why are you vacuuming the living room?”

  Margaret kicked the OFF button on the base of the vacuum, bringing silence to the house. “I live here now,” she replied anxiously. “I told your father he should let you know. I said you would understand.” She stood nervously waiting for a response. “I hope I was right.”

  The light went on for Carrie. She used to tease her father about his repeated trips, mostly unnecessary, to the local John Deere dealership. More than once she had encouraged him to move ahead if he wanted romance in his life.

  A smile crossed Carrie’s lips. “I don’t think I can call you Mom. But if you promise to be good to him, how about Maggie? As I recall, that’s what you go by.”

  Maggie’s relief was obvious. “Oh, I’m so glad. You’re right. I just want your father to be happy with us.”

  Carrie walked over and gave Maggie a hug. “That works for me. So what prompted the big decision? Was it the right time?”

  Maggie nodded, pulling Carrie into the kitchen. She took a pitcher of tea from the fridge and poured two small glasses. “I think so,” she said. “After you went off this last time, he was just so lonely, and he proposed. He wasn’t sure when you were coming back.”

  “I’m glad, really,” Carrie reassured her new stepmother. “You two are a good match. If I had known he was so close, I would have encouraged him more.” Carrie gave Maggie an inquiring look. “Don’t you have a kid or two?”

  “Rubie and Booker,” Maggie answered. “Rubie is still in school…third grade. She’ll be home soon.” Maggie cast a worried glance toward Carrie’s old bedroom.

  Carrie guessed what prompted Maggie’s apologetic tone when talking about Rubie. “So I guess I’ll be sleeping in the spare room?” Carrie suggested.

  Maggie winced. “Sorry. Your room was just so nice with the morning sun. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Carrie smiled. “Not at all. What about Booker?”

  “He works in Lawrence. He’s the manager for a local store, part of a chain. He’ll probably be here after work. Your father fixed up the extra room in the garage for Booker. He stays in there. He’s old enough to need some privacy.”

  That left the spare bedroom empty. Carrie inquired about it.

  “We moved all your things,” Maggie said. “I wanted you to feel like this was still your home.”

  “Let’s check it out then, shall we?” It was clear Maggie needed some validation.

  Carrie didn’t try to stifle her delighted gasp when she entered. It looked exactly like her old room. She had never considered how similar the two rooms were. Growing up, this was always a storage dump. But now, decorated with her own things, it was transformed. Even the sun coming in was the same, but it was the afternoon sun instead of morning.

  “It’s perfect,” Carrie said approvingly. “Look. You even got my billboard right. I can’t tell any difference.”

  “I took photos before we started. I wanted your things to be in the right spot.”

  Carrie had wondered if she would feel at home, but now the doubts vanished, even with a surprise stepmom.

  “You said Dad was at the bank?” Carrie asked once they had settled again at the round kitchen table. “Any problems?”

  Maggie shrugged. “I’m not sure. He’s had a rough couple of years because of prices. And the Bakkui attack made it worse for everyone. He’s trying to get the farm refinanced but they’re being difficult. I’m a little worried.”

  George? Pay off my dad’s farm loan. Make sure he’ll never have money problems again. Carrie felt a little guilty for abusing her authority, but it was only a twinge. Plans were solidifying in the back of her mind, and if she went through with it, this might be the last thing she could do for her father and his new family.

  Acknowledged, Admiral. Your father is at the bank now. Should I have the bank make him aware?

  Carrie leaned back in her chair and looked at the ceiling. “Sure, why not?”

  Maggie gave her a puzzled look. “Why not what?”

  Carrie shook her head. “Nothing. But I have a feeling that everything will work out with the bank. So tell me what you two have been up to this last year. I put photos on Instagram now and then so Dad would know what I’m doing.”

  The Moonbase George had long ago sorted out the coordination for posting to Earthside social media. Even from Bradley’s Planet, when message drones sent weekly reports to Earth, everyone’s updates went along.

  Maggie brightened; she had seen the photos. When new ones appeared, she cast them to the TV screen for her husband and daughter. Her dad was still proud of her accomplishments.

  Carrie enjoyed visiting with her new stepmother. She steered the conversation away from her own activities or anything about the Bakkui. It was pleasant to talk about the farm and the John Deere dealership. Forgotten names came up in the conversation and filled Carrie with a sort of wistfulness. She wouldn’t trade her experiences with the Commander, but on occasions such as these, she acknowledged she had given up a lot in exchange. She missed the simple life of rural America.

  When Carrie was in high school she assumed she would marry a farmer and have a few kids because that’s what all of her friends did. But along the way those dreams faded. She wanted something different. The uncertain desire drove her to college and eventually into answering an enticing advertisement about a research company doing exciting work in a remote location. The ad had just the right amount of mystery for her to send off an application. Little did she realize at the time that it would lead her out into the galaxy.

  A noise drifted through the screen door.

  “That’s Rubie coming,” Maggie said.

  Rubie was introduced to her new big sister and was appropriately awed by the dashing woman she had seen on television. She wanted to show off her bedroom and Carrie, in turn, was appropriately impressed.

  Carrie heard the familiar sound before anyone else; a pickup was coming down the dirt driveway. “Dad’s home,” she whispered, almost to herself.

  Maggie took Rubie by the hand. “Come on, sugar, let’s get dinner started.”

  Carrie ran out the front door to see her dad pulling up. She waved both hands over her head and waited until he parked and opened the driver door before she charged. He caught her and whirled her around effortlessly, just as he had all her life. He was still a strong, powerful man.

  “The banker told me you paid off the note,” he said with surprise in his voice.

  “I
had to do something with all my back pay. You know we don’t use money out there.”

  “What about when you retire? You’ll have to have a nest egg to get by. I can’t let you do that, baby.”

  “It’s already done, Daddy,” Carrie insisted. “Besides, I just bought a farm of my own. It’s on Mars! I’m a lavender farmer now.” Carrie laughed as she told her father the extraordinary news, and she loved the way he smiled in appreciation.

  “Well, send me some seed then,” he said. “Maybe I can put in a crop here.”

  Carrie promised to do so. “I was glad to see Maggie,” she said. “About time, too.”

  “I was worried you might not understand.”

  “I’ve been telling you all my life it’s okay.”

  “I know, but still.”

  Inside the farmhouse, the atmosphere became jovial and lasted through dinner. Carrie told her family about her adventures, downplaying her own role and instead accentuating the accomplishments of Commander Blackburn.

  Her father nodded in the right places, her new stepmom tried to look interested, but both of them were Kansas folks through and through. Most of the tale went over their head. Once Rubie started to fidget, Maggie excused herself and left Carrie and her father to settle in the living room and continue their reunion.

  Finally, her dad asked the question. “So what happened? I can tell you’re avoiding something.”

  Carrie was glad that so far she had been able to relate her experiences dry-eyed. It came to an end with her next sentence. “I killed some people by accident.” She couldn’t stem the tears. “I was really upset, so the Commander sent me back for R&R.”

  “Smart guy. I imagine you beat yourself up pretty bad.”

  Carrie nodded silently, wiping her cheeks.

  “You should,” her father said. “Even in war, you have to take responsibility. But there’s a big difference between taking responsibility responsibly, and just feeling guilty. Sounds like you and your boss are doing it the right way.”

  “It’s been really difficult for me lately. I can’t go back and pick up where I was, but I want to do something. I would feel better about myself if I could help the Commander somehow.”

  “That’s a good attitude,” he said. “Everyone can make a contribution. I ever tell you about my greeter? I had a greeter long before Wal-Mart.”

  Carrie shook her head. In fact, she had heard the story a hundred times, but tonight she wanted to hear her dad talk.

  “The guy was my secretary in the military. He could not type to save his life. Every time I proofed a document he’d bring it back with all new mistakes. It wasn’t on purpose; he really tried. But the thing about the military is, you can’t fire people. You have to find a place for them. As it happened, in the job I had then I held a lot of important meetings. So I made him my greeter. He loved it. Everyone who came in the door, he took care of them and got them situated. Folks appreciated it.”

  Carrie smiled at her father. “These days they call those people event managers.”

  Her father laughed at the title. “Well, I hope he found a job like that when he got out. But my point is, I know there is something for you to do in this big war.”

  “There already is,” Carrie said slowly. “But it would mean leaving again. I’m not sure how long.”

  “Is it dangerous?”

  “Not really,” Carrie lied.

  “Well, then. You may as well get started. Sooner you help, sooner the war is over.”

  Carrie heard another pickup out in the front yard.

  “That’ll be Booker,” her dad said. “You should say hello; Maggie would like that.” Her father cast a furtive glance toward the kitchen. “Go easy on the kid. He’s…not like you. I better go help Maggie.” He lunged off the couch and headed toward his domestic life.

  Carrie wondered what her father meant as she went out on the front porch to meet her stepbrother. Booker was about twenty, thin, with lank hair and a bobbing Adam’s apple. He was also driving her pickup.

  He looked at her suspiciously. “Who’re you?”

  “Carrie Faulkner. I’m your big sister. Dad told me to get to know you.”

  “Oh.” The answer seemed to mollify the skeptical Booker, but he accepted the information with an ill-concealed frown. He held his arms out awkwardly. Carrie interpreted the gesture as an offer of welcome to the family.

  She gave him a quick hug.

  “You’re with that Space Camp group, aren’t you?” Booker asked.

  Carrie was amused by his question and understood her father’s gentle warning. She decided Booker hadn’t meant any harm.

  “Sort of. We don’t call it a Space Camp though. We call it the Milky Way Alliance. Come sit down.” Carrie settled in one of the porch’s rattan rocking chairs and gestured to Booker to take the other. “What about you? What do you do?”

  Booker puffed up a fraction. “I manage the store,” he announced.

  “What store?” Carrie asked.

  “Knock Yourself Off,” he said. “You’ve heard of it. It’s the biggest coke and cannabis chain in the state. Probably in the entire country.”

  “Coke and cannabis?” The idea startled Carrie. “You mean like cocaine and marijuana? In Kansas?”

  “Hello? Life is pretty hard these days. It’s stressful for people in this economy. You should be glad that we’re replacing criminal prosecution with legalization and education.”

  “Okay,” Carrie said agreeably. “I hadn’t heard about it.”

  Booker continued to explain in his whiny voice. “There have been a lot of changes lately. We can’t afford to keep building prisons. Did you know that over…”

  Carrie didn’t try to listen to his rehearsed litany. Her younger stepbrother was obviously well-trained. The marijuana didn’t surprise her that much, but legalized cocaine did.

  At her mental inquiry George confirmed that Booker’s statement was true. Thirty-eight of the continental US states had now passed some form of what was called the “Sherlock Holmes Bill,” legalizing the sale of a seven percent solution of the deadly drug. The plain fact was that when heavily taxed it reduced crime and became a profitable revenue stream for states that were struggling financially. The Bakkui attack had drained the economy even more than the country’s self-confidence. Sales of recreational drugs were up almost everywhere.

  “My district supervisor said I was one of his best managers,” Booker concluded while preening.

  Carrie examined him closely. “You’re not using the stuff, are you?”

  “You sound like Mom,” Booker whined. “I’m allergic. But I get an employee discount if you want some.”

  “No, no, no. Thanks anyway.”

  Booker looked disappointed. Another sale lost. “What about you?” he asked. “What do you do at your space thingy?”

  “I’m on leave right now,” she replied. “But I was part of the force that’s fighting the Bakkui. We’re developing new weapons and new technology to keep them from ever coming back to Earth.”

  Booker’s perpetually skeptical expression darkened slightly. “My girlfriend, Mary Jane, said the Bakkui thing is a hoax. She thinks it’s the Chinese.”

  Carrie wasn’t sure how to respond. “Well, I can tell you it’s not a hoax. I’ve seen them.”

  “Mary Jane says it’s impossible to go faster than light. When a particle gets close to the speed of light, it takes more energy to go faster because particles get more massive in relation to their velocity.”

  Mary Jane sounded like an educated person. “Is she a theoretical physicist?” Carrie asked.

  Booker scoffed at the notion. “She’s a performance artist.” Booker’s pride was obvious. “You must have heard of her. Her stage name is Mean Mary Jane. She works at Zonkers. Everyone says she has the sickest act ever. I got tickets if you want.”

  “No, no,” Carrie replied hurriedly; she had no desire to learn what the sickest act ever entailed. “But thanks anyway.”

  “So
do you go faster than light?”

  Carrie nodded. “We use gravity drives.”

  “What’s a gravity drive?” Booker asked.

  “It’s what powers our spaceships.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t really know, Booker.”

  “See? That’s what she means. She said no one will give a straight answer, so it’s probably not true.”

  Fair enough, Carrie thought. “Well, I know generally, but I’m not a physicist. You’re aware of dark energy, right? Scientists disagree, but some say that it’s a gravitational force that’s responsible for the expansion of the universe.”

  Booker cocked his head like a dog watching TV.

  Carrie gently probed his understanding. “Dark energy?”

  “You mean like Darth Vader?” he asked.

  Carrie sighed. “Let’s try it another way. You know when you turn on a light bulb, electricity passes through a filament that emits energy in the form of heat and light?”

  “Okay.”

  “Well, a gravity drive is similar, except the filament is a fairly complicated matrix of special alloys. When excited by an electrical current it emits dark energy with that same gravitational push. More current, more push. That’s about all I know.”

  Booker thought about it. “Where does the current come from?”

  “Onboard generators use the same principal. Small drives built into the armature make the rotor spin. A feed off the coil powers the armature drives. It uses a lot less power than it makes.”

  “That’s impossible,” Booker protested.

  Carrie shrugged. “I thought so too. But I guess it works.”

  Booker’s face contorted as he considered the information. “I’m not sure Mary Jane would buy that,” he concluded.

  “That’s okay,” Carrie said. “The important thing is it brought me home. I’m glad to see that I have a brother now. I always wanted a little brother and sister. So thanks.” Impulsively, Carrie gave Booker a hug. He accepted it stoically.

  Maggie opened the screen door. “Looks like you two are getting along. Dinner’s ready.”