“The times are no longer Fort Apache on the frontier or medieval barons holed up in their castles,” Dale replied. “It is time to bring back a broader authority and stability.”
“But stripping out the core of the strength of my community now? I’d like to see something else in place first.”
“In fact, you’re about to see that, John. I have assets reporting in this weekend that I think you’ll find to be rather impressive and definitely reassuring. I wish they had come in first before the draft notices went out. Their presence would have alleviated your concerns about defense of your community in the future.”
“Like what?”
“I’ve been promised some air support, for starters.”
“Air?”
“Not for public consumption, so keep that under your hat for now. For some folks here, I’d prefer it to be a surprise, if you know what I mean.”
“Air support from where? Nearly everything stateside was fried by the EMP.”
“Again, not allowed to discuss that. Let’s just say some overseas equipment is finally making its way back here. The government decided some of it can be spared as needed by local administrative areas. I put in a strong request. So even as your personnel head off for training, I’ll have some darn good backup in place for your community and this entire region. Is that fair enough?”
“We’ll see, but there is a second question just as burning. Just where in the hell are these kids going to serve with this ANR?”
“Ours not to reason why,” Dale said softly.
“‘Theirs but to do and die’?” Makala interjected.
Dale looked at her a bit taken aback, and John realized that Dale did not know the line from the ironic poem.
“Tennyson describing the disaster of the Charge of the Light Brigade in a long-ago war,” Makala said. “That is not a fate for any of the young men and women of our town.”
“I spoke too flippantly; forgive me,” Dale replied. “John—” He hesitated and then nodded to Makala. “And you too, ma’am—I have no idea as to where your daughter will be assigned. This is a national mobilization, a million strong. We need to constitute an army within our own continent. Most of our military based here in the States when all this started was as decimated as the civilian population. We have, at best, a few hundred thousand under arms within our borders. We have to secure our borders, hopefully just by a show of will.”
“Why not just federalize the National Guard?” John asked.
“Good question, John. That was seriously discussed, but it was quickly realized it would be all but impossible. The high casualty rate within the United States decimated Guard members the same as everyone else. Databases have been lost, and there isn’t a single state government that is running efficiently enough to coordinate bringing Guard units into national service. It was realized we needed to start from scratch again—and thus the Army of National Recovery. This force, once created, will not even have to fight other than containing lawlessness in some regions. Once our borders are resecured, the military can return to its mission of stabilizing places still in chaos. When that happens, the ANR stands down, and all your sons and daughters will be back home by Christmas.”
“I seem to recall that kind of promise at the start of nearly every war,” Makala replied coolly. “‘They’ll be home by Christmas.’ That is most reassuring.”
There appeared to be a glint of anger in Dale’s eyes, even though he held his smile without flinching. “I’ll tell you what,” he said, standing up, clearly indicating the meeting was drawing to a close. “I can at least do this, but for heaven’s sake, don’t let anyone outside your community know this. The notices said to report here in three days. Let’s just say that was a misprint, and it is thirty days hence. That will give me time to file your concerns back to Bluemont and give you a chance to see that I am a man of my word when it comes to the fact that I promise we’ll have a region-wide defense force in place to cover for communities such as yours so that you no longer need your small, independent commands—and I’ll see if I can better clarify terms of service. Is that fair for right now?”
John hesitated but then finally nodded in agreement. He looked over to Makala, who smiled, nodded as well, and actually said, “Thank you, sir.”
“Good, then that’s settled. Now you must excuse me; I am swamped, which I think you can understand. Get back to your people, calm things down, and we’ll be in touch and see what can be done, let’s say in a week or so. Does that work for you?”
John stood and nodded.
“And please don’t construe this the wrong way. Your daughter’s age?”
“Eighteen, and she is the mother of a fourteen-month-old boy whose father was killed in the fighting with the Posse.” He hesitated, ashamed to mention it as if seeking sympathy, but it spilled from him. “Her younger sister died of diabetes last year, as well. She is all we have left.”
Dale looked at Makala with soulful eyes. “I am sorry about the loss of your daughter, ma’am. I know deferments for draftees with dependent children have been dropped, but—and again, please don’t take this the wrong way—I think you have good grounds for an appeal that I can move forward. Especially if she is serving as your assistant or in some capacity vital to the area’s security beyond that of just simply carrying arms.”
“Elizabeth is my adopted daughter,” Makala replied. “And at the moment, she serves in the local militia, helps with the community farm acreage, and takes care of her son and her grandmother, like so many of the other kids in our community.” She stared straight at him, and his eyes dropped.
“We’ve all lost someone,” he said.
“And you?”
He hesitated. “Strange, but maybe lucky. I had no one special when the Day hit. I was part of the personnel evacuated out of Washington. I had two sisters; we were never close, really. I married some years ago and then divorced and lost track of where my ex was even before the war hit us. And so I just buried myself in work.”
“Such as?” Makala pressed.
There was a look in his eyes, but it passed like a shadow. “Working for the federal government, of course, to try to bring order out of chaos. I was ordered to report up to Bluemont to help with the work of reorganization and then was assigned to the field—meaning here—two months ago. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really am late for my next meeting. I’ll take care of the thirty-day extension on the draft in your community and will be in touch. I know you’ll clearly see that our district has become safe for law-abiding citizens within a matter of days.”
John looked at him quizzically, but long experience told him that this man was not going to say anything more. He had at least gotten a temporary reprieve for his entire community. Whatever Fredericks’s actions were going to be, he’d have to let him play them out.
Dale stepped out from behind his desk, opened the door to his office, and motioned for Makala, who nodded her thanks as she exited with John following her. Dale shook John’s hand in the hallway and then returned to his office while they headed for the exit and out into the early afternoon heat. John spared a sharp glance for the sergeant who had troubled him earlier, but the man’s gaze was fixed straight ahead as if John didn’t exist. John and Makala walked slowly to where Ed and Grace were leaning against the hood of the Edsel.
“What do you think?” Makala whispered.
“Well, I didn’t expect the extension. I’m highly skeptical that a central government can secure our communities. We understand the nuances and threats better than they ever can. If they had shown up with a million extra rations as a reserve for the winter ahead, some farming equipment, electrical generators, additional communications gear, some tech people to help us get things up and running, or a darn-good, fully stocked field medical unit that can move from community to community, now those would be blessings I’d be overjoyed to see. That’s the kind of help I was hoping for, not this pulling out of those we need the most not just for defense but also for rebuilding.”