Killswitch Chronicles- The Complete Anthology

by G. R. Carter

  Julia rose and walked to the foggy window looking out over the empty street one floor down. “Alex’s vision is right. I believe in it. He’s going to recreate something like the United States right here, something future generations will look back on and study just like we do with Jefferson and Paine. A structure that has true accountability long after we’re gone.”

  “Are you seriously suggesting elections for the Founder’s Chair?” Martin asked.

  “Maybe. Why is that so ridiculous a thought?”

  “Look what happened to the United States!”

  “That wasn’t the fault of elections. That was the lack of meaningful elections. No, we won’t ever allow the republic to turn into a mob rule democracy. We’ll let the patriots remind us of that. But a Founder elected from amongst the Senators? Yes, I could see that.”

  A knock at the door announced the arrival of late lunch in the form of a tray of small sandwiches. The opening door allowed the music of a three-piece chamber group filter in, entertaining the Senate’s mid-afternoon break with a mix of classical and new arrangements. Most of the attendees were milling about, discussing the day’s events or more likely the condition of the winter crops. Julia and Martin remained secluded in the small office assigned to her as President Pro Tempore. Neither enjoyed the small talk associated with such gatherings, instead anxious to take advantage of a rare opportunity to catch up with a friend in a world of limited communication.

  Wonderful aromas reminded them of how long-ago breakfast had been. Dark, crisp bread held fresh ham with thick slices of rich cheese. Surrounding the platter were dried fruits and nuts, crispy potato wedges, plus small cubes of a different kind of cheese, lighter in color and sharper in smell. The server poured two cups of chicory coffee, nodded politely and closed the door behind him. Martin said a quick blessing and smiled. “Sure beats the old days of ration bars and whatever cans we could scrounge up.”

  “And venison. Good Lord, if I don’t ever eat another piece of deer meat, I will be okay.”

  “Beats starving—”

  “—but not by much!” they said in unison. The saying became common around the Fortress Farms of the Republic since the hunger pains of the Reset. The darkness had finally faded enough to joke about something so deadly.

  “You know what I miss? I miss fresh fruit in the middle of winter,” Julia said.

  “Yup. And on-demand digital music,” Martin replied.

  “Real air conditioning in the summer. And something in between blazing hot and freezing cold in the winter.”

  “Sci-fi movies. And pro football!”

  Julia laughed. “The younger ones don’t get it when we start reminiscing,” she said. “Most of them don’t remember any other world. Sounds like science fiction to them.”

  “Maybe that’s better.”

  The two ate in comfortable silence, enjoying the warm, rich tastes. All survivors of the Reset held food in near religious reference. When only the little treats remained, Julia finally decided to satisfy her curiosity about something.

  “Has Alex brought up a new constitution with you?”

  “Briefly. Wanted my input on legally raising a militia, commander-in-chief…chain of command kind of things. Just wanted some guidelines.”

  “I’m positive he’ll propose one next Founder’s Day. Bek’s been drafting it for about six months, but I don’t know for sure how close they are to complete.”

  “Huh, I’m surprised she isn’t leaning on you for advice,” Fredericks said.

  Julia laughed. “I had over twenty years to cram my beliefs into her brain. If it hasn’t taken by now, nothing I say is going to influence her. Those two know exactly what they want, and I sure can’t read their minds.”

  “I’m learning that the hard way. Not about Alex and Bek, just about reading the minds of kids,” Fredericks said.

  Julia nodded and smiled. “I’m really glad you and Maggie found each other, Martin. You two seem great together, and those kids are really lucky to have you in their life.”

  “We’ll see about that, I’m trying my best. I thank the Creator every day for all three of them. Made me a different man.”

  “They’ll change you every day. Just wait until the grandkids come along. That’s another change altogether.”

  “Let’s not rush things! I hope I’ve got a while before that, and Maggie sure doesn’t need anything else to worry about.”

  “She seems to be handling it all just fine. I wish she could have stayed on for the assembly. I really enjoy our talks. The letters are great, but it just doesn’t feel the same.”

  “She feels the same about you Julia, she really does. But Alex was insistent on all the provincial governors staying away from the Senate meeting. Said he didn’t want the extra pressure…what?” he said at the look on Julia’s face.

  “That’s a convenient excuse for him and Bek not having to come! Or Sam, for that matter! He’s just like his father was, he’ll grasp any reason for not having to sit and listen to people like your friend Senator Dunn.”

  Fredericks laughed and shook his head. “You’re right, I hadn’t thought about that.”

  Another knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Hank Tripp pushed open the door before Julia could complete her permission to enter.

  “Freddy, Julia, forgive the interruption. Robert Culper has arrived from Fortress Oglesby. He says it’s urgent.”

  “What is it, Hank? Has the Caliphate crossed the river?” Fredericks asked.

  “No, Freddy. Not yet. But Rob says he’s been interrogating a Caliphate cleric that Wasson himself captured. The guy’s not only been talking, he’s been singing. Says he knows for sure that an attack is imminent, and he thinks he knows where it will be hitting.”

  *****

  “I call this emergency session of the Senate Assembly of the Red Hawk Republic to order, President Pro Tempore Julia Ruff, Senior Senator of the Province of Old Main presiding. Please, everyone be seated.”

  The Senate clerk made his way back to a desk in front of the podium, winding paper into an ancient typewriter and preparing to take notes. He finished his preparation and nodded back to Julia.

  “Senators of the Republic. I apologize for rushing all of you back into session. I know we have other important business to attend to before everyone leaves for home tomorrow. But there is an urgent matter that deserves your attention. We have just received word from Commander Robert Culper, senior officer for Republic forces at Fortress Oglesby, that an attack from the Northern Caliphate is imminent.”

  Julia paused while the chamber erupted in gasps and shouts. She tapped the gavel twice, and began again as the noise receded.

  “For security reasons, we cannot reveal all the details yet, but I believe it is in the interest of the Republic and all Provinces to call a general mobilization of Tier One and Tier Two militias.”

  Voices raised again, shocked at a call for what amounted to a general war footing for the entire population. A Tier One call-up would be bad enough; those men and women were on call all day, every day. Most lived on Fortress Farms, the family of the Land Lord or his trusted tradesmen and Tenants. Young people mostly, except for their officers, generally in their late teens to late twenties—the range when bodies were sharpest and a sense of adventure still overcame self-preservation. Tier Ones could live out in the Wildlands for weeks on field rations, sharpening their skills by hunting down ditchers, preparing to serve a rotation in the fortresses dotting the Republic’s frontiers. The first levy got the newest Razorback tanks, flew the Raptor and Talon attack planes, and even received the most recent battle rifles now being produced in the factories of the Okaw.

  Tier Twos were fathers and mothers, tradesmen and Tenants; essentially, every able-bodied man and woman who could be spared from the absolute essentials of daily life without crashing their entire system. Each citizen of the Republic was required to take weapons training, drilled with two separate weeklong stints in the off-harvest months. T
hey practiced with Snapping Turtles and some Rhinos, out of date armored trucks and bulldozers still used throughout the Republic for on farm defense. Most Land Lords and Tenants had fought in those armored beasts at some point after the Reset. But the years since the last great war had softened the middle class of the Republic. Respectable men and women of the interior provinces found it more difficult to break away from their daily lives. Thoughts of a general mobilization, away from their farms and trades, for terrible field rations and sleeping in tents, left many needing a more detailed explanation.

  “Look here, Senator Ruff, I find the timing of this matter quite convenient. I mean, just hours ago we vote against increased military spending, and now an attack from a people we’ve never had direct conflict with is happening today? You can’t really expect us to take this seriously, can you?” Dunn asked, staring directly at Martin Fredericks.

  “Dunn, are you suggesting that I would lie about something like this? That an SDC officer would fly all the way here to file a false report just to prove a point?” Fredericks asked.

  “In a word…yes. I think that is exactly what you’re doing,” Dunn replied. “That’s just the sort of thing the Founder would be prone to believe from you, with him being paranoid of making another mistake like the surprise at Tower Hill. He got Sheriff Olsen killed there by turning his back on a real threat. Now he wants us to chase every suspected threat, just to save himself from criticism!”

  Frederick boiled, fists clenching. There was never a shortage of people who disliked him; such was the nature of leadership. But the list of people who had challenged his honesty, or his commitment to duty? That was a very short list. Like, none, ever.

  “You know, Dunn, I’m starting to get sick of your insults. I don’t care one whit about you disagreeing with me, but if you are suggesting I’m acting dishonorably in any way, I’m going to take that very personally,” Frederick said.

  “Is that a threat?” Dunn asked.

  “I don’t threaten the helpless.”

  “Well, Senator Fredericks, you might not find me quite as helpless as you think.”

  “Is that a threat?” Fredericks returned.

  “Depends on how you take it.”

  Julia Ruff banged her gavel sharply several times. “If you boys are done measuring each other, this Senate has some work to do. Is there a motion on the floor?”

  “I move to call for a general mobilization of all Tier One and Tier Two SDC militia, such action to be forwarded to the Founder’s Chair for approval and implementation,” Fredericks shouted, still locked into a stare-down with Dunn.

  “Seconded,” came the reply from a senator of Lafayette, once the eastern half of the New American Empire.

  “I see you still have your New American Legions in lockstep, Fredericks. Or is that ‘goose step?’” Dunn asked.

  The gavel banged again. “This officer of the Senate will recognize any debate first. Is there any discussion of the motion?”

  Dunn turned and faced Julia, hand raised.

  “Yes, Senator Dunn,” she acknowledged.

  “I move we table the motion until we can receive a full report as to why this mobilization is being called.”

  “Seconded,” came from Marcus Nielsen.

  “Floor is open for discussion. Senator Dunn, I’m assuming you have something to say about your motion?” Ruff asked as cordially as possible.

  He nodded and turned to the rest of the Assembly. “My fellow Senators, here before us is a request to mobilize the entire Republic for war. If there is evidence to prove a threat is imminent, I pledge to you now I will not only be the first one to vote in favor of the call-up, but I will reassemble my very own volunteer regiment which proudly fought alongside the Founder in defeating the ditchers and river pirates who infested my home province.”

  The portly man wiped sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief and summoned his most sincere expression. “Surely we are entitled to see these intelligence reports, are we not? We’re supposed to be the legislative body of the Republic. If the President Pro Tempore finds it more palatable, and more secure, perhaps one Senator from each province can be briefed? After all, I’m sure the governors will be getting dispatches with the information soon.”

  Nods and murmurs rippled through the chamber. To everyone it seemed a reasonable thing to consider. After all, they were Senators. Land Lords, mostly, used to being trusted with the most up-to-date intelligence from threats all around the Republic.

  “Move to close debate.”

  “Seconded.”

  Julia had to have them vote, the rules called for it. “All in favor of closing debate?”

  The “Ayes” rang through the hall, matched by only a few “Noes.”

  “Very well. The motion now on the floor is to table the call-up until the Senate has been briefed on the intelligence received from our Northern Front. All those in favor?”

  “Aye!” seemed to carry the room.

  “All opposed?”

  “No,” came a few others.

  Julia looked around at the group and banged the gavel again. “Ayes have it. We will reconvene in one half-hour, at which time someone will present what evidence we have that a Northern Caliphate attack is in the works. You are dismissed until then.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Red Hawk Republic Capitol Building

  Senate Chambers

  Closing Day of the Republic Senate

  City of Shelbyville

  “We’re not staying, Julia,” Fredericks said dejectedly. “I’m sorry, I thought I could do this but I just can’t.”

  “Stay just this evening. Speak to the Senate, plead the case. I believe this threat is real because I can tell you believe it. But most of these folks only know you from legend and a little exposure here in the chamber. Just tell them everything you know, let them talk to Culper, I bet most of them will vote for mobilization,” Julia said.

  Fredericks dismissed the thought. “Alex is going to call at least a Tier One anyway, regardless of what these blowhards decide.”

  “That’s true. But this is an important first step in creating a true republic, not just a benevolent dictatorship with an advisory council.”

  “Totally agree, I’m just telling you I’m not the person for it. If I get back to Lincoln City and Maggie tells me to stand down our Legions until Alex commands otherwise, I will. But she’s not going to do that, and I’m not going to wait a minute longer to get started,” Fredericks said.

  “I can’t change your mind?” Julia asked.

  “Sorry, my friend. The soldier in me is too strong for politics. I always said I’d do my duty no matter what, but maybe age is catching up to me. I just have to get back to Lincoln City.”

  Julia walked over and gave Martin a hug, one returned with warmth. “I’ll do my best to explain the situation,” Julia said. “Who knows, maybe your dramatic exit will be just the catalyst we need to get people to take this seriously.”

  “I hope they do. I know the folks from Lafayette are. Being on the eastern frontier means they’ll catch hell if the Jijis come out of Old Michigan. What really worries me is Peoria. They’ll screw around and leave the entire western flank open,” Fredericks said. “I’m going to ask Culper to send all of our Tracker teams that way. I’ve got a bad feeling about what’s going on out there.”

  Julia tried to mask her concern, but couldn’t completely. “Martin, you know I trust your instincts, but I have to ask. Are you sure this isn’t a Caliphate trick? You know, to get us to take our focus off of the northern border?”

  “I know what you’re thinking. I wondered about that, too. But so far, the Jijis haven’t shown that kind of creativity. Not saying they can’t or won’t, but Culper is not a man easily fooled. He would have made sure this was solid intel before staking his reputation on it. Frankly, he’s staking his life on it, because if we’re wrong…” Fredericks didn’t need to finish the thought. Red Hawk intelligence officers put the Caliphate somew
here between five and six times the population of the Republic. Even with the advanced weapons produced by the Wizards, the Republic might run out of bullets before the Caliphate ran out of martyrs.

  Julia gave him one last smile. “All right. I’ll get a message to you as soon as I know what the vote is. Chances are we won’t see each other again anytime soon.”

  A knock at the door revealed Hank Tripp. “The landship is ready, Commander Fredericks—sorry, I mean Senator Fredericks. Or is it First Husband? Anyway, we’re ready to go when you are.”

  Fredericks gave Tripp a special gesture common among comrades, smiled at Julia and donned his SDC officer’s hat as he made his way out the door.

  Julia stood for a moment, wondering what the next few days would bring. She wasn’t really worried about the Senate vote. At this point it was a mere formality; the final decision of mobilization rested with the Founder’s Chair. Still, she felt the weight of potential failure. Alex wanted the Senate to succeed as much as she did. Once they had proved the model here, their collective dream was to bring in any number of the surviving communities that dotted the Midwest. Crises kept getting in the way of progress. Eventually there would have to come a moment of truth for what they believed in. Just like there had been that day, standing on the quad of Old Main, deciding to combine forces with Phil Hamilton and Clark Olsen.

  Another knock on the outside wall and the friendly face of her aide told her the Senate had been assembled and it was time to convene again. She already made the decision not to reveal everything Culper reported. If this vote had been life-or-death, she would have. But her political instincts told her Fredericks was onto something, that there were people under this roof not entirely devoted to the Republic, unknown enemies interested only in diverting their attention. Dunn was an easy suspect, but probably just a front man. He wasn’t bright enough or brave enough to be working an angle on his own. No, there was something else brewing. Something she’d have to get a handle on before everyone left tomorrow.