by Rod Porter
“I’ve got to go back,” was how he started the conversation. Jackson waited for a moment for Stephanie to respond, but he saw in her face that she wanted him to continue. He was still amazed at how well they could read one another.
“God knows what’s happened to the Unconformed in my and the other ranking officers’ absence. I left a resistance and a power-hungry politician who was bent on turning it into his own personal army.”
“The priest. Demoskeena.”
“That’s right. I can’t think of anyone left behind that could outmaneuver him with the Council or the Quorum.”
“What about Troy Williams?” she offered.
He loved her optimism. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. He exhaled a heavy sigh. “My responsibility lies to my family first. To you and Troy above all else. I have done that duty. We are alive, healthy, and safe. Now I have to fulfill my other responsibilities. I already turned my back on reality once, and it nearly cost me everything. I can’t afford to do it again. Maybe we can come back one day and live here for good. But not with the plague still here.”
He looked into her face for a reaction. There was not a night that had gone by that he did not worry about giving her this very speech. He was sure that she would be supportive, but there was always a small part of him that worried that bringing this to her attention would be the end of the fairy tale that they had created.
“Jade is really real?” was all she said.
“Very real. That is, if it’s still standing.”
“I’ve always wanted to see it,” she said with a smile.
They both smiled and hugged one another. They sat in each other’s arms, watching their son play with his dog.
“It’s funny,” Jackson said. “Sitting here now, watching him play reminds me why I started fighting in the first place.”
It was one of the hardest things Jackson and Stephanie ever had to do when they looked back at their cottage for what could be the last time. The log structure had been the safest and most tranquil home either of them had ever known. Out here, the trials and tribulations of a world at war were nullified.
“We made a great home,” Jackson remarked as they gazed upon it with affection.
“We’ll make another one,” Stephanie comforted him. She hugged him reassuringly, knowing that he felt guilty that he was the one making them leave this peaceful place behind. But she did not blame him. In fact, she agreed with his decision to leave, and she had told him that she was very proud of him for wanting to finish what he started and make a better future for their son.
Before they joined little Troy and Zoe in the packed car-filled to the brim with the surplus of gas Billy had provided them on the night of Jackson’s escape from Hivestown-Jackson made a silent vow to himself that he would return here one day with his family and live out their remaining years in peace.
REFLECTIONS
No one could predict what the alien response would be to Operation Hammer. The aliens had been completely unprepared for the human race to unite under one banner, and even more unprepared to lose control of their drones.
The success of the operation had allowed the resistance to construct more outposts and locations above the surface. A lull in alien attacks following the success of Operation Hammer had allowed the American resistance to complete their expansion of Fort Anderson, the new unofficial headquarters of the North American branch of the Global Resistance, second only to resistance headquarters in Jade. Fort Anderson was now the biggest known human surface compound in the world. Fortifications were triple what they were at any other location, as it was frequently called home by General Troy Williams and his top advisers. Regular long-term guests included the Prime Minister and other members of Jade’s civilian government.
“I’d have to agree with General Gonzalez,” Ayira said, acknowledging the Mexican General sitting beside her at the meeting that was underway in the Fort Anderson conference room. “We are seeing the same type of behavior from the aliens in the African territories. They are falling back and retreating. They have all but left our shores. Assaults on our outposts and ground forces are nonexistent. Since nullifying their control over their drones, we have not heard or seen any signs of the aliens.”
General Hatton of the British branch agreed. “We also have seen decreased alien activity across the board. The assaults on our compounds and ground forces have stopped as well. We are seeing massive withdrawals of enemy forces from strongholds all over Britain.”
“Theories as to why the aliens are pulling back?” Troy asked openly.
“Perhaps they’re simply unwilling to fight without their drones,” Jing Xie the Chinese general, offered.
“The alien strongholds along the Chinese region are also being abandoned. Therefore, we can only speculate that Operation Hammer did more damage than anticipated. Why else would they be pulling back?”
Colonel Cartwright laid a bunch of aerial photographs on the conference table. “These are eagle surveillance plane photographs taken over the past few weeks around our respective borders.”
The resistance leaders, Troy included, evaluated the photos.
Colonel Cartwright continued. “As you can see, the photographs taken here in America suggest the opposite of what you are all seeing in your territories. Alien ranks may have disappeared in your respective countries, but not here. In fact, our reconnaissance suggests that the aliens’ numbers and activity have increased dramatically in our country. The aliens are pulling out of your countries and coming here. To America.”
Those words produced a bit of a silence. Troy picked up where Cartwright trailed off. “Obviously, the roaches feel that they need to regroup here, build their strength up, and concentrate their efforts.” Troy looked around the room. “Since the aliens have abandoned your territories, I would ask that you concentrate your forces here in this country. There is no doubt the invaders have chosen America to be the focus of their future campaign. So I ask you all, to bring your forces here, and together we will defeat the aliens once and for all. My fellow generals, this will be our last stand.”
The generals looked at one another for a moment, but in the end the vote was unanimous. Every branch of the resistance would cross the oceans and converge their forces in Jade. The final battlefield of the war with the aliens would be the former United States of America.
Was it all worth it? This was what Troy wondered nearly every time he was alone and able to let his mind race. Was all of the success with the Global Resistance worth the sacrifice of his entire personal life? Troy had been immensely proud to name Fort Anderson after his former friend and the founder of the Unconformed. The base was a tremendous achievement, something that people said was impossible to create. Troy had changed all that. He had changed the way human beings thought. He had instilled a new sense of possibility. Of this he was rightfully very proud. He had had a vision of one planet united to reclaim its freedom, and he was succeeding in making that vision a reality. Yet, for all the pride he felt, every time he was alone, he grew very somber and sad.
It was, after all, the saddest and most painful event in his life that had convinced him to join the Unconformed. Kara and his infant son were what he thought of always. The boy had not even lived long enough to have been given a name. Troy often had nightmares about his ordeals in the prison camps. While the death of his family was the most devastating, there were plenty of others that haunted his thoughts. Often, he would think on what he had lost, and what he had denied himself in service to his species.
Since their night in Africa, his interactions with Myriad had been awkward, with neither of them willing to pursue their feelings. Time had passed, and they had hardly seen one another, they were so wrapped up in their duties. He, the commander of the American branch of the Global Resistance, and she, the highest ranking officer and commander of its air force.
The love of a woman seemed like a distant fantasy to Troy. With his status in some circles as almost a living messiah,
there was no shortage of choices when it came to attractive women. When he traveled to the affiliated countries, the women there were all eager to meet him, yet he denied himself the pleasure of their company, fearing that the temptations would be too great, and still mourning for Kara. Distraction was something he could not afford. The resistance was so close, closer than it had ever been to the war’s end. That could not be jeopardized for his own personal needs.
No one had any idea when they were in his presence that they were spending time with one of the saddest, loneliest men alive. Troy felt alone, more than anything. Maybe he could go about filling that empty void inside him if he could, in fact, end this war. The evidence that the aliens seemed to have chosen America as a site to regroup and strengthen their efforts had not reassured him, despite his refusals to admit so publicly. He knew that, more often than not, a commanding officer lost their campaign the minute they underestimated their opponent. It just did not seem like the plague to admit defeat in any way. Why would they give up their strongholds in the affiliated countries just to strengthen themselves in America? The obvious answer, which everyone wanted to believe, was that they were weakened and desperate to regain some momentum following the resistance’s success with Operation Hammer. But Troy was not convinced. The plague were a volatile enemy.
How he hoped this cursed war would be over soon.
SECOND COMING
While the underground location of Jade was still humanity’s most guarded secret, nearby surface structures like Fort Anderson were often stumbled upon by human visitors. More often than not, they were solicitors just looking to make some fast money. Other times, they were young men and women eager to sign up and fight for the cause. James Ramos was the trooper on duty at the front gate of Fort Anderson during the day shift, and it was his job to deal with the people at the gates. At his disposal were two guards, and dozens more should there be an emergency. James did not particularly like this detail, but he was a brand new trooper in the resistance and he would have to pay his dues long before he would get an assignment of his choosing.
So far today, he had turned away three salesmen. Each of them claimed to have weapons and supplies that the resistance would find valuable. Upon inspecting their pathetic stock, James had to tell them to keep moving. Another of today’s vagrants had been a woman so bold as to ask if James could kindly direct her to Jade. The two small children with her looked well over the ages she said they were, and in much better health than she was letting on. Apparently, they had fallen on some hard times and they needed to get to Jade so they could put the past behind them. James directed them to Outpost Ramsey, a resistance outpost two days to the west. He would provide two troopers as an escort if she desired.
No, he had told her, she and her kids could not stay at Fort Anderson. It was too important and high profile a base to let in people fresh out of the wastes, particularly as the Prime Minister and General Troy Williams himself often stayed there. But another man came calling in the later hours of the day, just as evening was coming on. The man drove up to the front gate in a gas-powered vehicle. With him were a woman and a child. At first, James had no idea who it was, but when the man and his companions were close enough that he could see their faces, he froze. Unable to speak, he nudged the other trooper that was on gate duty with him.
“What?” the trooper complained, opening his eyes. “I’m trying to get some sleep over here, do you mind?”
James did not respond, electing instead to keep a transfixed gaze on the approaching man. Then the other trooper noticed the man as well. Neither of them knew what to do.
Troy was in a meeting with the Jade district seven delegate of the Quorum when an aide burst into the room.
“I told you that we were not to be interrupted,” Troy said, looking apologetically at the Quorum delegate. The delegate had come to Troy with his constituents’ concerns about rumors of extra benefits being provided to members of other districts that were signing up with the resistance.
“You said unless it’s urgent,” the aide said confidently. “Excuse me, delegate.”
The Quorum representative was irritated, but acknowledged the apology. The aide leaned in and whispered something into Troy’s ear.
“What? When?”
“Minutes ago, sir.”
“Are they sure?” Troy’s uneasiness was unsettling to the Quorum politician. Was there some kind of recent alien attack?
“You will have to excuse me, Delegate Watkins,” Troy apologized. “There’s a situation at the front gate that requires my attention.”
“I trust everything is all right, General? Nothing I should be concerned about?”
“No, nothing of concern.”
Troy rode shotgun in a resistance jeep that picked him up from the command post. The trooper behind the wheel sped down the dirt roads of the outpost towards the front gate. Troy tuned the jeep radio to the public broadcast system that aired general news updates dealing with Jade and aspects of the resistance. He was dismayed to hear that the media was already at the gates. The radio broadcasts were indicating that Jackson Anderson, founder of the Unconformed, was at the front gates of Fort Anderson with his wife and child.
“Damn it,” Troy cursed to the excitable trooper driving the jeep. “There goes any hope of trying to keep a lid on this.”
Normally the trooper would have been too apprehensive and intimidated to dare speak to Troy, but the extenuating circumstances gave him the courage. “Do you think it’s really him, sir? After all this time? Wasn’t he killed in action, sir?”
“Take a breath, trooper. One thing at a time. First let’s get to the gate.”
The jeep pulled up to a swarm of activity at the front gate. Control had radioed ahead that General Williams was on his way, and dozens of guards were at the gate, trying to keep the situation as controlled as possible. The frenzy was made up mostly of soldiers and reporters from the Jade media bodies. Their attention was indeed on a man, woman, young child, and dog. The reporters were hurling questions at the man and his companions. The sergeant on duty came up to Troy and saluted.
“Sir, we’ve got this guy claiming to be Jackson Anderson. He’s accompanied by who he says is his wife and his child. He also has a dog with him. We’ve checked them for weapons and explosives, sir.”
“Good work, sergeant. Let them through, and no one else.”
“Yes, sir.” The sergeant saluted and ran off to do as he was told.
It took a few moments for the guards to separate Jackson and his family from the throng of reporters, who were less than pleased when the guards allowed Jackson and his family to enter but did not admit them. Troy could not believe his eyes. The man who had been his salvation, in a sense, was standing in front of him, alive and well.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” was all Troy offered.
“Apparently,” Jackson retorted, with a stone face.
Each of them kept a hard, piercing gaze on the other, the silence intense. Then they both burst into laughter and embraced one another. They laughed and hugged for a moment before stepping back to get a better look at each other.
“What the hell is this?” Jackson said, referring to the distinguished General’s uniform Troy was wearing.
“Something that you taught me to earn,” Troy said, smiling. “And who are your friends?”
Jackson very proudly introduced Stephanie. “This is my wife.”
She shook Troy’s hand. “Stephanie Anderson. I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said with a smile.
“And this is my son,” said Jackson, presenting the shy toddler. All the activity had made him a bit apprehensive.
“Cute,” said Troy. “What’s his name?”
“Troy,” Jackson said. He saw the brief contortion in Troy’s face when he realized that the child was his namesake. It meant a lot. For a moment, Troy tried to imagine what his own son would look like, had he survived the prison camp.
“Hello, Troy,” the resistance leader sai
d, shaking the boy’s little hand. The reporters on the outside of the gate were going crazy, lobbing questions in the direction of the heartfelt reunion, but the outpost guards held them back easily.
Jackson gestured to the impressive above-ground surroundings of Fort Anderson. “You want to tell me just how you managed to pull this off? From what I’ve heard, you’ve been very busy.”
“Well, sir,” Troy said with a smile. “Allow me to bring you up to speed.”
“Shit!” Demoskeena cursed as he threw a glass against the wall and shattered it. The reports were true; Jackson Anderson was alive and currently a “distinguished guest” at Fort Anderson. The damn place bore his name, for Christ’s sake! Demoskeena had been furious when the reports of the former General’s return had been verified.
“I have invested a great deal of time and resources building a strong foundation for a relationship with General Williams,” he barked at delegate Watkins of the Quorum, who was in his main chambers. “Now Anderson returns. He jeopardizes that relationship.”
Delegate Watkins had informed Demoskeena immediately of the abrupt ending to his meeting with General Williams. Delegate Watkins and Demoskeena had a clear relationship. It existed so that both of them could keep the resistance in check. All the two politicians cared about was preserving as much power in the hands of Jade’s civilian government as possible.
“A good deal of time has passed,” Delegate Watkins offered. “Perhaps the former General is a changed man. From what I remember, he never had any real capacity for politics anyway.”
“Williams does,” said Demoskeena through clenched teeth. “And we were just beginning to get him in line.”
