For the sake of Amber, Kaitlyn, and the rest of the Clan, he needed to succeed.
* * *
It was an hour before lunch when Ree finished compiling the data from a hundred or more field reports sent in by his unit commanders. What he saw was like having a drunken nobleman for an ancestor—good to have a noble, bad to have a drunkard. Good and bad mixed together like rice and weevils.
On the bad side, he had lost half his forces and most of his People’s Worker Army. He lacked the strength to be a clear and present danger to Taggart unless his nemesis made a terrible mistake at some point. Expansion and re-conquest was out of the question. There was, after all, only so much he could accomplish when the majority of his forces were those filthy, undisciplined, sandy ISNA animals. Without his slaves, he’d even be hard-pressed to complete the plantings he would need to grow enough food for next winter, or even just to handle the day-to-day farming tasks a soldier shouldn’t be burdened with. He lacked the slaves to plow Central Park.
But a worthy commander sees opportunity where others see only hurdles. The smaller People’s Worker Army meant his food stores were enough to last at least until harvest time. And the island’s existing population was still high enough that he could press as many people into service as he needed to restock the Worker Army. Also, while he lacked the troop strength to project force into Taggart’s territory, he still posed a big enough threat that Taggart would also be constrained. He had to defend his territory against Ree’s raids, or against any strikes against targets of opportunity that Ree may launch. Taggart would be unable to strike hard against Ree, too, because the island’s access points were few and small—perfect choke points, easy to defend.
Kim sat in a chair across from him in Ree’s fortress north of the City, gazing out a window that overlooked the water. “You told me at breakfast, sir, that you had two things weighing on your mind. But you were occupied with other business as well, so I did not want to distract you from that with my ignorant questions. Do you have time now to enlighten me?”
Ree favored him with a friendly smile. “I do. Perhaps in your ignorance you will have ideas that have not yet occurred to me.” When Major Kim smiled at that, Ree knew he had played that just right. Ree rarely offered praise, much less suggested a subordinate might have ideas he didn’t come up with. It was important to keep Kim loyal after the recent setbacks. “First, the odd farming that Taggart had been doing in what are now our holdings, in New Jersey. Second, the notion of pulling railroad cars with horses had been successful out there, but how can we achieve the same efficiency here in the City?”
Kim nodded but didn’t reply for a couple minutes. It was a comfortable silence, and Ree had no issue working on paperwork and issuing orders until Kim was done turning the two things around in his mind.
At last, Kim cleared his throat. When Ree looked up from his writing and nodded, Kim said, “The easy question is how to use the trains idea here in the City. The answer is the subways. They travel all about the city, underground. If we guard the stations and blockade any we don’t wish to use, our goods will be safer underground. And we don’t need many horses. Not when we have all the people we need in the Worker Army. I can experiment to find the most efficient number to use for pulling cars of different weights and lengths.”
Ree puckered his lips and raised his eyebrows, expressing surprise. “Indeed. You have a good point. Very well, begin immediately. Once we know how many, then you will need to compile a report on which stations will be most useful and which we will want to blockade. Now then, what of the first problem?”
Kim looked solidly pleased with himself. Ree may not have admired or appreciated the lack of discipline that occasionally showed, but keeping Kim loyal and working hard required the very occasional ‘pat on the back,’ as the Americans liked to say.
“The farming methods Taggart used. Yes… We’ve interrogated people just as you instructed, General. They were uncooperative at first, but we found alternative means of questioning that worked better. By comparing their statements, we have the core of the truth despite the inadequacies of that method of questioning, I believe.”
“Adequately done, little brother. And what truth have you uncovered?”
“It is a way of farming that uses no plows, no fertilizer, no heavy machinery—only compost and dead plant matter. This is made possible by connecting all aspects of the crop’s life and health, and the various things that aid it. It is a philosophy of using, rather than conquering, nature. I have made copious notes and will complete my report soon.”
Ree looked into the fireplace, comforting though it was unlit. It reminded him of the burn piles on his family’s farm when he was a child. Even his grandfather would have found Taggart’s farming ideas eccentric at best. “The only thing I like about it is that it does not require fertilizer. Those chemicals are hard to acquire now, at least here. But farming without a plow? Impossible. The ground must be broken up to remove the weeds, and to allow the water to seep down to the roots.”
“According to the answers we received, those issues are dealt with in new ways. They consistently said that ‘healthy soil,’ whatever that means, absorbs water far more readily when unplowed, and grows stronger roots for healthier plants that provide more nutrients.”
“I don’t believe such nonsense. It breaks rules of farming that have stood for centuries. Perhaps you didn’t question hard enough.” Ree stared at Kim. Was the man being honest? Why would he lie?
“The method for accomplishing it is complicated, with many steps and huge numbers of related tasks that need to be coordinated, but against all reason, it does appear to work. They spoke truth, as we easily confirmed by observation. I was stunned and required much more than the usual confirming evidence before bringing you this information, but I am sure my general will accept the verdict of evidence and farmers alike. In your wisdom, you may accept this evidence far more rapidly than I did. I am stubborn in my ways, older brother, where you bend gracefully before the wind, and therefore always know the direction in which it blows.”
Ree stifled a frown. Kim had an annoying habit of stating the obvious. Of course all that was true—it was the reason Ree was a General and Kim had only the rank of Major. “If Taggart would risk the lives of many thousands to starvation should the techniques fail, he must have some knowledge others did not.”
“It would seem so,” Kim said. “He hasn’t shown himself to be foolish or reckless.”
“So it is settled. We must learn more and emulate these methods. Other than defense and keeping order, our highest priority must become farming Central Park—half of it normally, half this new way, and we will soon see how well it works. Promise double rations to those who know about this technique and help us implement it. Provided it works as well as they claim, of course.”
“Yes, my leader. Anything else?”
“Just one other thing. We are on the defensive now. Yet we still control a large territory—and we will probably be here for a long time. Administering a large territory is a problem with no technology to help us. I want to encourage our soldiers to settle down, marry the natives, start families—and have their children learn our ways, not their parent’s. Unfortunately, most of the soldiers are ISNA and shouldn’t even raise donkeys, much less children.”
“You have a plan, sir?” Kim leaned forward, and Ree saw his eyes glimmer. Ree knew rumors had been flying for days about some mysterious new system.
Well, they were about to learn. Given the technology, the barbarism and violence everywhere, the disparate cultures and the low population densities that were still falling… Only one historical model worked for long, so far as Ree knew.
“Yes,” Ree said, and allowed a faint smile to show. “I call it the Program for People’s Defense and Social Advancement, but I’ll forego the rhetoric and explain it in plain and simple terms. First, inform all our forces that their spouses back home are probably dead, and in any case, they’ll not likely return h
ome in this lifetime. Then, divide the western half of our territory among our four colonels. Tell them to do the same with their majors, and for them to do the same with their captains. Divide our total troop strength to correspond with the land allotments.”
Kim rose to his feet and bowed deep respect. “You are the Great Leader now, my general. A return to our feudal past. Genius…”
Ree permitted himself to smile. “Yes, a return to our past, in many ways. Tell them also that any landholder who marries an American and has offspring will pass their assigned territory to their eldest son, along with their rank.”
Kim nodded slowly, obviously considering the ramifications. Then he said, “So, if they are all widows and widowers, they are free to remarry and you’ve given them a reason to do so. I suspect that, with the offer of hereditary holdings, they will be eager to start.”
“Indeed. Lastly, for their children to be eligible to inherit landholdings, they must attend schooling and training in my territory, under instructors of my choosing, until they reach adulthood.”
Ree knew this would ensure their loyalty by hostaging their children—and by knocking the ridiculous culture of the ISNA troops out of the offspring. The ISNA troops’ barbarism would die with them. And the children, having been in his instructors’ care for most of their lives, would grow into loyal adults, properly educated in their culture and ways.
Ree continued, “Now, as far as the Central Park project goes, each of my colonels will be responsible for sending workers, however they choose to select them, but in return will get an equal share of the harvest to keep or pass on to their underlings.”
“Further tethering their loyalty up the chain of command. Wise, sir. But what of conquest? With you on the island, any new land we liberate will be taken by others. What if one such member of our nobility grows large enough to challenge you?”
Ree bared his teeth, upper lip curled back, and his eyes narrowed. “Easy. All land taken, beyond their original landholding boundaries, belongs to me. This lets me someday assign a new colonel, and in the short term, it curbs their desire to conquer by removing any reward for doing so. I want us on the defensive for now. We must be the strong turtle if we are to defeat Taggart the Fox.”
The lunch bells rang, interrupting their conversation. Ree’s grumbling stomach reminded him that he skipped breakfast to work. “Come, Kim. Let us go eat and discuss the details together. And let us also discuss how to divide the landholdings… Colonel.”
Kim’s eyes widened, and he stood again to bow, this time so low that Ree thought he might fall over if he went any lower. Yes, a truly loyal servant among his colonels would ensure Ree’s primacy, no matter where his other colonels’ loyalties might lay in the future.
“You’re welcome, little brother. And Kim? Find me the most beautiful American girls so that they can come live in luxury as my wives. I will take four to wed out of the ones you gather, so choose well.”
Ree knew Kim would “cast the net wide” looking for possible wives, but Ree only wanted women of beauty and grace who came to him willingly. For food, security, and power, there would surely be some who came willingly. “I think maybe fifty to choose from should be enough. You have one month to gather them.”
And the ones who didn’t come willingly to him would be given to his subordinate officers, beautiful gifts from their Great Leader. Yes… ‘Great Leader Ree’ had a nice ring to it.
* * *
Work around Clanholme had slowed to a crawl that afternoon, in the wake of their difficult victory. Most of the necessary chores were done for the day, other than evening animal feeding and the milking of cows and goats after dinner, so it made this the perfect time for Cassy to gather the Clan together. The refugees and other visitors were invited as well, and many attended, standing like spectators in the back. Cassy wanted them to take accounts of this speech back to their home towns, together with word of the victory, which would spread quickly in any case.
This, Cassy mused, was the beginning of a legend—the Confederation’s invincibility, luck, determination and sheer tenacity. The Clan’s support for its allies, its courage under fire, its willingness to help other settlements despite losses, its aggressive program to save what refugees it can… The list just went on and on. And it would all look great for the Confederation and Clanholme.
Part of her wondered whether Grandma Mandy might be right when she said God had blessed the Clan because of the way it treated strangers and allies, and the way the homestead operated—as close to being “a good custodian of the earth” as it was possible to be on this side of Heaven, she had said. Well, sometimes she felt God in her life, and other times she was just as certain there was no such thing. She kept that to herself, of course, out of respect for her mom.
But enough musing. It was time to address her people, both Clan and Confederation allies. She walked up her patio’s three outside steps, and once on the patio she turned around to face the crowd. There were hundreds there, which was a bit intimidating.
“Good morning, Confederation,” she said, voice carrying over the din of hundreds of conversations. A few people cheered, and many clapped. She continued, “I know we’re all exhausted. The Confederation and our new friends just fought the largest battle we’ve ever seen. Somehow, against all probability, we won. It was a close-fought battle, but in the end, the Confederation was the one still standing. You did that, people. But we didn’t do it alone. Let us not forget the steep sacrifice paid by our newest Clan members, who fought alongside Manheim’s sons and daughters without hesitation despite the odds. They have certainly earned a place at the Clan’s table. Of the three hundred who volunteered to help at Manheim, only two hundred survived to eat breakfast with us as free Americans. Manheim paid a price just as high.
“And what of Liz Town? They fought against an enemy much larger than themselves and in so doing, they kept a vast number of Empire raiders from joining the battles for Clanholme or Manheim. And then, when Clanholme was in dire peril, far-away New America lent its might to our cause. Arriving trail-worn and exhausted, they nonetheless jumped in to help other Americans stay free. We stood together, and in doing so, we prevailed.”
Cassy looked down at the ground, lowering her head, and said nothing for a moment, letting the tension mount as they waited for her to finish. When she heard the first hints of murmured conversations and restlessness from the crowd, she raised her voice even louder and said, “Today, our Confederation has proven both its strength and its worth. Though we lost many, their sacrifice has allowed the rest of us—standing strong, free and proud, together as one—to defeat the growing evil of the Empire. The enemies of peace and rebuilding have failed to enslave us. Our Confederation sent them back to their masters with their tails between their legs, and they left their best and strongest lying dead on our land to water our crops with their blood!”
With that, Cassy waved and then turned around as more cheers rose. She opened her front door and walked inside without looking back. Behind her, she heard ranking members of the various allies coming up to the patio, each to make their own brief speeches. Inside, Cassy saw Grandma Mandy, Michael, Jaz, and Choony and allowed herself to slump a little.
Michael raised his hand in greeting. His left arm was in a bandage and he wore a splint on his right ankle, though Sturm had assured them it was only a sprain. He said, “Poor Frank… He’ll have to stay out there as the Clan’s representative. I imagine they’ll all chant until he, too, has to give a speech. Why do we need speeches when we all want nothing more than sleep and a snack?”
Of course, Cassy thought she knew the answer to that. “Speeches have the power to glue a community together—or tear it apart,” she said. “We learned that when politicians used that power to destroy us during the last few years before the EMPs, all to stay on top, keep power, and feed their own greed.”
Grandma Mandy clucked at Michael and added, “Speeches distribute ideas faster than word of mouth. Those ideas sort of
‘program’ a crowd to feel and believe a certain way. They can certainly immunize people against destructive ideas, which are often more appealing to angry people than messages of hope or love. Satan coats his poison in sugar.”
Cassy took a deep breath, shoulders rising, and then let it out in one big gust as her shoulders fell again. “Of course you’re right, Mom. I guess that’s why I felt the need to give a little speech instead of entering a blissful coma in my comfy bed for the next decade.” She smiled at her mom and was pleased to see her smile back. Good, she had taken it in the spirit Cassy intended instead of getting all prickly about it.
When no one said anything further, Cassy said, “I’ve been thinking of some sort of memorial for our fallen. Jaz and Choony’s volunteers lost a full third of their numbers and all of us suffered terrible losses. I want to put something up at the battle site itself. Maybe an earthbag building. We could build it atop a single, mass burial site for all of our dead. Inside we can have etched clay tablets with quotes from the families of the fallen. What do you think?”
Michael nodded, even looking pretty darn enthusiastic. He said, “Maybe outside we could have a plaque to commemorate the battle but also remind people that those who are buried at the site came from all the Confederation allies, demonstrating the unity they had forged in life, and so on.”
“Michael, that’s brilliant. I was just thinking urns for the ones with family who insist on cremation. Most will probably want their fallen loved ones buried, to become an integral, unified part of the memorial. We can certainly encourage that.”
“I’ll make the rounds to the allied leadership and see if they’ll let us bury their fallen with ours on that battlefield, then. At least the ones who died in the Battle of Clanholme during the Empire War.”
Dark New World (Book 5): EMP Resurrection Page 40
