by G. R. Carter
A knock at the door saved them all from a conversation no longer holding any joy for them.
“Founder Hamilton, you have a guest, sir,” the bass voice boomed from the other side of the door.
Alex questioned his advisors with a simple glance. Each answered with a simple shrug; no one had any visitors planned during what promised to be a long day of planning. Before another word, the heavy oak doors of the study swung open to reveal the leaders of ARK. Tony Diamante and Nicole Kelley strode in side by side. John Fitzgerald Diamante, better known to everyone as Uncle Jack, was a bit behind. As his nature dictated, Uncle Jack was chatting up the Red Hawk soldier who made the announcement of their arrival. Clearly the young man feared being yelled at for allowing visitors into a private meeting without permission. Uncle Jack sensed the concern and was telling some story that received a nervous smile in return.
Smiles and hugs greeted the visitors. In this new world since the Reset, communication remained difficult at best. Cables now connected the main Fortress Farms with interior towns and the capital, but the single line to ARK was good only for burst transmission, not to call and chat as people had in the old days. Personal interaction was about the only way for friends to speak to one another, though even that was exceptionally rare with the scarcity of working vehicles and the danger of bandits still present even in areas under the control of civilized peoples.
“How in the world did you sneak in here?” Alex demanded good-naturedly. “I think we need a review of our defenses, Commander Fredericks!”
“All your weapons are still pointed north. Besides, we flew in on one of our new Skyships,” Tony smiled. “You want to see it?”
Sam, the man who lived to fly, was already out the door before Tony could complete the question. The rest of the group waited as an attendant helped Alex into a wheelchair provided for use between therapy sessions. He only agreed to be pushed so that group would not be slowed down by his cane-enabled shuffle.
The chair swerved around a bucket left with plaster still caked inside. Construction on the personal Fortress Farm of Alex and Rebekah Hamilton was temporarily halted as the Republic’s skilled tradesman left for the damaged Fortress Farms to aid in repair. The living quarters had been completed as well as the main meeting area. But materials still sat in piles in the main entryway, and the veranda off of the second floor where the Hamiltons resided remained open to the elements. The doors swung open to the late winter chill outside and each instinctively shuddered as they adjusted to the absence of the wood-fired heat.
“Celeste is going to be so jealous,” Sam muttered to himself as he laid eyes on the largest man-made vehicle he had ever seen. ARKShip One hovered over the open meadows leading up to what once had been a state run resort on the banks of an artificial lake. Once fallen into disrepair, the large buildings and trails created to stimulate tourism in a rural town now held wide fields already opened by the plow this past fall. Several years would be invested in the creation of a working farm – they named it Aronia Point – but eventually this would be the home of this branch of the Hamilton family for generations. Sam and his wife Celeste had been gifted the ancestral Fortress Farm of the Hamilton family, Schoolhouse Hill, by the Founder on their wedding day.
As large as the Aronia Point was, the matte white craft floating above dwarfed the other structures below. Sunlight reflected off a bright silver chevron adorning the massive tail fins arising from the rear of the craft. Absently Alex remembered seeing the symbol on each piece of clothing ARK personnel were wearing. A rectangle shaped box hung from the bottom of the cigar shape with windows visible along the side. What appeared to be giant fans mounted behind cone-shaped cylinders sprouted from the middle and back of the craft.
“Celeste might be jealous we got it built, but the initial designs for it came out of the Wizard Academy,” Nicole answered, referring to the headquarters of the Red Hawk Republic’s engineering group. “The Boeing plant outside of St. Louis built the Airlander 80 before the Reset. Survivors needed food, not skyships, so surprisingly nothing at the hangars got damaged. We’ve got those already armed and up on patrol for training. We wanted something more easily replicated, though, and we just won’t have the ability to build something as high tech as the Airlander for a while. Once they’re gone, that’s it. Celeste is the one who found the plans in the archives for the U.S.S. Akron and sent it over to us. That’s how we built this one. Without our computer, recreating it would have been tough.”
“Recreating it? Oh, that’s right. I remember now. The American Navy built something like these a hundred years ago,” Sam said, nodding. “The pilot’s brain was accessing the files of something that caught his imagination. “Wait, don’t tell me these carry aircraft, too?”
Tony and Nicole both smiled in reply.
“Flying aircraft carriers,” Sam muttered to no one in particular. “We could keep Raptors over the front lines for hours…” The thought of not having to keep returning to a landing strip to refuel and rearm stirred up happy dreams.
“Don’t get too far ahead of us, Sam. Recovering those planes is going to take a lot of time and training. Right now we’re in the initial planning phases. It’s going to take some crazy pilots to learn how to do this,” Tony cautioned.
Sam was grinning ear to ear when Alex broke in. “Not a chance, brother. This is where the Founder of the Republic gets to make an executive decision. There’s no way the leader of our Air Wing is going to become a test pilot again. You’re way too valuable to everyone here. Personally and professionally.”
The crushed look on his brother’s face made Alex briefly reconsider. No, I can’t lose him like that. And test pilots have a funny way of pushing the boundaries until it’s too late.
Alex continued. “Besides, if I didn’t say no, Celeste certainly would. She’d say there were better pilots who weren’t so hard on the equipment.”
Even Sam chuckled a little at his brother’s lame attempt at humor, though the pain still showed on his face. Tony lightened the mood for him with a simple question. “Do you want to go up for a ride? Check out the interior?”
A firm nod from Sam and Tony waved one of his Peacekeeper escorts over. “Uncle Jack can show you all around. He’s been on the tour several times. In fact, he’s already trying to talk me into letting him take one of these to the Bahamas. Like the place even still exists!”
“Oh, it still exists. No way would the Brits ever let that place fall apart, even if the rest of the world came unglued,” Uncle Jack replied with mock offense.
“You go and have a good time. Martin, you’re welcome to go too, but I wouldn’t mind you staying here to talk with us,” Alex said. He suddenly realized he was assuming that Tony and Nicole were here to meet with him. “Tony, I’m sorry, did you have an agenda for the visit?”
“Just happy to be here and see you all,” Tony smiled. “I think we have a lot to catch up on.”
Chapter Nine– Red Hawk Rising
Fortress Farm Aronia Point
New Home of Alex and Rebekah Hamilton
Two Weeks after New America/GangStar Invasion
The Founder of the Red Hawk Republic and the Premier of the ARK relaxed next to the fireplace that stayed lit twenty-four hours a day this time of year. Here, they could just be Alex and Tony, two men unable to be anything but strong and infinitely capable in front of the people they led. Their partners in leadership – who also happened to be their significant others in life – were huddled in the next room discussing problems the allied nations faced. While not responsible for the same areas of government, each were well versed in every aspect of leadership.
The Founder’s Chair and the Premier’s Office were ultimately the final word for their respective peoples. With that responsibility came a weight only recognized by someone in the exact same position. Alex led a rural republic encompassing many more square miles and more mouths to feed, as well as a mortal enemy sworn to kill him. Tony had a quickly growing urban community
still trying to find a balance between what amounted to advanced technology in this world with the daily needs of food and sanitation. Plus, ARK had a giant river running right through its heart, susceptible to both acts of nature and any humans who might be floating past.
Together, ARK and the Republic formed a tight-knit partnership. Bolstered by both family ties and a common goal of survival forged in the early days of the Reset, no one questioned the loyalty the two groups shared for each other. Completely different in structure and background, but united in helping one another survive another year. That loyalty manifested in the timely arrival of ARK Peacekeepers in the battle of Philippi. Without their help…Alex refused to finish the thought.
He asked somberly: “How did we miss that big of a threat, Tony?” Both men stared straight ahead, watching the tiny sparks waft up on the thermal draft above the burning logs providing reflection and relaxation.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Alex. You were pretty focused on New America. Springfield is only about sixty miles from our northern outposts, too. And I sure never heard anything about an organized force of Rateaters there,” Tony counseled.
“I suppose. I never thought Walsh would recruit those types. Mr. “law and order” must be scraping the bottom of the barrel,” Alex allowed.
“What are you going to do about him?”
Alex thought before replying. “I guess we’ll have to start the whole process over again. We’re trying to rebuild the Fortress Farms damaged in the attacks. Plus Martin is recruiting as many Grays as possible to swear allegiance to us.” He turned to look at Tony with concern clearly on his face. “Even taking half his territory and people, he’s still as strong as we are.”
“Alex, he’s got to be freaking out a little. Wondering what his next move is. That rope-a-dope he tried to pull was actually pretty brilliant.” Alex nodded, inwardly acknowledging the strength of Walsh’s plan, perhaps only foiled in the end by ARK’s quick response to a call for help. Tony brought Alex’s attention back. “But your plan was even better. I understand you would have had Walsh if not for a bad break.”
Alex shrugged, not wanting to rehash the painful thoughts associated with the circumstances.
“Walsh knows that, too. So now you have him back on his heels. He’s second-guessing himself for the first time since the Reset,” Tony said.
“How do you know that?”
“What are you and I doing right now?”
“Second-guessing ourselves.”
Tony laughed heartily. “Exactly! Except we’re used to doing that. He hasn’t had to. Most of his success has been against starving towns defended by a few state policemen barricaded behind a brick building.”
“He’s got problems up north, too,” Alex added.
“The Caliphate? The Blackhawks are getting pressure from them, too,” Tony said. All Blackhawk communities were on or within sight of the great Mississippi River. “Jihadist raiders have floated downstream right into their northern towns. Savages don’t leave anything alive against the women they carry off.”
Alex rubbed a mild headache out of his temples. “Walsh was fighting a big group out of Aurora.”
“That’s ironic.”
“What’s ironic?” Alex asked.
“Aurora. Northern Lights? Solar storms started all of our trouble years ago. Remember? Now an area named after them is going to cause us more headaches,” Tony answered.
Alex chuckled. “Hadn’t thought of it that way. The Aurorans converted to this Jihadist religion the Caliphate pushes. Now there’s a united front of religious crazies from your river all the way to northern Indiana.”
Tony whistled slightly. “That’s a lot of ground to defend. Even with airpower.”
“Plus we have to worry about them using the river to come down against you all. Can the Blackhawks hold them off if they work together?” Alex asked. The Blackhawk Confederation was more of a trade alliance with the added responsibility of helping each other in the constant struggle against Ditchmen raids. The Jihadists posed a much tougher enemy according to New American Legionnaires now joining the forces of the Red Hawks.
“Those people don’t stand a chance without our help. We’re working on a riverboat navy right now to help them hold that area. Once again Celeste and her Wizards did wonders helping us with the designs. We settled on river tugboats as the base to build off of. They’re tough and there’s plenty of them. Your biodiesel works in the diesel engines with a little modification.”
Alex smiled. “Great. I’m glad whenever I hear we can help you in some way. We should have coal oil perfected before long. You can have the formulations to run through the computer and then start production in your refineries. Time to stop burning our food as fuel.”
“That’s great. More mouths to feed means more demands on the harvest,” Tony concurred. ARK still relied on the Republic for a large portion of its fresh food supplies. “What are you waiting for, EPA permits?” Tony joked.
Alex recognized the reference but didn’t fully understand the joke. Tony laughed again, this time a little disgusted with himself. “Sorry, I keep forgetting you’re that much younger than me. You don’t seem younger, no offense. Forget the joke, call it a pre-Reset classical reference.”
The only issue preventing a nearly complete mental link between the two leaders was an age difference just large enough to put the Reset in Alex’s formative years as opposed to Tony’s peak professional years. That sort of division caused problems in many societies that survived the collapse. For Tony and Alex it actually provided a bit of useful insight.
Alex called up the strategic maps in his mind for a moment. “So that makes the Caliphate our biggest threat, right? They must be ten times the size of Walsh.”
“Population and territory, yes. But training and craftiness? That probably equalizes the threat,” Tony argued.
“I don’t think I can rally the Land Lords for an invasion of the rest of New America. They’re already going to be stressed from taking on Little Egypt and the Gray lands we have to rebuild. We’ve tripled in size almost overnight,” Alex said. “That seemed like such a good idea at the time.” He surprised himself with the out-loud statement, which was the sort of thing he usually would have kept to himself.
Tony gave a look of understanding. As leaders of relatively small groups of survivors, each man looked at maps and wondered about things like buffer zones and resources. Not that they necessarily wanted to conquer new land, but if it came available in some way…
Tony continued: “We’re working closely with the Grange now. They’re based in Topeka, Kansas. Without our help, I’d say they won’t last more than another few years. But if they keep working with us I think they’ll be fine. They’ll add another source of food and fuel for us.”
Others would have felt threatened with their main ally and trading partner seeking alternatives to the agricultural goods the Republic provided. In this case, though, Alex felt relief. The allies needed every bit of their current production for the new dependents to the north and south.
Tony continued. “Tons of biofuel refineries, too. The helium for our skyships comes from a little town called Hugoton, Kansas. Didn’t think I’d need Spanish translators to have diplomatic relations with a place in Kansas, but that’s the new world for you.”
“So you think you have the resources to hold the river and support the Blackhawks? Martin and Sam told me they’re getting overrun with refugees since the Great Lakes Republic fell. People who don’t want to convert to the Jihadists,” Alex said.
“We’ll take care of it. When their confederation finally collapses, what should we do with them?” Tony asked, completely unaware of how dividing up people and territory might sound to outside ears.
“Ties in nicely with your Grange territory, doesn’t it? We’ll take as far north as Old Peoria and you take the river as far north as you want to go. If you don’t want them, I’ll take the old tractor plants up by the Quad Cities. They should b
e in decent shape. That’s still the Blackhawks' largest city, right?”
Tony nodded in agreement. “As far as I know it still stands. We’ve got plenty of unused factories right now so they’re all yours. I’ll push our river squadrons up north that far. Where will you dig in against the Aurorans?”
“There’s an area called the Cayuga Ridge south of Chicagoland about fifty or sixty miles,” Alex answered. “We’re going to try to hold them with New America recruits north of there. Fortress Farms are planned all across the area a little ways south. Gives us a buffer zone. I hate to give up the Illinois River, though. It’s a natural barrier that runs east and west for several miles....but I won’t waste trained men on soil that’s not sacred to us. We’ll just blow all the bridges and pray for rain.”
“So Walsh…” Tony said.
“Right. Him. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t want to fight the Americans. Of course I hold Walsh responsible for Dad’s death and now for Clark Olsen’s, too. Plus every other dead Red Hawk. But that doesn’t mean I lay awake at night trying to figure out how to kill him,” Alex said somberly.
“People in our position are always second-guessed, Alex. Probably worse for women leaders because everyone assumes when they commit troops they’re trying to overcompensate for perceived weakness,” Tony said.
He paused for a moment, and then an idea formed. “You might have just answered your own question, Alex.”
“How’s that?”
Tony placed one finger up to his face, an old habit he found unnecessary to break. Nicole always said she knew to leave him alone when it happened, that a grand solution was forthcoming. He had just such a remedy for their New America problem now.
“You said you don’t lay awake at night figuring a way to kill him. But you do lose sleep thinking of a way to beat him, right?”
