Empire

centuries of misery and chaos. Hadn’t Reuben come home from Torrent’s class full of talk about what the Pax Romana meant to the world, and how miserable the chaos was afterward? And that was what Asimov’s Foundation trilogy was about, too. The Decline and Fall, set in the future.

Now here was Torrent, getting to play in the sandbox of history. Getting to shape events.

Well, that was a good thing, wasn’t it? A good thing he wasn’t on the other side. If Aldo Verus was really the other side’s mastermind, he was making Al Qaeda look like a bunch of Keystone Kops—both for cleverness and ruthlessness. America needed somebody like Torrent to balance the equation.

But it was still guesswork. Maybe it always came down to guesswork.

Border crossing

Armies have spent a lot of time and effort training their soldiers not to think of the enemy as human beings. It’s so much easier to kill them if you think of them as dangerous animals. The trouble is, war isn’t about killing. It’s about getting the enemy to stop resisting your will. Like training a dog not to bite. Punishing him leaves you with a beaten dog. Killing him is a permanent solution, but you’ve got no dog. If you can understand why he’s biting and remove the conditions that make him bite, sometimes that can solve the problem as well. The dog isn’t dead. He isn’t even your enemy.

Gathered in a classroom at Gettysburg College, Rube’s jeesh knew only two things: They were going to Lake Chinnereth, and they had to do it without anyone knowing they had entered the state of Washington on a military mission.

If they were caught, it would be taken as provocation. The governor had posted the National Guard at all the entrance points, with airplanes overflying the rest of the border, and boats patrolling the Columbia River.

As Drew said, “It plain hurts me to be looking at a map of part of the U.S.A. in order to figure out how we can get U.S. Army ordnance across a state boundary line undetected. This is just wrong. No matter who’s President, we should be able to tell them to get their little National Guard boys out of the way, we’re the American Army on American soil!”

The others could only agree.

But the job still had to be done, right away. “We can’t enter from Canada,” he said, “and I think we should avoid Oregon. We get spotted there, it’s almost as bad as Washington itself—their legislature is debating a resolution right now.”

“So,” said Mingo, “it’s Idaho or the Pacific Ocean.”

“Idaho,” said Arty. “I don’t know nothin’ ’bout boats.”

“You want boats, send Marines,” said Benny.

Most of them were looking at ordinary highway maps of the Idaho-Washington border. Load was flipping through a stack of U.S. Geological Survey maps. Drew had Google Maps and Google Earth up on his laptop.

“We’ve got to come in on a legitimate road,” said Cole, “because once we’re inside Washington, we need to carry our ordnance in regular trucks, not the kind of all-terrain military vehicles that could get in cross- country.”

“We could come in with ATVs and then transfer to trucks.”

“Any way to hide everything under, like, potatoes?” said Babe. “Coming in from Idaho the way we are?”

“Not bad,” said Cole. “Let’s find out how potatoes are shipped from Idaho to Washington. But look at the map. The most direct route is Highway 12. Gets us from Idaho right to Lewis County. National Forest Road 20 leads right to Lake Genesseret. Road 21 leads to the eastern lake, Chinnereth.”

“Can’t go up those roads,” said Drew. “Probably the ones they use.”

“No,” said Cole. “We go in on National Forest Road 48 and then go a mile up 4820. Only a couple of us need to be with the truck. Everybody else goes in like birdwatchers or photographers, in rental cars, on different days, park in different places. We rendezvous here and then cross over the ridge.”

“We’re climbing that?” said Drew.

“You must have the vertical exaggeration set on ‘two,’ ” said Cole. “The ridge isn’t really that high.”

“High enough,” said Drew.

“So the guys with the truck,” said Benny. “If they screw up and don’t get there, then what?”

“Then the rest of you have binoculars and cameras,” said Cole.

“Take what pictures you can, email them in, and at least we know more than we did.”

“Two trucks,” said Drew. “Twice the chance of getting in.”

“Twice the chance of getting caught,” said Mingo.

“Either we can get in or we can’t,” said Cole. “We don’t want one of the trucks to go in by the second-best route.”

“And I bet you’re with the truck,” said Arty.

“We’ve been working together for a little while now,” said Cole. “I don’t care who goes in with the truck. There’s nobody here I wouldn’t trust for the job.”

“But you want to go,” said Arty.

“Don’t you?” said Cole.

“No way,” said Arty. “Trucks are great big targets. Trucks run over mines. Trucks get blown up.”

“They haven’t mined the roads,” said Babe, disgusted.

“Not at the border,” said Arty. “But the rebels? Up those National Forest roads they’re using?”

“Start killing park rangers in jeeps,” said Cole, “and somebody’d notice them. There are no mines.”

“What ordnance are we taking, anyway?” said Cat.

“Separate discussion,” said Cole and Drew at the same time. They laughed. “We’re on border crossing right now,” said Drew.

“Idaho and Washington got a lot of border,” said Mingo.

“Route 12 comes across the border at Clarkston, Washington,” said Arty. “Lewiston, Idaho, and Clarkston, Washington. Lewis and Clark. I feel like I’m in grade school again. We did a pageant about Lewis and Clark.”

“What did you play, Sacajawea?” asked Cat.

“And we’re headed for Lewis County,” said Arty. “It’s like a tour of American history.”

“There’s a road comes in just north of the river at Clarkston, so we aren’t going right through town,” said Mingo. “In case there’s shooting.”

“There won’t be shooting,” said Cole. “We’re crossing into Washington, not Iran. If they stop us, they stop us, we don’t shoot.”

“And if they try to arrest us?” said Mingo.

“Then we’re arrested,” said Cole. “Let them take the heat for arresting United States soldiers. Better than us killing U.S. citizens. In or out of the National Guard.”

“Those really the rules of engagement?” said Mingo.

“Absolutely,” said Cole. “The only time we use our weapons is at Lake Chinnereth, and then only if we know they’re definitely the rebels and we can’t avoid shooting.”

“Hell, the truck’s all yours then,” said Mingo. “Those are shitty rules of engagement. I’m not going to rot in some jail.”

“It’ll be an American jail,” said Benny. “Cable TV.”

“Okay,” said Cole, “who’s willing to go with the truck, under those rules of engagement?”

Everybody looked stonily forward. “We don’t want to kill anybody,” said Drew, “but we don’t want them to be able to shoot, and us not.”

“I don’t want to do it alone,” said Cole.

“It’s just a U-Haul,” said Mingo.

“No need two of us getting arrested,” said Arty.