needed to give up everything,” I told him.
It took several minutes for him to stop laughing long enough for us to begin planning.
Chapter 12
Dans cite entrer exercit desniee,
Duc entrera par persuasion,
Aux foibles portes clam armee amenee,
Mettront feu, mort, de sang effusion.
The army denied entry to the city,
The Duke will enter through persuasion:
The army led secretly to the weak gates,
They will put it to fire and sword, effusion of blood.
We still had eight tankers in town. The USR amp;D team confiscated half of our sixteen trucks, so the others had been busy for the last two days moving our gasoline and diesel supply back into some of the gas stations in nearby towns. Seventy-five percent of the food stockpile was now hidden in attics, buried in backyards, or otherwise stashed away. Many of our general supplies were cached as well. When our visitors arrived, no one would have any reason to suspect that we had any more than a modest surplus of anything.
So Thursday morning saw most of the people of Rejas lining Main Street as if in anticipation of a parade. I stood with several of the ad hoc committee heads in front of City Hall, all of us decked out in our Sunday best.
Of course, hard work and hard times had reshaped most of us so our Sunday best hung off of us in places where they had once been tight and fit snugly in places where they had previously been loose. The so-called honor guard for the visiting representatives of the reviving U.S. looked more like a group of cleaned-up hobos than official representatives.
The tension poured through the crowd as word radioed in from the roadblock stations. The convoy was headed into town. It was strange, the disparity of emotions I felt at the sight of all of those military vehicles and uniforms. After all the time I’d spent wondering what was going on with the rest of the country, there was a feeling of relief in knowing that at least a fragment of our government had survived and was struggling back to life. Many of the townspeople must have felt it as well, for as those Humvees rolled down Main Street, they cheered and clapped. American flags appeared in the hands of many.
I smiled with the others, but my smile was strained, as were those of many of the committee members. We were the few people in whom the mayor had entrusted the knowledge of how much the government’s struggling reemergence was likely to cost us, if they got their way. And from the looks of things, they had enough troops and hardware to make sure they got their way.
As the Humvees pulled up to the steps of City Hall, Mayor Kelland stepped down to make nice to the muckety-mucks unloading from the first vehicle. I had never been good with uniforms. Belt rankings, I understood, but chevrons and pips were foreign to me. So I strained to hear the introductions as “Captain Brady” shook hands with Mayor Kelland. Brady stood a lanky four inches over six feet and, judging from the way his uniform hung on him, he had been through some pretty lean times recently. Looking around, I noted that none of the other uniforms fit any better. I heard a distinct Boston accent when he introduced himself as the personal aide for “the general.”
It seemed a tank had broken down on the way into town, and the general had elected to oversee the repairs personally, but would follow at his earliest opportunity.
“Meanwhile,” the captain said, “I assume the ladies and gentlemen standing so patiently behind you are persons of some importance, or they would be out with the rest of the crowd.” The man was smooth, a born diplomat.
“’Course, Captain, I’d like to introduce you to my emergency committee heads, and chief aides.” Jim led the way over to us. I noticed how he exaggerated his country accent, playing the bumpkin. “If it weren’t for these people, Rejas would prolly be a town full o’ dead n’ dyin’.”
It was Captain Brady’s turn to make nice; he shook hands with each of us. As he introduced us, Kelland had a little comment about the individual contributions we had made. “This here’s Leeland Dawcett. We didn’t exactly see eye to eye when he first got here, but he’s shaped up real good. He’s a survivalist and has helped us hang on by the skin of our teeth.”
Captain Brady’s eyes seemed to bore into mine for a moment, staring intently, as if trying to memorize my features. “Mr. Dawcett. Your name sounds familiar. Ah, yes! One of the truckers last week mentioned you in relation to… town security, was it?”
“No sir,” I replied. His question seemed ingenuous enough, but his gaze made me uneasy. Up close, he reminded me less of a diplomat and more of a bureaucrat, a definite step down on Darwin’s ladder. “Well, not exactly. I’m an aide to Ken Simms, who is in charge of town security.”
His brow furrowed as if he were trying to recall the conversation. Finally, he shrugged apologetically. “That must be it.” He looked at me for another second, as if he wanted to say something more, but evidently changed his mind. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Mr. Dawcett.” And the mayor moved him on down the line, leaving me to wonder what was going on.
After the final introductions, Jim turned to the captain. “If you like, Cap’n, folks have put together a little spread in your honor. I’m sorry there ain’t enough for all o’ your boys at the table, but we have got a bunch o’ volunteers that’d be proud to feed one or two of the good ol’ U.S.A.’s fightin’ men.”
“That sounds very generous, Mayor. Thank you very much. Just let me return to my vehicle for a moment, and I’ll tell my men.”
“Sure thing, Cap’n. How many men do I need to make arrangements for?”
“Two thousand, nine hundred, seventy-six, when the general gets here with the rest of the troops.”
Jim stood silent for a second, astonished into rigidity. Then he nearly fell down the steps as he rushed to catch Captain Brady. “Twenty-nine hundred? You’re bringin’ twenty-nine hundred troops into town?”
Brady turned back to the mayor. “Closer to three thousand, actually. Is that a problem? I’ve got more than fifteen hundred with me now. The rest will be here within a few hours.”
Our intrepid mayor stammered as the rest of us tried to decide whether to be shocked at the number of armed troops coming into town, or amused at the stunned look on Kelland’s face as he rapidly scanned the large number of Humvees, trucks, and armored personnel carriers he had allowed into Rejas.
Finally, though, Jim managed to regain his composure. “Well, honestly, Cap’n, I hadn’t expected that many mouths. I’m a little embarrassed to admit it, but I don’t think we’ve got enough to feed that many.”
Captain Brady laughed and clapped Jim on the back. “Not to worry, Mayor. My troops all carry their own rations. All we ask is a roof and some civil company.”
The mayor managed to look relieved and nodded. “I think we can manage that much at least.”
“Well, then, on behalf of my men and the general, I thank you, Mayor.”
Brady went back to his vehicle and got on the radio. A few seconds later, men began pouring out of the vehicles.
The men were divided into pairs, two soldiers to each of four hundred fifty families, with the remaining troops stuck watching the convoy and supplies. Our dinner proceeded as planned. Brady and his aide joined the “Emergency Committee” heads for a dinner in the City Hall cafeteria-barbecued chicken, egg salad, squash and
