Project Reunion (34 page)

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Authors: Ginger Booth

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Military, #Post-Apocalyptic, #Dystopian

BOOK: Project Reunion
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Emmett couldn’t care less what the Niedermeyers’ house looked like. He just rang the doorbell. This was answered promptly by a smiling teenage version of Pam, just about Alex’s age, assured in her officer’s-kid hostessing skills. An older boy nearing adulthood helped wave us in and take our coats. Not being bald like his father, the boy also seemed to favor Pam. They introduced themselves as Bets and John Jr., or JJ.
Poor Alex stood frozen like a deer caught in headlights. Despite Pam and John waving us on to the living room, Emmett and I tarried in the entry hall to encourage Alex past his teen gauntlet. “D-do you like goats?” Alex finally managed.
Wow, Pam’s kids were well-trained. Bets barely blinked an eye. “Goats are cool,” she agreed blandly. JJ nodded judiciously.
I took pity on Alex and mixed in. “The goats are for Major Cameron,” I offered. “Alex, Bets and JJ are Captain Niedermeyer’s kids. Major Cameron doesn’t have children.”
Alex looked momentarily crestfallen. Then Bets realized that we meant there were actual goats, right here for the petting. She squealed in delight, and the teenagers were off and running.
“Watch out for the –” Emmett began to call after them, but gave it up with a shrug. They weren’t listening. We continued on to greet the Niedermeyers and the Cameron-Perards.
“Machiavelli’s guide to the holidays,” Emmett said, sharing handshake and hug with Cam. They both laughed, and John Niedermeyer as well.
“What was that?” Pam asked sharply. I was giving Emmett a sour look myself, though he’d casually moved on to trade hugs with Dwayne.
“Inside joke,” John excused.
“About that,” Emmett said. “Could I talk to you two in private a moment? Excuse us.” John led Emmett and Cam into his den, and closed the door.
“They’re working at a Christmas party, aren’t they?” I said in dismay. “I’d apologize for Emmett, but he’d just do it again. Never off duty.”
“I don’t think it’s that,” Pam said cryptically.
We helped ourselves to slices of quiche and other treats from the lavishly decorated table, and settled down to socialize. I tried to squelch myself from asking Dwayne how the meshnet roll-out was coming along on Long Island. But then he brought it up. Avoiding talk of Resco business, politics, and Project Reunion, simply wasn’t going to work with this group.
Our menfolk emerged eventually, cheerfully bonded. “Sorry about that, darlin’,” Emmett told me. He wrapped himself around me on the couch. “I had to clear something with John and Cam. You know that SAMS thing that came up at the summit dinner? I worked on vetting the Calm Act, and the Resco manual and stuff?”
“John and Cam were SAMS, too,” I ventured. “You did seem to know each other awfully well.”
Emmett nodded, and stole food from my plate. “We were roommates at Leavenworth. That’s a secret. Even the other SAMS don’t connect us as a team. John and I didn’t work together outside the apartment. And Cam wasn’t officially SAMS. So, had to ask before outing them. But it wasn’t fair, you being the only one in the room who didn’t know.”
I said, “I think I did know. I just wasn’t allowed to say so.”
“Uh-huh,” Emmett said, with a grin.
“Well, I’m glad!” Pam said. “Pussy-footing around was tiresome. So Emmett, Cam. Now that the Penn war is over, are you backing the Reconstitutional Convention?”
Since Thanksgiving, without even a puppet U.S. President anymore, agitation was mounting across New England to open a constitutional convention of the Northeast – the recon-con. The Great Pumpkin blogger was especially strident.
“I’m not convinced the Penn war is over,” Cam said apologetically. “More like a stalemate. Ohio and Virginia put peer pressure on Penn. But Penn still has all of the arms and supplies that were supposed to come to General Cullen and Link. And Cullen’s still a pretty soft target.”
“You make it sound like a contest between generals instead of states,” I said.
“They’re the military governors under martial law,” John said. “Penn’s Tolliver has just the one state. But he’s ringed by super-states – Cullen’s New York–New Jersey, allied with Link’s New England, Schwabacher’s Ohio–West Virginia, O’Hara’s Virginia–Maryland–Delaware. Sondi O’Hara is an admiral, by the way, not a general.”
“Alright, a black woman!” Dwayne cried in enthusiasm. “Nobody ever said that. I thought the military governors were all old white dudes.”
“You have a problem with white men?” inquired Cam dryly.
“Yes, sweetie,” stated Dwayne. “I do.”
“I have a problem with military dictators,” Pam said sourly. “It’s time for that to stop.”
“Is Link willing to allow a constitutional convention?” Emmett asked her. “I wouldn’t, in his shoes. I know Cullen’s told him we won’t go along with it yet.”
“We?” Dwayne asked. “You’re on team New England, too, Emmett.”
“No,” Emmett said, looking at Cam. “Cam and I work for General Cullen. We’re New York Rescos now.” He pressed my hand gently as he said it.
“I thought Long Island transferred to Connecticut,” Cam said with a frown.
“I strongly suggest that you forget you ever said that, Cam,” Emmett said softly. “We don’t want an argument over Long Island coming between Cullen and Link. Do we.”
This visibly didn’t go down well with Cam. But he sighed. “Sir,” he acknowledged.
“Sir?” parroted Dwayne. “Emmett’s your CO now?”
“Sounds that way,” agreed Cam.
Emmett waggled a so-so hand. “We’re both Rescos in the Apple zone. I do outrank Cam.”
Pam looked even more unhappy. “Emmett? You don’t think Cullen will join New England for a new constitution?”
“Cullen’s already told Link no,” Emmett replied. “New York–New Jersey isn’t ready to emerge from martial law. Parts are. Western New York, on the Great Lakes – they’re in pretty good shape. But right now the focus is on Project Reunion. We’ve barely started on the Apple. South Jersey and eastern Long Island are isolated. Penn’s a threat. Cullen doesn’t think Link should drop martial law, either. Not until Boston-Prov is resolved.”
“You agree with him,” John accused.
“For New York, yeah,” Emmett said. “I was surprised that Mora didn’t censor what Cam said on his interview with Dee, about the social levels in the Resco manual,” he mused.
“Carlos and I talked about it,” said Cam. “I felt it would help get us volunteers. To say that there is a plan. There is a model. We’re not just flailing around in desperation. We will proceed from level 1 to level 2 in an orderly fashion. Mora agreed.”
“I’m not criticizing,” Emmett said. “Just surprised how well it worked. You framed the public conversation. In New Haven, DJ got a lot more cooperation than we expected on land use reform. People want to step up to level 8. I never thought that would work.”
I scowled. Clearly I was in the minority, a ‘winner’ who didn’t like land use reform.
“You lost me, Emmett,” said John. “How did we go from the recon-con, to Resco community levels?”
Emmett frowned thoughtfully. “I wonder if that would work to reframe the recon-con question. Our goal right now is not to forge a new democracy. Our goal is to uplift devastated communities back to level 5.”
“Level 5!” said Cam. “In the Apple zone? Ambitious much, Emmett?”
“Aim high,” Emmett replied, with a crooked grin. “You’re more likely to reach it than I am, Cam.”
Cam leaned forward intently. “Reach it,” he echoed. “For what, Emmett?”
“I’ll be Resco for the Apple Core,” Emmett told him quietly.
“The
whole
Apple Core?” John asked, horrified. “New York City?”
Emmett tilted his head. “We’ll see. I have Project Reunion for now. But I guess that’s what I’m saying, Pam. I don’t disagree with you, or the Great Pumpkin. We’ll need a new constitution. It’s just, I have a job to do. So does Cam. What helps me more? I think martial law does. I think people in New York need food. Water. Sanitation. A chance to survive. Then rebuild. Basic needs first. Democracy? We don’t have the tools to hold elections. It’s too soon.”
Cam nodded thoughtfully. “I watched elections in the Middle East – I’m sure Emmett did, too. It isn’t as easy as it sounds.”
I was gratified that Emmett told me before them, about continuing on in New York after Project Reunion. Somewhat less gratified that business took over the Christmas party. After this little bombshell, the three SAMS roommates went deep into brainstorming mode. Dwayne and I left them to it, and shifted to sit at the dining table to socialize. Pam reluctantly joined us.
But our group just got onto a different political tangle, as I shared my little farming distraction with Dwayne and Pam.
“Sounds like they’re trying the model we used for Windham,” Dwayne told me. He’d been Coco for Windham township in Windham County, before leaving with his husband for Long Island. “Too bad you missed the local debates, Dee. I think you’d kinda like it.
“The idea is stewardship, instead of private property,” Dwayne explained. “Even the houses. You get right of stewardship over the house, and a bit of land around it. But you have to manage it well, or lose it. Care for the land well, and you become steward of more. Take on too much, next year you get less.” He laughed. “I would have had 8 acres next year. Oh, well.”
“I don’t know why they gave me so much,” I confided. “I only grew enough for us.”
“Emmett used to help you?” Pam prodded.
“Oh…” I said. “Zack and Alex managed the livestock, then Emmett and Alex. Yeah. I should probably give some land back. But I still feel obligated to at least try, you know? Come up with a plan. Though I don’t know how much livestock is appropriate, for Alex. He’s good. But he’s just a kid. Anyway. I’ll figure it out.”
“You can do it,” Dwayne assured me. “Remember, you’re just the manager. You hire labor when you need it. It’s that manager part that you can’t delegate to a kid.”
“When did you learn Emmett wasn’t coming back, Dee?” Pam asked gently.
“Just the day before yesterday,” I said. “It’s been a rough couple days. We just kinda laid low yesterday.”
“Welcome to the life of an Army wife,” Dwayne quipped.
“Not a wife yet,” Pam observed. “There’s still time to escape.” She cocked an eyebrow at me.
“Partners,” I said. “Lovers, too, but… We’re partners. Project Reunion, the farm, Amenac, raising Alex. After we talked the other day, Pam, I realized. I do like my independence. You know what I want? After, like, two years of being partners, when we can’t imagine breaking up anymore? Then I’d want to get engaged. But only engaged, you know? Then set a date to get married, like two years after that.”
“That!” Emmett cried. I hadn’t noticed that the ‘husbands’ had stopped talking behind us. Emmett suddenly took a knee by my chair, and clasped my hand, with his happiest slow grin. “Dee Baker, will you do that with me? What you just said?”
“What?” I asked, distracted. “Hang out together another two years, then reconsider?”
“We’ve been partners a year in February,” he quibbled. “Say yes.”
I laughed, and replied, “Sure. Why not.” Thus cementing my single-with-benefits state for at least another three years, it seemed. It felt strangely secure and liberating at the same time.
Instead of a kiss, Emmett froze. “What was that?” Suddenly he bolted to the front door. When he opened it, Boris the billy goat barged right in. Emmett managed to tackle the goat before it could do any damage indoors, and dragged it back outside again.
“Cam! Dwayne!” Emmett called. “Come meet your Christmas gifts!”
The Niedermeyers and I hung out on the porch to enjoy the show, while Emmett gave Cam and Dwayne a crash course in goat herding. The teens must have left the trailer unfastened while they wandered off. The two pregnant nanny goats were easy enough to apprehend. Dwayne seemed to bond with them.
Boris was another story entirely – 200 pounds of masculine menace, who could leap onto the top of my car in a single bound, then turn around to leer at the men. Fortunately, Cam enjoyed the male dominance games. I could have done without the hoof dents on my car.
Leaving Boris with Alex had been a bit much to ask. Bunnies were more his speed. I explained to the Niedermeyers that I’d requested Emmett find a new home for the monster. These days, plenty of people in Totoket had billy goats to breed with our does. Alex and I didn’t need to deal with Boris.
“Command presence, Cam,” Emmett encouraged, laughing at him. “Show him who’s boss!” And yet again, Cam was sliding face-first into the slush while Boris hopped nimbly away.
Boris returned to gloat, flapping his long velvety ears in a tease. Cam finally caught the beast around the ribcage, and manhandled him into the trailer. Cam and Emmett shook hands in triumph.
This adventure led to further present opening, once Cam changed into dry clothes. My favorite was a small package for Emmett, that General Cullen in New York had sent along. That was sweet all in itself, that Pam or John had arranged for a present from Cullen to be waiting here. Emmett read a couple pages of hand-written letter, then opened the package to dangle a cross on a chain. Unlike his father’s, this cross was the current military design, simple arms of stainless steel, battered and bent. Emmett took it in his fingers and read the engraving.

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