Human Trial

Posted By timothy on June 29, 2011

The final part of my sci-fi trilogy…Feedback is welcome.

P R O L O G U E

With the return to normalcy came signs of the seasons. Spring brought mild rain and blossoms to Lake Consuela, which glittered like polished turquoise. The placid waters were as smooth as glass and the rebirth of the region featured emerald hillsides, fields thick with tall grass and flowers, and on a light breeze rode the scent of lilac and cherry blossoms. The meadows were alive with an assortment of wildlife, from acrobatic butterflies and frolicking rabbits to squirrels and deer, Silver-bodied fish made the lake their circus, breaking the surface as the red sun shimmered on the water. Tulles, thick and fragrant, surrounded the lake like guards outside a palace.

Daron Turner sat atop his bench style tackle box, hidden among the tulles, where he hoped neither prying eyes nor time could find him. In his scarred hands was his spinner style reel, and at his side was a coffee can half-filled with squirming nightcrawlers. To his left was a thermos of coffee, his .32 caliber handgun and a fluorescent green stringer which he hoped would soon be heavy with the fat catfish and black bass that performed their ballet in the deep.

The warmth of the sun had yet to settle in Daron’s bones, which crackled as he got comfortable. As of late he’d been sluggish and on this morning found it more difficult than usual to keep his eyes open and fixed on the red and white bobber floating atop the rippled water. While he desired to yawn, none would come, and even several sips of the coffee failed to jumpstart him; in fact, his eyelids began to feel heavier and his view of the world became like frames of film jammed in a projector; the scene before him unfolded in short, choppy bursts. He didn’t hear Imani, a woman he loved like a daughter, as she made her way along the recently established path.

“I told Regina I would find you on this side of the lake,” she said panting. “Trying to take advantage of the shadows?”

The water off the lake blew against her sand-colored skin, and she squinted her large, chocolate eyes. Her hair, now flecked with streaks of gray, nearly reached her waist. She stepped closer, which caused the dry twigs to break under her footfalls. Imani set her pole and tackle box next to his.

 “I know, keep it down, I might scare t he fish,” she said, with a titter. “That still doesn’t give you the reason to shine me on.”

* * * *

Regina pulled her robe over her T-shirt and sweats and eased down onto the top step of the porch. She took a sip from her cup of steaming, jet-black coffee and no sooner had the first swallow gone down when, a scream in the distance drew her attention.  Regina’s eyes narrowed as she looked in the direction Imani had taken. Hardly ten minutes had passed since the younger woman took off to join Daron.

When Regina saw Imani tearing up the path without her gear, she dropped her cup onto the porch where it shattered. She screamed for Adam, who came to the door shirtless and red-eyed.

“Ma, what’s the matter?” He asked.

He watched as Regina went down the steps and pushed herself toward Imani as fast as her fifty-year-old legs would carry her. Adam’s heart thundered in his chest as he descended the steps two at a time and ran after his mother.

As the women drew closer, Regina could see the mist and the sorrow in Imani’s eyes. There was no explanation required; hearing one would only destroy the granules of hope that Regina held fast to. Adam sped past his mother without stopping to ask Imani what was wrong.

Imani fell into Regina’s arms. “I-I…must’ve been talking to him two or three minutes before I realized…Oh, my God…he was smiling with his eyes closed…”

Imani turned and allowed Regina to put her weight on her as they made their way back toward the lake. They looked on as a barefoot Adam reached Daron first. He stood several feet away and looked at the lifeless body. His father’s fishing cap was in place, and Daron looked as if he was napping peacefully. His fingers were wrapped around the pole as if he’d been anticipating a strike.

Adam felt as if he’d been struck unexpectedly in the solar plexus, and after the air rushed from him it took several seconds before he could breathe again. No sooner had his second wind come when it was replaced with relief, like cool waters washing over him. For ever since Daron had returned from Ascención, burned and with his movement limited by pain and taut, webbed skin, Adam realized his father’s days for he world weren’t long. He recalled the sorrow that weighed on him as Daron perform the simplest tasks with difficulty, albeit with all the pride one could expect from a feisty fifty-four year-old who had “been something” in his day and had crammed two lifetimes into one.

Over time the scarring on Daron’s legs became infected and for the past month there were days when it was hard for him to get out of bed, let alone walk. Perez, the man who had brought Daron from Albuquerque back to Lake Consuela, applied several homeopathic remedies that eased the pain, but the effect was negligible. Still, he never complained and all who lived in the cabin with him at Lake Consuela believed that every day they had him around was by the grace of God, that it was God’s blessing to them that Daron ever made it home to them, to live out his final days on the land he loved.

It was more than a case of the death of a friend, husband and father. I\Unbeknownst to the Lake Consuela denizens, it was the loss of the de facto Father of the new Country that was America.

* * * *

Since that return, Perez had become a member of their extended family, as did the Barfields (Jeb and Darlene), a middle-aged couple with a nineteen-year-old son, Beau. The Barfields had come in from the cold after a two-year north to south excursion, from central Canada to the American west. They were welcomed, even though for Adam it brought back a point he’d read in Daron’s history of the post-war world: “No sooner would we welcome newcomers, when death would make a house call and even things out.”

* * * *

Two months after arriving in Granite County, Perez wanted to see what the town of Stonecutter looked like, and Adam agreed to be his tour guide. They went via horseback along a road in dire need of repair that was equal parts dirt, gravel and asphalt. The trip was a quiet one, as Perez took more interest in the rolling foothills and orchards.

In Stonecutter they rode down Main Street and saw the remnants of the old hotel where the MMD (Mulholland’s Mad Dogs) holed up during the thermal onslaught of 2005. It also marked the place where Adam was born and he told Perez as much.

“It’s also the place where I, as a newborn, was nearly murdered by a man known as Rocks Thornberry and his female conspirator Doris Baker.”

“I had the privilege of reading your father’s words when he was in Albuquerque,” Perez said. His tone was reverent as he went on. “It was not just the heat and an unseen enemy they worried about, but their fear wearing them down.”

They continued on and after ten minutes came to a stop in front of the old Mulholland’s Sporting Goods store. They dismounted and Adam retrieved a black pouch from his saddle bag. For reasons Adam didn’t understand, the closer he came to the front doors of the building, the more of an emotional event it became for him, and it was all he could do to fight back tears, as he looked at the bullet holes in the stucco walls.

“This is where my dad, mom, Melvin and Gordon first got together.”

“The battle was a ferocious one,” Perez said, as he gazed at the hundreds of bullet holes in the stucco of the building. He looked over at a grim-faced Adam and asked, “Are you okay””

“I’m fine.”

“Want to go inside?”

Adam nodded and Perez led the way into the musty confines of MMD first “fort.” Adam tried to imagine the logistics and the events as they unfolded on the pages of Daron’s writings. The glass cases where ammunition was once stored were caked with dust, and the camouflage uniforms that hung from the metal racks reeked of mildew.

“We need to come and clean this place up; turn it into a museum,” Perez said, “Even if we are the only ones who ever see it.”

Adam didn’t hear a word. His eyes were drawn to a yellowed piece of paper inside a plastic slip cover tacked to a wall at the back of the store. Adam walked over and took down the slip cover and after staring at it for several seconds, then placed it carefully into his shoulder pouch.

That evening he shared the contents of the paper with Perez, Imani, Sara and the Barfields. The piece of paper read:

Human Trial

A poem by Daron Turner,

September 2005

The city besieged by burdensome heat

Was hard to sit let alone move your feet

We tired from the power of the sun’s glare

All were unnerved by the still, arid air

Death made his housecalls furious and fleet

The sun dried the rivers, it scorched the wheat

Felled the young and melted arctic ice sheets

A young girl, her eyes heavy with despair

Wondered aloud “Is this it?”

A man whose eyes were laden with crow’s feet

Drew a gun, shot himself dead in the street

Doc yelled, “We depleted the ozone layer!”

The Rev cried, “We need to engage in prayer!”

A pregnant teen standing by in bare feet

Wondered aloud “Is this it?”

* * * *

After Daron’s passing, Regina no longer lived, but merely walked through days filled with routine. When she wasn’t cooking, cleaning and tending to the garden, she would sit and knit for hours on end. She busied herself in repetition so that she could keep her mind off the fact that for the first time in three decades she didn’t have Daron’s shoulder to lean on.

One afternoon as she sat on the porch working on a quilt, Adam came over. There was something in his eyes that told her, This is the day. Much like Daron’s imminent demise, Regina knew this moment, too, was one of inevitability. Still, the frank nature of her son’s statement caught his mother off-guard.

“Mom, I’m twenty-three years old, and…”

“You’re twenty-two,” Regina corrected, never looking up from her knitting. “You won’t be twenty-three for another couple of months.”

Adam knelt at her feet, caressed her face and forced Regina to look at him. “Mom I’m serious.”

She set her work down on a small, round table next to her easy chair. Her face was careworn and since the death of Daron, her eyes had lost their shine. Her head was now completely gray and in Adam’s mind, it finally registered that while his mother was only in her fifties, she had been through a lot and was nevertheless, an old woman.

“I’m going to cut to the chase.” He felt his mother’s hand tighten around his. “I don’t know anything about being with a woman. I mean, in an intimate way.”

Regina’s reaction was somewhere between stifling a smile and pity. After several seconds, she deadpanned, “There’s nothing I can do about that, son.” After what Adam would always remember as the last time he heard his mother laugh, she told him, “Imani is older than you, but I’m sure that she too, has been feeling some urges. Go talk to her.”

Several seconds passed before Regina tacked on, “I thought that with you being the big man on campus back in Big Springs, you would have taken care of that.”

“There were girls who did things,” he began, despite feeling a burst of shame. “But I had no time for romance. I had a lot on my mind.”

“Sure had me fooled, the way they use to stare at you, squirming and wearing those silly grins.”

“If I’d been with them, it would have amounted to nothing.” Adam shrugged. “All that seems like a hundred years ago.”

“Like I said, go to Imani.” As Adam rose, she held fast to his hand. “It won’t be long son, ‘til you will find someone who really loves you.”

“When I do, I hope it’s someone like you.”

He let his mother get back to her knitting, and that afternoon, Adam asked Imani to go for a walk with him. They didn’t return home until after sunset and both fell asleep immediately afterward.

* * * *

Three months to the day after Daron’s death, Regina died in her sleep. Perez would succumb a week later.

BOOK ONE:  The Rise of the New Nation

O N E

New York City, 2028

“This meeting of America United will now come to order.”

58-year-old Thaddeus Lord ran his fingers through what was left of his gray afro and looked out at the blur of faces in the packed arena. Thirteen thousand people—black, white, brown, twenty-something, middle-aged, wrinkled, modelesque, gray-haired, and those with eyes filled with youthful enthusiasm, were all drawn into the refurbished venue still known as Madison Square Garden.

 “As you know, we are gathered here to launch the next stage in the history of our great country…”

His words were interrupted by nearly two minutes of raucous cheering and try as he might, the throng would not settle down until they were ready. On the one hand, the buzz he heard was one of excitement, and he imagined it was the same sort of collective optimism the original Founding Fathers felt at the Constitutional Convention at Harper’s Hall in Philadelphia 241 years earlier.

At the same time, he knew that there was an underlying fear, that perhaps the country would never recover, or worse, the thermal attacks and wars of two decades earlier might resume. Thaddeus believed his goal was to dispel those notions, and New York City was the ideal place to announce the rebuilding of the country once known as the world’s mightiest.

“A committee comprised of seven of the brightest minds here in New York City, has spent countless hours disseminating and debating a plan for national reconstruction. Our promise to you is that The United States of America will again be the beacon that guides the world through these tumultuous seas.”

There was applause, but this time the crowd went silent upon his signal.

“We feel that this plan is the best way to restructure and repopulate our country. So with no further adieu, please take note of the booklet you received upon entry. On page one are the words to God Bless America, a song that many of you people might not remember. It’s not a difficult pierce to learn and I ask now, that you all rise, and we join in singing our nation’s new national anthem.”

With the help of a microphone powered by a generator, Thaddeus’s booming baritone further inspired the attendees, all of whom stood and set their eyes upon the fifty-foot U.S. flag behind the podium. As if having rehearsed it, the members took hands and sang along. 

“God bless America, Land that I love.

Stand beside her and guide her
through the night with the light from above
From the mountains to the prairies

To the oceans white with foam
God bless America, my home sweet home.

God bless America, my home sweet home.”

When they finished there was hardly a dry eye among them. There were shared hugs and handshakes before all took their seats and Thaddeus presented the key piece of business.

“As you know, in the year two-thousand five, our beloved country came under thermal attack by beings not of this world. Hearty bands of Americans from around the country fought gallantly. From Big Springs, Nebraska and Cawker City, Kansas to the tiny hamlet of Stonecutter, California—every day people, much like you and I, united and fought against an enemy who’d come from billions of miles away to destroy the inhabitants of our planet and make it their own. We conquered that enemy, and those traitorous soles from the colony of New Europa, which was once known as Denver, Colorado. We defeated the enemy in the mountains of Winslow Rock, New Mexico, and finally in the barren countryside of Ascención, Mexico.

“Adam Turner, son of Daron Turner—the latter of whom is referred to as The Father of our new nation—led this hearty band of brave souls. Most of the people who fought with him—young men and women, the aged—perished in the mountainous ruins of that Mexican city.”

There was enthusiastic applause and Thaddeus waited for nearly a minute for it to subside.

“Today we know of two surviving enclaves of hybrids. These genetically modified beings continue to multiply and to this point have posed no threat. We have these hybrids under constant surveillance, but that will not be enough. Our safety shall not be assured until we have rebuilt our nation and developed the means to defend ourselves against attack from those earth-borne or otherworldly!”

Thaddeus throat was so dry; it felt as if it might close up. He drained half of a small glass of water before continuing. “We need more Daron Turners, people with a fighting and migratory spirit, who are willing to put the survival of all, over individual freedoms, for either all are liberated or none are. We seek fighting men and women whose determination burns white-hot, for we are about to undertake is the most vital chapter in our nation’s history.”

He paused, partly for effect, but also to ascertain whether or not there was a collective spirit among the flock. There was something emanating from the crowd that he could feel, like a Major League Baseball pitcher probably felt when the crowd was standing in anticipation of a game-ending strikeout.

“Sacrifices must be made, and that takes a combination of courage and optimism, things Americans have never been short on. As explained in the booklets we passed out, our plan is for mass migration to, and reconstruction of, twenty-six strategically selected regions.”

There was a buzz throughout the room and this time, Thaddeus had to motion to retain the crowd’s attention.

“From ashes will arise new cities and satellite communities that will educate, provide for, and defend its citizenry. This is what we use to call Ujima, or collective work and responsibility: It means we build and maintain our community together and make our brothers’ and sisters’ problems our problems, and to solve them together. From the oceans that roar on both coasts, to the Gulf of Mexico; and the majestic mountains of the Pacific Northwest; From the Florida Keys; across the Great Plains and the serene vista that makes up our northern border, we will come together to reestablish our ideals. We aspire to this cause because it’s part of our make-up to make our dreams reality.”

Thaddeus lowered his eyes to the booklet before him, titled The Plan To Rebuild America. He asked that the people open them. Once they had flipped the page, Thaddeus continued.

“As sure as the reconstructed Statue of Liberty stands proudly in New York harbor, so shall America stand; representing the most diverse gathering of people the world has ever seen and a beacon of hope. We will stand shoulder to shoulder to rebuild and then lead the world into the future, and in these pages you will find the outline for carrying out these tasks.”

There was a long pause, to such an extent that the audience thought Thaddeus might have lost his train of thought.

He allowed the audience to peruse the headings before he delivered his summation. “I would like to thank you all for coming out. Speaking on behalf of the committee, we would like you to go home, sit down with your loved ones and read through this plan. It is rooted in the fervent belief that Hollywood will once again be the movie capital of the world; Detroit will re-establish its automotive supremacy; Nashville will churn out country music, the Midwest will reign as the agricultural hub of not only America, but the world. Holidays and long forgotten traditions, from Christmas celebrations to Mardi Gras…”

His words were drowned out by applause, whistles and shouts of jubilation. After the excitement ebbed, Thaddeus told the crowd, “…will again be celebrated. We are asking not hundreds, but thousands of you and your friends, neighbors and family members to make a major sacrifice. We ask that you follow our request without question.”

Thaddeus stood and with an unwavering gaze and voice warned, “As I mentioned, we are in this together. Once you have agreed to abide by the directives issued, any recalcitrance and we will consider you unfit to live amongst decent, hardworking folk and as God is my witness, we will deal with you like any traitor.”

With  that, Thaddeus bid the crowd good night.

* * * *

New York City was the hub of the United States, a beehive of activity as in the days before the thermal war. The population was significantly less, 19,000 persons, covering 470 square miles that were once inhabited by 8.2 million people. Roughly a third of these folks were natives of the city, but there were contingents from every nook and cranny of the Americas, and still others from as far away as Argentina, and even a small contingent of farmers who had wandered from the nether reaches of northern Canada.

The modern city, much of it still in disrepair twenty years after the alien invasion, was also home to 600 European immigrants that arrived on a refurbished steamer, which set sail out of England thee months earlier. This collection of boat people had come from every region of Europe, and was made up of persons whom had once been scholars, scientists and members of royalty.

From what information had been passed along (primarily by the English arrivals), other countries were struggling to reclaim their identity and many of the European countries were war-torn. While the aliens and their hybrid progeny had been defeated, there were tribal battles among earth beings over land and resources. Germany had emerged as the lone European Community survivor that had established a facsimile of functioning central authority. They had lined their borders with soldiers and executed anyone attempting to cross them.

There were unsubstantiated claims of alien strongholds on the North coast of Africa and in Scandinavia; also that the Middle East had become an alien-free zone, but developed into a vast theocracy unfriendly to foreigners. The Imams in the region were reluctant to “revisit the mistakes of the past, by introducing western culture and debauchery” to their region. Infrastructure issues, however, left them as destitute as other parts of the world.

* * * *

Thaddeus was driven home in a carriage. Sitting alongside him was his long-time friend, Oscar Bochy and his wife Gertrude. The Bochy’s resided west of Howard Beach with their twelve-year-old son, Staten, named for the Island where his parents grew up. Years earlier Oscar served as the State Treasurer, and while he was the same age as Thaddeus, his wife was a forty-one year-old former Victoria’s Secret model.

“The people are afraid, Thaddeus,” Oscar moaned. “Where there is no news, there is bad news. For example, they have no idea of what is happening in South America, and many live with the fear that aliens might set up operations there.”

“We have to take advantage of that paranoia.” Thaddeus turned to look his friend in the eye. “The fear of something lurking in the shadows has always been an impetus for rallying the people to a collective mindset.”

“But that is duplicitous. On the one hand you call for us to move boldly into the new world, while at the same time you hope the people remain fearful.”

“That is because during such trying times Americans have come to rely on the government for reassurance and protection. It worked after Pearl Harbor, the attacks of nine-eleven, the thermal attacks of two thousand five, and now more than ever we need a flag-waving event, so that Americans will adhere to the plans set forth by the Central Committee.”

“We are starting to sound like Communists.”

Thaddeus dismissed such a notion with snort. “I have no dreams of creating an autocratic government, nor does anyone else on the committee. In fact, the committee is temporary, until we can set in motion the tools for a nationwide election. We want the reestablishment of what has always been: government for and by the people.”

“We might not be alive to see that.”

“Maybe not, but we would be derelict if we did not try and lay the groundwork.” Thaddeus took on a solemn tone. “I worry that this great land might break into a group of nation states with little or no inte4raction between them. That could lead to battles over resources and territory. Or maybe a colony similar to what had existed in New Europa might emerge, which could be followed by the reintroduction of slavery, or trigger a race war.”

“I think you are being melodramatic,” Oscar replied with a chuckle.

“I just want Americans to believe that the sacrifice they are making are necessary for our survival.”

“You’re asking thousands of people to relocate to a region of the country that they are unfamiliar with, and that would require undertaking infrastructure projects unlike any in the history of America.”

“Our countrymen have always dreamed big, and I see no reason why we can’t again link the country by the interstate system and also create coast-to-coast high-speed rail service.”

“Hopefully our fellow Americans dream as vividly as you do,” Oscar said wistfully.

* * * *

The Plan To Rebuild America was a methodical and intensely debated set of guidelines, that consisted of five and ten-year plans to get the country back on solid footing. It covered processes of repairing the infrastructures of various cities across the country, establishing communication and trade between the hubs, setting up a government and court system as well as police forces, penal institutions and utilities districts. It required, however, a migration unseen in the annals of the country’s history.

The plan was the brainchild of Thaddeus, who two years earlier, met with seven of New York’s most well-known personalities, primarily former businessmen and politicians, and put together the manual as a means of “forever protecting our sovereignty and reestablishing the moral and democratic principles so precious to those who fought and died for them.”

The plan as they saw it was “Complex but doable.” The migration was designed to establish the twenty-six key regions, boost the populations of those regions, then splinter off ten percent of that community to surrounding rural areas to repeat the process every ten years and bridge the distance between towns. This would make it easier to maintain an accurate accounting of the population (a census was to be conducted every five years), and make it easier to rally a militia in the event of an emergency. This would also minimize opportunities for hybrids to establish enemy cells on American soil. The goal was that within twenty years no fewer than sixty major communities would be established, none separated by more than 150 miles.

The complexity involved in transporting large groups of people, as well as feeding, housing, arming them and providing the resources needed for what would in some cases be a cross-country trek, was not underestimated. A fleet of three hundred busses was needed, and recruitment was undertaken for finding the persons qualified to lead such a task. The population of the city, no doubt the nation’s largest, made the search for such men a quick one, and within weeks a team of skilled laborers began working on repairing busses fueled by ethanol and electricity.

For two years an ethanol processing plant had been up and running in Brooklyn, but the next goal was to set up fueling stations along the interstate, even though providing fuel for an armada of busses would be a mind-boggling undertaking. Scout crews were sent ahead to locate possible sources of fuel.. Within a year they had come back with a plan they believed was workable.

The goal was to send the majority of the busses west, so as to try and establish all of the chosen sites in as uniform a fashion and time span as possible. Those trips of less than 250 miles would be done by wagon train, with “wagon” being a literal reference. Each pioneering group would consist of approximately 350 persons. This would reduce the population of New York by nearly fifty percent.

Even though some of the regions were already populated, nearly all of them lacked technical expertise: Construction workers, engineers, medical personnel, mechanics, welders, communications experts, utility workers, and agricultural experts. Such groups were divvied up as fairly as possible and military personnel, already thin in ranks, would exist at ten key regional centers.

Whenever possible kin, friends and neighbors were placed together, and emphasis was on making sure each group had a similar racial make-up, so as not to create a race-based or ideological enclave that might pose problematic in the future. Blacks and Latinos comprised just over half of New York’s population, hence, power-sharing had not become a problem.

* * * *

One week after the Madison Square Garden rally, the Central Committee began circulating flyers stating that the migration would take place at the commencement of spring thaw, under the assumption that moderate temperatures would occur across the country. Each group would be expected to reach their destination within two weeks. Weaponry would be distributed, and all men between ages 15 and 30 were to be trained for military duty. All females would undergo physical and munitions training as well. 

Once they arrived in their new cities, transportation would be available only for governmental business and to move people to and from their worksites. The reasoning behind this was that through walking and biking, the citizenry would remain physically fit. Regions would be established for waste disposal (landfills), though each area also had to produce a recycling center within two-years.

The residents of the twenty-six sites selected were given two major assignments. The first was to rebuild the interstate near their sphere of influence. The second was to become a production Mecca for agricultural, communications, technological or other needed service. This would spread out the nation’s manufacturing capability and in the event of an attack, would keep it from being wiped out all at once.

One such mission, established for Carson City, Nevada (the capital city of the western region), was to reconstruct I-80 as far east as Cheyenne, Wyoming. (Workers in other cities would assume the task when the roadway reached their area.) The goal was to have I-80 repaired and reopened within two years. Even though interstate 80 would pass near Big Springs, the site would be remembered as a national historic site, as would Cawker City, Kansas, and Winslow Rock, New Mexico. Denver, the destroyed home of New Europa, would remain barren and a place for scientific study and nothing more.

Within five years every region was to be connected by highway and in ten years by rail, since in many places the foundations were still intact, A system of mass transportation systems, powered by alternative fuels, was also planned for operation within that timeframe.

All regions were also expected to establish an agricultural identity and to distribute fifty percent of its harvest to other regions. Civil defense shelters were to be built and maintained. In addition to these orders, every family was to maintain a garden or orchard, raise poultry or other animal (such as rabbits) to provide for their nutritional well-being.

Some regions were beyond repair and scouts that the New York committee sent west advised that most of California remain undeveloped. Future plans were to make Los Angeles the site of a desalination plant to alleviate water woes in the region. For now, the state was primarily a region under study by geologists and naturalists. The presence of “The Lake Consuela residents,” however, was duly noted.

Some cities in the Gulf Of Mexico, most notably New Orleans, the Texas shoreline, Gulfport (Mississippi) and Mobile (Alabama) were underwater and consider irreparable.

Finally, there would be six scout groups, four to explore Canada and two designated for assignment in Mexico. The Canadian crews would depart out of Seattle, Great Falls (Idaho), Portland (Maine), and Detroit. The Mexico bound crews would leave out of Lake Havasu and Oklahoma City. They letter group was assigned to explore a two hundred mile area of Northern Mexico. Their mission was to seek out alien enclaves, or communities where good will and trade could be established. Within eighteen months they would report back to their post of origin and the central command in Carson City and New York.

A uniform school curriculum was further established, with daily requirements of math, science, language arts and physical fitness/nutrition. Guerilla warfare strategy and tactics was part of the training. Students “not academically inclined” were to be trained as laborers and tradespersons.

* * * *

Prior to the event at MSG, Thaddeus traveled to Aberdeen, Maryland to see the progress the Institute of Chemical Defense was making. For the past year the scientists there had been working on chemical-based weapons to fend off aliens and hybrids alike. If their claims were true, the first batch would be available for immediate shipment to south Texas, where a number of scientists had gathered along with military personnel. A similar group was sent to Florida to keep watch on the hybrid population in the former Okefenokee National Wildlife Reserve.

After hearing the news, Thaddeus was able to relax as he and his driver made their way back to New York.

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