A quote: “The condition upon which God hath given liberty to man is eternal vigilance.” ~~ John Philpot Curran
I’ll start with a story …
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Something had been bothering Grandpa Ethan all winter. After the hard work of fall harvest, the downtime of winter was a welcome breather, but …
Rachel wasn’t the only one to notice. Family gathered at the table for supper, small talk, laughter, and a fork of food would stop halfway to Grandpa’s mouth.
“Dad?” Joshua’s voice edged with concern, “Everything alright?”
Ethan would shake his head, “Just winter worries, son.”
Some days he’d put on his snowshoes, grab a rifle and disappear for hours. Which itself wasn’t too worrisome except he rarely came back with game. Ethan always came back with game.
Evenings he’d talk with Rachel. Things were too smooth. The City had been quiet too long. Townies getting complacent and farmers less alert. Ethan was no gossip, but he was apt to tell his neighbors not to be forgetting Black September.
But everyone was.
Winter into spring, spring into summer and Ethan continued to stop and listen.
Until one red dawn, the family woke to Ethan’s yell … rushing outside to the porch as he ran to yard pointing to smoke in the distance. Running to meet the lathered horse that stumbled up to the house and catch a small figure that slipped off its back.
Ethan cradled her, wiped soot off her face. Rachel cried out, “That’s Jenny Butler!”
Jenny opened her eyes and whispered “Gray men!”
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Now, it’s your turn.
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. featured image, cropped, Adobe Stock standard license.
We’d known for over a year that something was out there, and it was doggone smart. The Kitties insisted that their telepaths had not detected any native species with the Pearl of Wisdom, a condition for clearing a world for settlement. But again and again we were getting hit by something that could work out complex locks, even electronic security systems, to go after our livestock and stored grain.
It was an annoyance when someone lost a few laying hens or a few rabbits being raised for personal consumption. But when one of those critters got into Jared Wineholt’s broiler operation and destroyed close to a hundred birds, we knew we had a major problem.
So we started taking precautions. Maybe the Kitties weren’t over-enthused about letting us have their little zap pistols, but with a decent machine shop and a little chemistry, we could turn out some decent firearms of our own. The next time those critters came around, we were going to bag ourselves some bandits.
That was the morning we woke to smoke rising from the north ridge, and realized that someone — or something — had set fire to the wheat that was just ready to harvest. With the wind coming out of the northwest, it was going to push that blaze right through our farmsteads and into town.
I raised the alarm as fast as I could. Get our families out of here, and try to fight the fire as best we could. With luck the Kitties would get their fuzzy butts down here with their fancy fire-suppression tech and we’d be able to salvage at least something of the fruits of our labor.
If not, the Quartermaster-general’s Office was going to be very interested in what was going on here, considering how many of us have provisioning contracts, and insurance through the military.
Cameron says: I stepped outside with my whiskey and nodded at grandpa.
“You finish cleaning the dishes?” he asked.
“Just now. Figured I’d watch the world for a little bit.” I pointed at the conflagration that was lighting up the sky. “You don’t seem worried about the fire.”
“Hm? Oh right. No, no; I have enough of a fire break to keep it away. And Sully over at the Prescott farm was over about an hour ago to hose the area down for me. He’s a good kid. Even called to make sure I was happy with the work.”
“So…about the people whose land is burning?”
“Not our problem. They made a big fuss about living in harmony with Gaia. They heard about how the Indians did controlled burns and figured they knew better.”
“And the fire department?”
“They wouldn’t pay the fees. Something about decolonizing the area or something. None of them are calling for help so nothing will be done.”
I grinned in realization. “They’re probably going to sell pretty cheaply once it’s done, aren’t they?”
“Already planning to buy it up. It’s decent land and you’re ready to run a farm. Besides, I’m not ready to retire. You interested?
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