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I'm on the opposing side and even I am forced to admit that this is a
magnificently animated billboard. A family lies comfortably asleep around
a camp fire in a forest while a
fatherly-looking unity officer keeps watch over them. As he
shines his torch off into the darkness stylized Arabs, Europeans and
rednecks slink away into the shadows. The scene
is rendered in a beautiful retro cartoon style, with everyone smiling. ''Homeland
Unity: Working for a safer tomorrow.''
My journal beeps.
The billboard doesn't mean that much to me, really, certainly nothing
more profound than
frank admiration for the quality of the animation. Mom and dad cut and
ran for the free north after the treaty of '26, dragging Kyle and I
along like an unruly baggage train, so I've always looked on
HU as a weird big brother who prowls over other people.
But my command? Eight months ago they were unity officers and we took pot shots at each other across
the Vancouver line. Now they call me sir. Strange days and stranger bedfellows.
My journal beeps, again.
Annette Butler, aged 37. She was the
official greeter of Darrouzett, Texas, a mother of three, state
champion line-dancer, suave and friendly. And a Seattle patriot. Word
reached the town on Monday morning that the Commonwealth had finally
crossed from Oklahoma border at nearby Booker, and so the so
Darouzett's council met to decide what action they would take, if any.
After a hurried debate they had decided to remain with Washington and
broke so that word could be send out to the outlying households. When
they reconvened that night punch was served out, which virtually every
adult and many of the children in the town had at least one cup of.
Not a one of them woke up the next morning. Very little is known about
events of the next two days because Butler refuses to speak of it, even
under duress. What is known
is that just after dawn on Thursday morning a dishevelled and
blood-covered Annette Butler crossed our lines and asked to enlist in
the infantry, after proclaiming her loyalty to the Commonwealth and
signing the Charter. She passed our medical exam and after being
outfitted Annette was attached my unity as a Recruit Under Observation.
Union newbies make can make good soldiers if they don't flip out and go
ape **** in our first engagement, so we keep an eye on them until we're
sure they won't.
A voice pipes up from behind the billboard, threatening, pleading and
trying to coerce us. ''I say to you that when General Kiney hears word
of this he will folk
to the bullet, lest you fellows set me free now and take on my guidance
in this serious matter. I'm as much and more of a patriot than any of
you and...''
I tune it out and spend a moment just taking in the view. Plains
stretching to every horizon. We had snow during the night, with a
manifest promise of more to come lurking on the northern horizon.
As it was, our column's vanguard entered Darrouzett on Friday night and
discovered the dead. When word reached command, the rest of our group
were ordered to advance and set up quarters within the deserted
township while an investigation was launched, which was when Annette
deserted and ran south. The circumstances were enough that a pursuit
was ordered.
Butler was discovered trying to hide in a deepee convoy working it's
way west on Sunday. She stood out by virtue of the fact that she was a
lone woman who was clean, well-fed and hadn't been raped yet.
My journal chirps irritatedly and I finally open it up. I know what
awaits me there because while the wording might change, the order never
does.
To: Captain Gregory Pruitt, NAC Army Group 2, division 4.
From: North American Commonwealth Standing War Crimes Tribunal, Expedited Proceedings Department.
There's plenty of legal and military preamble, but out of the six pages, only two sentences matter:
Defendant has been judged guilty on all listed charges, upon review of available evidence and statements.Punishment is delegated to the discretion of enacting judicial officer.
The second message has glyphs that indicate such a priority that taking a moment to
reflect upon this fact is enough for me be charged with
negligence.
To: CaptinGregory Pruitt, NAC Army Group 2, division 4.
From: General Michael A. Kiney, Commander, NAC Army Group 2.
Subject: RE: Case #11456
<<Tap here to view quoted text>>
Captain,
Use of penal option 6 is authorized in this case.
General Michael A. Kiney,
NAC Second Army Group, Commander.
Butler was passed back into my
custody late last night for questioning, so we brought her out here to
Hill 442 for questioning. Standard operating proceedure. Strip them
naked, fetter them out in the snow and wait while they break
themselves. By ten o'clock she would have admitted to being *******
Captain Unity if we just let her be warm again.
Annette saved Darrouzett. She dammed them. I'm being framed by a Union
agent. It's been done, please believe me. You know how it goes, kill a
town full of civvies and blame the other side. I'm cold. My toes are
blue. I killed those sons of bitches, they won't see the writing on the
wall. How could I kill them? I'm a house wife.
I know I'm just delaying the inevitable, so take a deep breath as I step around to
where my unit is waiting, draw my side arm and shoot the prisoner in
the side of the head before she can react. The body flies sideways and falls down with a
long, drawn out sigh, twitches for a moment as blood and gore spatters over the
fresh snow and then Hill 442 is silent once more. My sergeant kicks the Butler's corpse
once to make sure she's dead and with a flick of his hand he orders the
troops back to our sled down at the base of the slope. They all hurry
away to the warmth and shelter of the armoured vehicle, not looking
back, as I pull out my journal and start to make a notation for
command.
I'm supposed to be one of the good guys helping to overthrow the
duopoly in Washington, yet I've just executed a prisoner with less
effort than I use to take a **** because someone on high doesn't want to
deal with a war crimes tribunal.
Is
this what all of our bright futures come to, a lonely body on a Texan
hill? Will this be my karma, somewhere up on the frozen east coast?
My journal beeps a confirmation and I give up on self-reflection in favour of being warm.
Copyright 2008 Mark Grealish
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