Operation SERF

 

Part 8

 

By Chris Sullins (January 25, 2009)

 

Mike Shroud had worked at Steve’s ranch helping round up the cattle before returning to his trailer yesterday evening and sitting down to watch TV.  He had noticed most of the usual TV stations were still missing.  One that was back on the air had been replaced by a familiar 24 hours news format from a different channel.  The news shows had the same talking heads he remembered from the other station’s original line-up.  Another channel up and running again used the same station logo, format, and programs of another well known 24 hours news service, but had completely new people across the entire line-up. 

 

Mike couldn’t tell how “live” each news channel really was, but there seemed to be more miss-reading of the Teleprompters by the on-air speakers than in the past, both among the seasoned professionals he recognized and the brand new talking heads.  Although there were still breaks for commercials, it seemed some previously rotated ads for products were now gone from the week before.  However, there were new public service announcements which called for “vigilance” against “spies and enemies” that were never named nor described in any way.

 

Mike quickly noticed everything on the news had taken on a more political tone than he had become accustomed to over the last decade.  It was now far worse than he could remember even from the political talk radio days which had existed until little more than a decade after the turn of the century.  One of the news channels had guest experts who called for the immediate arrest and trial of various agency heads and elected officials from back East.  These TV guests who often had agency titles or elected offices below their own names stated these other federal stewards had betrayed their oaths, their fellow citizens, and their country and were directly responsible for the terrorist attacks in DC and NYC. 

 

He recalled one program in which the reporter asked the expert panel directly “Is assassination an option if these fugitives refuse to hand themselves over?”  Mike made a mental note of the question and became surprised when the group came to a quick coalescence of agreement in favor of it without any debate regarding the morals of such an action.  The group went on talking about “rogue agencies”, “private armies”, and “paid mercenaries” who were protecting these “former public officials turned terrorists and criminals”.  They ended by discussing what level of force might be necessary to “get the job done” and it could take something close to “open war between the states to see that things are set right again for the sake of justice”.

 

Mike had fallen into a half sleep in front of the TV.  After another hour of men in suits spewing political vitriol had ended, he had tired of seeing the same scenes of people beginning to die from radiation sickness in DC and NYC.  However, his attention had perked up when the national news shifted its coverage to other events from around the nation and he heard the phrase “this just in from Michigan” –his home state.

 

Mike’s eyes went from fatigued slits to shocked opened orbs when he caught glimpses between crowd bystanders of his brother and nephew coming out of a tavern.  Mike had last visited his wife, his pregnant daughter, and her boyfriend at the same tavern prior to a family argument and him moving out west.  He vaguely remembered the dispute had been between him and his wife over their daughter’s boyfriend, but the details had been lost since then.  It had seemed to be the last straw on top of a hay bale of problems throughout their entire marriage.

 

He heard the voice of the newscaster continue speaking in English over someone else who sounded French in the background.  It did not appear to be a translation, but rather an explanation that the footage had come from “somewhere in the state of Michigan” was “secretly filmed by an illegal alien” and appeared to show “state police officers and deputized citizens detaining a foreign agent suspected of infiltrating the homeland and conducting acts of sabotage against the national infrastructure.”

 

The scene of the group leading the man down the street cut back to the interior of the tavern showing scattered “smuggled weapons” and bloody “bodies of three foreign mercenaries who were known collaborators with the fifth column traitors and terrorists within the federal government”.  The video on the screen went back to the earlier scene of the man being led out of the tavern, walking down the street with the group, and back to the interior of the tavern again.  These same three segments repeated in the same order twice more back to back with the news commentator in the background tying the three dead men in with “an illegal shadow government operating from its isolated strongholds in Chicago and Indianapolis and had attempted to usurp national authority after they perpetrated the terrorist acts out East”.

 

Mike slouched back in his chair but with his eyes still wide open as the newsman began to introduce two men and one woman.  The newsman went round to each one who admonished the viewing audience about the dangers of both the “foreign terrorists” and “domestic traitors” on the one hand while criticizing the local people in the video on the other for “failing to capture all the foreign operatives alive” and “missing a valuable opportunity to extract all possible intelligence from them”.  Mike became slightly confused when one of the guests sitting closest to the newsman referred to the foreign operatives once as “four dead terrorists” and then a second time as “four dead mercenaries” when he had only remembered seeing three bodies in the tavern.  The show immediately cut to a commercial break while this guest was mid-sentence and Mike stood up to stretch his arms.

 

Mike wasn’t sure exactly what was going on back home, but he felt something was very wrong back in his home state.  He instinctively knew there was more to the story than what was on the video or had been said on the news.  For a moment Mike wished he had taken French back in high school.  In any event, he figured there was no time like the present in packing his backpack and starting the journey at first light.  Mike hoped Steve was over the whole toothpick thing and would give him a ride eastward.  If Steve still had all his bio-diesel ration points on his agricultural co-op card for this month, then maybe he could get to the state line and still allow Steve a return trip back.  Mike regretted not having anything of portable value other than one silver eagle coin to trade for more fuel or rides along the way, but he was willing to walk if he had to.

 

As Mike looked around his trailer for matching pairs of socks, he heard a news report which mentioned “motorist safety checks along I-30” which were “meant to protect citizens from across the United Southwestern States from highway bandits, armed drug runners and rogue military units from Mexico”.  Mike looked at the screen as an overhead view of the highway showed a bridge over a river “just East of Texarkana, Texas” from a helicopter.  The westbound cars and trucks were backed up for miles as far as the camera lens could magnify in the distance.  By contrast the line of cars going east was only a few hundred yards long.  He made a mental note that no tractor-trailers were going eastbound.

 

Another scene showed a checkpoint from the highway itself.  Motorists who approached a bridge over a river came to an opposing saw-tooth pattern of concrete blocks and were waved forward one at a time.  They were met by armed US soldiers and Texas State Police.  Mike found this interesting considering anything east of Texarkana, Texas was fully within the state of Arkansas.

 

The news report moved to “another safety check along I-40 and Historic Route 66 at Shamrock, Texas” and showed westbound traffic which was again deeply congested, but the eastbound lanes were virtually empty.  As the helicopter turned and flew back over the northern half of Shamrock, Mike noticed two U-shaped buildings facing a spur from the main highway all had their open ends with the parking areas fully enclosed by tall concrete t-blocks.  Mike had seen this physical security feature frequently during his past deployments to the Middle East.  But, he did not recall such features being in place on any of these buildings when he stopped there with Steve during a trip to Oklahoma two years ago.

 

There was additional street-level video of the I-40 westbound checkpoint showing black SUVs with flashing lights parked behind a few staggered 4-foot thick barrier cubes on the highway made of heavy wire mesh and filled to their open tops with large chunks of gravel.  Two dozen armed men in tan uniforms but wearing no patches had people getting out of the private vehicles and opening their trunks.  Also reminiscent to Mike of the Middle East was the armed tan men wore balaclavas covering their faces.

 

Mike picked up his small ceramic water filter and an empty hydration bladder.  He could stuff his backpack and pockets with as much beef jerky as he could carry, but questioned how long this food would really last on the road after he was walking many miles daily.  Mike packed a folding knife, a small envelope with a few hooks and a spool of fishing line, but wondered how many locals he would be competing against along the way for fishing spots.  They, too, had probably been joined by a large number of new refugees from the East Coast now massing along the major highways and spreading out for miles from them in every direction. 

 

He owned a rifle, a shotgun, and a handgun, but knew the long arms even when carried by a shoulder strap in a soft case would garner immediate attention during every step of his trip.  Their weight was another major factor and it just didn’t make sense to carry them nearly 2,000 miles on foot through numerous towns when his brothers probably still had firearms back home waiting for him if needed.  He seriously considered carrying his handgun, but knew once he left his home state his registration permit was useless.  Possessing the weapon unloaded in his backpack would still be a serious problem if he was caught up in a hasty military checkpoint or otherwise hassled by a paranoid police officer while passing through a town. 

 

Mike visibly smirked that despite his years of military service defending his country that currently being out of uniform his country wouldn’t trust him with little more than a toothpick for self-defense.  For the first time in many years, Mike prayed for an answer.  A few seconds later after being answered with silence, he flipped his silver coin to decide the issue and stepped out the door into the early morning darkness unarmed.

 

*           *           *

 

Phillipe,” said Josiah from his usual spot on the couch while motioning to the chair,”you wanted to talk.  Please have a seat.”

 

“So much has happened in such a short time,” began Phillipe as he sat down. 

 

“Yes, more than I ever expected,” confirmed Josiah. 

 

“Jacques and I have talked this over and we would like to stay here longer,” said Phillipe.

 

“Would that be overstaying your visa?” asked Josiah.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Given the state of my country and the trouble we’re having right now, are you really sure you want to stay here and get mixed up in all of this?” asked Josiah.  “I don’t know who might be coming for us next.  Probably more of those men in gray.”

 

“I really believe this is where the real news is at right now,” answered Phillipe.  “I think the story here will be a microcosm for what could happen to all of us anywhere.  We were hoping to stay on for at least a few weeks and possibly much longer if we can.”

 

“If you wish, but I do have to warn you that things are getting tight around here,” said Josiah.  “I’m not just talking about the gray men roaming around the countryside; we’re coming into a time when there will be a serious lack of food here until early summer.  Quite frankly, I’m not sure how we’re going to take care of both of you even a month from now.  At the same time my own people will be heading further and further out  around the area trying to monitor what’s going on and giving the families back here some warning.  That’s going to take food and fuel.”

 

“I understand that you consider us guests,” said Phillipe, “but I would insist on paying for us to remain here.  I know you like gold, but I don’t carry it with me.  But, I could pay you in Euro notes.”

 

Phillipe, I really appreciate the offer,” said Josiah with a smile, “but your paper is completely worthless here.  Tell you what.  You and Jacques could help out around here by cutting firewood, skinning some animals, and ice fishing.  That would free up my family members from having to do these things for you.”

 

“I’ve never done those things before,” said Phillipe.

 

“Are you willing to try?”

 

“Yes, of course,” answered Phillipe with confidence.  “I would like to learn.”

 

“Do you have any other skills besides being a reporter?”

 

“I was an electrical engineer prior to becoming a reporter,” Phillipe stated.

 

“My brother in law who lives on the next property over was one, too, many years ago,” commented Josiah.  “We have some radios and a few laptops we run off of small windmills and solar panels.  Not much work for you to do with those.  That’s all low maintenance.  How about you and Jacques help Kevin out for now?”

 

“Yes, I’m sure we can do that,” said Phillipe.

 

“That would be great,” said Josiah.  “On a different subject I was told you had asked earlier this morning about the funerals.”

 

“Yes,” said Phillipe.  “I wondered if we could take video of the funeral.  Also, we had overheard someone mention a preparation ritual for the bodies and wondered about being present for that as well.”

 

“Funeral, yes, preparation of the bodies, no,” said Josiah without emotion and very business-like.  “There really isn’t a formal ritual per se, but it’s a private matter for the family members who have chosen to do the washing and dressing of the bodies.  Taking video would be extremely insensitive and disruptive.  There’s some talking and often a lot of thinking which must be done before the bodies are put into the ground.  We really believe in burying them quickly –within three days of death.”

 

“I have travelled around the Middle East,” said Phillipe.  “This sounds very similar to what I’ve seen the Jews and Muslims do with their dead.”

 

“Christians did this, too,” said Josiah, “prior to the embalming industry and funerals managed by strangers.  There really isn’t anything unique about how we take care of our own here; rather I think you would find it very universal among many peoples.  I think it harkens back to the old ways of doing such things when people were more tribal.”

 

“If I may ask, what religion are you?” asked Phillipe.

 

“Good question,” said Josiah, “I still wonder at times myself.  I believe in God.  I think there are a lot of unseen forces which I can’t explain.  There were things that happened which don’t seem like a coincidence.  The extended family members here have a variety of religious backgrounds.  We have every major religion represented here from both the Shrouds who have traveled around this country and the world and come back here as well as the other families we have joined with.”

 

“Will the funeral take place in a Church before going to a cemetery?” questioned Phillipe.

 

“There are still a couple of places of worship left here and some home fellowships –with both open and closed groups, but we will take the bodies directly from Judy’s private home to the grave sites here on the family land,” answered Josiah.  “I’m sure that’s probably breaking some state law still on the books, but again, that’s how things were done in the past and that’s how we do them here once again.”

 

“Everyone will be buried here –including the friend of Judy’s husband?” asked Phillipe.

 

“Frank’s father was a bit despondent when my sister went over to ask him about his wishes,” said Josiah.  “He’s probably 80 years old.  Frank stayed here after the jobs began leaving twelve years ago because his father wanted to die here.  Frank’s blood is with Shroud blood and he will be buried here.  That is how we will honor his friendship to the family.  But, I have a feeling I’ll be putting his father in the ground before the month is out.  I think he has a plot reserved next to his deceased wife at the cemetery outside of town.  We’ll have someone stopping by to see him every few days and drop off some food and bring in some firewood, but I doubt he’s going to move from his chair until his time comes, too.”

 

“You say this all so matter of fact,” commented Phillipe.  “So emotionless.”

 

“I’ve already lost my own wife –we had a wonderful marriage by the way— and I’ve personally dug the holes for both neighbors and family members over the last few years,” said Josiah.  “I buried a niece who died during childbirth last year.  We lost her and the baby.  We had one grave for them both.  Phillipe, are things really much better in Europe by comparison?”

 

“I suppose it depends on exactly where you live,” answered Phillipe as he looked down at the floor and his face slightly reddened due to embarrassment rather than sadness or anger.

 

“Don’t trouble yourself with it,” said Josiah empathetically.  “This is more a measure of how far things have fallen here.  No, how much they’ve changed here.  The word fallen implies that all has been negative here during this time.”

 

Phillipe instantly looked at Josiah and asked “What is the silver lining in the dark cloud that you’ve found here?”

 

“Freedom,” answered Josiah immediately.

 

“Freedom?” said Phillipe as he became just as quickly confused by the answer.  “You have absolutely no security in your life here.”

 

“When did I ever really have security, Phillipe?” began Josiah.  “I’ve been alive for 50 years.  Did I have security when the nuclear sword of Damocles was constantly suspended over my head during the Cold War?  Did I have security when my country became entangled in one foreign matter after another?  Did I have security when my economy was globalized, inflated, out-sourced, devalued, suspended, and then the so-called domestic safety net yanked out from under me?  Where did all my insurance, healthcare, and retirement plans go?  What kind of security did I really have when some anonymous thugs from an unnamed government agency showed up and killed my relatives?”

 

“But even you have said that things will get worse now,” countered Phillipe gently.

 

“Yes,” agreed Josiah before adding “but things were going to get worse even before this happened.  The only thing different may be the speed we will take on the timeline.  In many ways the course has already been locked in and set for us –for all of us.  It was an unconscious thing from the start and now that some of us have awakened to the current situation, we realize we might be too late.  It’s akin to flying in an airplane with the pilots already bailed out, the landing gear broken, the fuel tank a hair above empty, and not enough parachutes left to go around for the passengers.”

 

“I played a group cohesion game at a conference years ago called Lifeboat…” began Phillipe.

 

“I don’t want you to miss the analogy that uses a petroleum-based fuel, Phillipe,” interrupted Josiah, “especially since you’re still a member of the jet-set.”

 

“My company pays for all my air travel,” stated Phillipe.  “I couldn’t afford any of it on my own.”

 

“Very few individuals can anymore,” said Josiah.  “But that brings up energy security doesn’t it?  That’s really the most important one when it comes to running a global empire.  There’s not a single country or group and certainly not an individual which really has energy security anymore.  Why do you think we’ve had over 80 years of resource wars?  The people who ran those wars usually weren’t honest about why we had them, but we know better now that it was to maintain the lifestyle and the world order which we had become accustomed to for the last few generations.  Do you know how often I use to read about energy security on the internet?  We use to hear about it in the news all the time.  It came up quite frequently over the supply of oil, then natural gas, then nuclear fuel. 

 

“Some Americans adjusted early to the shortages by doing more for themselves and attempting to add in alternative energies.  But, all the talk about going green and using less energy just didn’t work for a lot of people and they had difficulties readjusting their lifestyles based on what they had always known and done before.  While a lot of people complained and looked around for another government tit to suckle, my family and I spent our summers cutting firewood, planting gardens and orchards by hand, and listening to solar-powered radios.  Then there was the big jump in gas and food prices during the early teens followed by shortages of everything.  So with Great Depression Two underway people also get Great Disappointment Two followed by the first wave of big riots.  None of that violence even touched us here by the way. 

 

“I still remember when the President was on the radio talking about the key points of his new government program and used the exact phrase ‘Sustainable Energy, Recycling, and Farming’.  I thought what an amazing acronym even if he didn’t spell it out directly for everyone at home.  He said his –and I quote— “mandatory work program” would require everyone nationwide to participate at some level.  He said it would give our country all the economic and energy security it would ever need.  I immediately did not buy into that load of BS because historically such forced servitude has never meant security for anyone but the oligarchy at the top.  It was the moment when the old saying ‘those who would trade freedom for security deserve neither’ became crystal clear for me.”

 

“So you didn’t participate in the program?” asked Phillipe. 

 

“Ah, but here’s that big picture thing again, Phillipe,” said Josiah.  “Quite the contrary I did attempt to participate in it under the farming part at first.  There were consequences on the books if people didn’t.  However, no farming programs were approved by the federal government in our part of the state.  I personally had more than the minimum qualifying acres, lots of standing lumber available with a pending contract to a company in a pre-designated urban work zone, and productive organic orchards with my surplus going free to urban school lunch programs.  With some other large farms around us raising corn and livestock, we applied together as a ‘non-governmental citizens union’ as defined under the new regulations.  Our application was rejected literally a day after the program officially commenced.  Apparently we wouldn’t be able get our Citizen Energy Security points under the farming provision here. 

 

“Six months after our application was rejected and some other local farmers began leaving the area to work as laborers for approved unions down south, those of us who remained got letters from the same agency we had applied to earlier.  They advised we voluntarily sign over management of our lands to either a wildlife habitat control zone or to an agricultural work collective.  They promised in return to credit us energy security points and we could still reside in our homes on one acre lots.  The fine print that went along with it only allowed continued residence for currently living persons and without generational inheritance.  I must note with some irony that the people who took that option have all since found out their points became virtually worthless around here after the electricity and natural gas lines were pulled anyway.”

 

“It makes sense to me why you didn’t participate,” said Phillipe.

 

“I’m not done,” said Josiah.  “I did participate under the original federal program.  I went back and found the loophole put into it to make it more palatable for the people who thought they still had real money.  There wasn’t a lot of time for our so-called representatives to read the president’s plan before they passed it as law, of course, but there was a small provision in the two feet of stacked paper which allowed for comparatively fractional points if you purchased your own sustainable energy products for home power.  Of course, this had to be through approved dealers, and although we didn’t have much of an official credit card line available for the increasingly inflated retail prices, we found some ways around that on the gray market in return for our own goods.  Food and firewood always find trading partners in the urban jungle which has neither.  It was certainly better than moving away to work on someone else’s farm.  It was far better than moving to a fenced in camp outside of an urban renewal zone and living out of a tent and a porta-john. 

 

“Can you imagine living like that for a year after tearing down empty, but still habitable suburban homes for your first few weeks before spending months on end digging up 20 year old garbage pits?  I had friends in town who were auto factory workers that left for the program who later wrote me about it.  They thought there were going to get the sustainable energy manufacturing jobs.  They were surprised when all those went to the people already residing in the cities.  The zip code on an ID mattered more than experience or education at the processing centers.  If a person’s permanent residence was near a designated urban work zone, that’s where they went to work.  They didn’t have to move and they earned their energy credits.

 

“At first people played well together.  The ones with the jobs in the muck started with a positive view of things, pitched in to work at whatever they were assigned, and bought the ‘we’re all pulling ourselves up by the boot straps together’ propaganda they heard.   They even handled how they were looked down upon by the people who didn’t have to move and had the cleaner nicer jobs indoors.  But, when they found out that they were getting fewer credits put into their accounts and that the goods and services near their shanty towns actually cost more in cash, then they became angry.  Given that everyone could see the differences in treatment and living conditions, it wasn’t like the people who were better off at the start of the new game were going to trade down on both their residences and jobs.  So, of course, as can be expected in a situation of such disparity, there was another wave of big riots.”

 

“I had no idea this was going on,” said Phillipe.  “Up until I came here we were still seeing the occasional news story on TV or the internet in the EU about how well the program worked for everyone in America.  It was always emphasized that everyone worked as a willing volunteer.  We never saw people living in tents or picking through old garbage.  They were working in clean brightly lit factories or picking fruit or vegetables in sunny fields.  Everyone always looked happy.”

 

“That was the image we saw here during the early days while it was still covered,” said Josiah.  “It was all Potemkin Village cardboard crap to get more people to move.  The mandatory part of the program officially lasted a year, made millions of people re-locate, and then stranded many in those new locations hundreds of miles from their original homes.  It broke up extended families and communities.  And, even if they could redeem their accumulated energy credits for home utilities and mass transportation back in their original communities, it wasn’t like their old jobs were still waiting there anyway. 

 

“It left a lot of people the choices of either staying in the official government work program, the increasingly privatized parts of it, or moving again.  Both the public and private parts of the program had started paying in the new currency but no longer provided the energy credits.  Driving somewhere else to try their luck in the small market system –white, gray, or black— wasn’t much of a plan either for most people.  After a year of using up any of the old money they had left before the program, a lot of people didn’t exactly have a way to fill up the family car and roam around looking for new opportunities on distant horizons.  Why drive down the road just to empty the gas tank one last time and pitch a tent again somewhere else probably just as bad?  They stayed where the government program had placed them for the most part.  They needed the new money for food in the present and wanted to save up for a better place in the future closer to their work sites anyway.  A lot of hold-outs from the countryside later moved for the new money, too.  My own brother did.  Well, that and family problems.  I’m sure he has no idea what’s happened here now.”

 

After Josiah was quiet for a few seconds Phillipe asked “What do you think happens next in the big picture?”

 

“I can’t see the big picture right now.  Not all of it yet, at least,” said Josiah.  “I don’t have access to information like I use to.  I had watched it become so open source over my lifetime in the past.  There were no more real secrets left at one time.  Don’t get me wrong, there were still massive amounts of propaganda and manipulation; but it had become possible for some of us to sift through it all and casually see truths emerge.  Things have gone back now the other way where real information is scant and its perception is tightly controlled.  I’m not sure if the gray men we have seen here were modern oprichniki directed by one Tsar now ruling a large empire, or if these were hoplites in the style of a much smaller Greek city-state which has arisen post-fracturing of our once great United States.  Either way, I can tell you I will not submit to them as a serf or a helot.  I am a free man.”

 

End of Part 8

 

Previous Parts:

 

http://www.oftwominds.com/opSERF/OP-serf.html

 

Special notes from Chris Sullins:  Thanks for waiting on this installment.  I have been quite busy recently and my writing hobby had to take a back burner. 

 

If you’ve enjoyed reading this story, please consider making a donation to the oftwominds.com website.  Charles Hugh Smith has graciously provided space for it on his website for your reading enjoyment.  Although it’s from a genre outside the commentary and other essays which usually appear on OTM, I thank Mr. Smith in presenting this to a far wider audience than I would have been able to do on my own.  He has done this in the spirit of the First Amendment and in the fine tradition of experienced writers supporting new writers.  I give similar thanks to those people who’ve also linked from their websites and/or emailed friends and family.

 

This “strategic action thriller” has been hastily constructed one part at a time and appears as my schedule permits it.  There are bound to be some errors.  I have every intention of completing this as a free full online novel.  If there is sufficient interest, then the story you see here will be BOOK ONE and there will be another.  I may post a public email address in the future for comments, critiques, scathing reviews, mark-ups, praise, thanks or indifference from the online community. 

 

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons or events in the past, present, or future is probably either out of sheer coincidence or due to the cyclical nature of history.  The writer existing at this point in the timeline has no conscious awareness of any pending events which in later hindsight may seem have been due to currently unknown acts of retroactive causality emanating from future points. 

 

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