Murmurs came from the crowd. Some glanced at the fields, and the ring of wags turned on their headlights.
“Don’t live in no America!” an old man shouted. “This be Tennessee!”
The lieutenant scowled at the man until he lowered his head. “As I was saying,” the blue shirt continued, “you will receive the fabulous honor of being allowed to work for the glorious Great Project and help us rebuild America! It is a noble cause, one you will tell your grandchildren about with pride. Yes, you very people can become soldier-workers whose strong backs and brave hearts will gloriously fulfill our nation’s ultimate destiny!”
There were more murmurs from the farmers, and the sec man began to wonder if any of them knew half the words he was using from the speech given to him. He decided it was time to cut to the bone of the matter.
The officer tossed the paper aside. The major was an ass; he knew how to do this. “All right, listen up you, brain-dead hillbilly scum!” he snarled. “We’re here to gather everybody in the ville capable of doing a day’s work. No pregnant women, crips or babies. But everyone else is coming with us!” He paused a moment to let that sink in.
“We asked this service of Shiloh ville down the road. The leaders of that ville foolishly refused us.” The sec man paused again. “We begged them to reconsider, but they refused to help America and forced us to punish them severely.”
The lieutenant took a breath and lowered his voice. “Shiloh will no longer worry about how to bring in their crops or hunt for food.” The whisper changed to a shout. “Or anything! Have you seen what remains of their ville? Well, have you?”
Sobs came in reply, and he knew they had seen. This was why Dr. Jamaisvous waited a day before sending them to the next ville, to let the word spread and the fear build.
“As workers for the New American Army, you’ll receive three meals a day, clean housing, and after one season you’ll be sent home with a blaster and a pocketful of ammo. We have done this before and will do so again.”
Faint hope brightened in their faces, and he smiled benignly at the crowd. God, what a lie, the officer thought, but kept a straight face. “That’s the deal. Work and reap rewards. Or defy us, and force us to again bring down terrible destruction.”
As if on cue, the overcast atmosphere rumbled and miraculously cleared, the heavily polluted clouds thinning until an azure sky was visible. Sunlight flooded the ville. Some of the people stared in wonder; others gasped in fear at the unnatural sight.
“Yes! The sky is ours to command. Watch!”
Another rumble, and the clouds rolled in to obscure the sun. As they touched, sheet lightning flashed and continued raging for more than a minute.
“Get in the bastard wags,” the lieutenant ordered, supremely confident.
Beaten, the people of the ville walked toward the waiting line of vehicles. Sec men armed with long-blasters separated them, the men going in one truck, the women into another. A young woman saw the leering faces of the blue shirts and realized her horrible fate. With an anguished cry, she pulled out a knife from under her skirt and slit her own throat. Bright blood gushed from the wound, and she fell limply to the ground. At the sight, the farmers tensed, fear overlapping into anger, rage fueling courage. Heads started to rise in defiance, and hands became fists.
In unison, the sec men fired their weapons into the air, and the heavy autofires on the wags added their awesome barks to the deafening cacophony. Hot shells rained over the farmers, making them wince and hide behind raised hands. Stunned, shaken, their hesitant resolve broke, and once more they started to climb into the wags. Iron shackles lay on the floor and they chained themselves without instructions, knowing it would be the last free act of their short lives but having no other choice.
As the wags started rolling away, the babies wailed as the whitehairs held them tight. Nobody left in the ville believed that they would ever see any the departing villagers again. Not alive, anyway.