Trent Reedy - Divided We Fall

“Wait. Hold on. Quiet,” JoBell said, turning the volume up on the living room screen. President Rodriguez was giving a speech, sitting behind his desk in the Oval Office.

“Oh, will you shut that off?” said Sweeney. “Better yet, put on some music.”

JoBell stared at the screen and held up her hand. “Shhh.”

President Rodriguez spoke sternly, looking directly at the camera. “… have every hope for a peaceful resolution to this crisis. However, Governor Montaine has produced an intolerable situation by posting Idaho National Guard soldiers along all the borders of Idaho in an illegal effort to block the entry of federal military and law enforcement personnel. I cannot wait any longer to take action in reply. That is why, effective immediately, all federal financial aid to the state of Idaho has been cut off. Furthermore, I have given orders to the United States Army to create a blockade that will allow anyone to leave Idaho, but will not allow any people or materials to enter. All flights into the state have been canceled.”

“He can’t do that! That’s totally illegal!” JoBell shouted.

“Shhh,” Sweeney said. He wasn’t messing around either, but really listening.

“I appreciate the cooperation of the governments and people of Washington, Oregon, Nevada, and Utah. I’ve been in touch with the governors of Montana and Wyoming. They have met in emergency session with their legislatures and agreed that they don’t want the dangerous situation that Governor Montaine has created spilling into their states. They have also asked that besides normal business at existing federal military outposts within their states, no additional federal troops be assigned for blockade operations. Instead, the Idaho borders with Montana and Wyoming will be closed and patrolled by state police and National Guard personnel from those two states. The end result will be the same. As of this moment, the Idaho border is closed.”

“Bastard’s gonna try to starve us out,” Cal said.

“If Governor Montaine and the members of the Idaho state legislature who voted for nullification truly support the people they claim to represent, they will stand down their soldiers and surrender themselves to federal authorities.”

“Now Idaho representatives are arrested for voting like morons?” JoBell said.

“If they start arresting every elected idiot, there won’t be anyone left,” said Sweeney.

“In the meantime, I fully expect all members of the Idaho National Guard to report for federal duty by zero eight hundred hours tomorrow as ordered. Any member of the Idaho National Guard who does not report at that time will be deemed as guilty as Governor Montaine and those select members of the Idaho legislature.

“The Idaho Crisis has gone on for far too long, and now, unfortunately, unprecedented measures must be taken to restore order and the rule of those laws duly passed by the legal representatives in the United States Congress. Further announcements will follow. May God bless the United States of America.”

The screen went black for a second and then went back to the CNN newsroom. A gray-bearded man sat motionless for a moment before snapping alert. “Welcome back to the CNN Idaho Crisis situation room. I’m Al Hudson. We’ve been monitoring large-scale troop movements in the northwestern part of the United States all afternoon, and there’s been much speculation about what those movements could mean, but it seems now we have our answer. For any of you joining us now, and for those of you who saw the president’s announcement and are as shocked as I am, let’s review what the president of the United States just told us.”

The screen went dark. Becca was holding the remote control. The look on her face made it clear that she wasn’t listening to any arguments about turning it back on. A tear ran down her face, but she quickly wiped it away. She looked to Sweeney and me. “Our parents are trapped out of state. We need to talk.”

Becca’s comm rang.

“JoBell, a call labeled urgent is coming in from your father,” said Digi-Eleanor.

“Breaker one nine! Hey Cal, Daddy Big Bear is squawkin’ for you. Come back now, ten four,” said Cal’s Digi-Trucker John.

“Mmmm, Eric, baby. You got a call coming in, you big hot stud.” The voice from Sweeney’s comm was breathy and hot. “Come get it, big boy.” Sweeney picked up his comm. I saw the naked brunette in the bottom right corner pop-up video. “Yes! Eric, I want your fingers on me. Touch me all over! Tap in to that call. Tap me hard, Eric.”

“Hey partner, your mama’s calling. You gonna take this?” said Digi-Hank.

Everybody knew their worried parents were calling, but nobody tapped in yet.

“Ooooh, Eric, tap me! I can’t wait any longer!”

“Okay, Trixie,” said Sweeney. “Calm down, baby.” He seemed to notice us staring. “What?”

“Really, Eric?” JoBell asked. “What if someone calls while you’re at school?”

“No problem,” said Sweeney. “As soon as Trixie gets near school, she puts her clothes and glasses back on and becomes Hot Librarian Trixie. She’s the best digi-assistant ever programmed.”

“We don’t have time for this,” I said. I ran upstairs for privacy. If Mom was having an attack, I didn’t want to parade it around in front of the others.

“Mom?” I said when I tapped in to the call.

“Danny? Oh my gosh, Danny, are you okay? I saw on the news…” Her breathing came in a wheeze. “They said… they said the border was closed. They’re not going to let me go home, Danny. They’re not going to let me come home. What are we gonna do?”

“Mom?” I tried.

“How are you gonna get by all alone? I’m all alone. When this conference is over, I can’t afford to keep paying for a hotel.”

“Mom.”

“Can’t afford an apartment.” She coughed. “They say you’ve all been ordered to federal duty. But if you go, they’ll arrest you, Danny. You can’t go. What if they don’t arrest you, but send you to war? They could stick you in Iran, Danny, and all those Idaho boys were killed there the other day.”

“Mom!”

“Oh, Danny!” There was a sound almost like retching.

“Mom, listen to me!”

“Oh. Oh, don’t yell at me, Danny. I don’t know what to do!”

“Shhhh. Mom, it’s okay. You’re okay. Breathe. Force the air in.” I heard her breathe, shaky, but deep. “Now exhale.” I could hear her breathing. There were little sobs, but we’d get this ironed out. “And breathe in, deep as you can. And let it fall out. Have a seat in the chair if you’ve got one there.”

We sat there like that on the phone, breathing, for about five minutes. I was out of time for debating my options. I had to make some decisions and I had to make them now.

“Danny.” She seemed calmer now. “What are we going to do?”

“Okay, I’m not going to report for federal service,” I said. That was the first decision I made.

“But then they’ll call you a criminal like the governor and—”

“They’re already calling me a criminal, but they can’t get in here to arrest me. So relax about that.”

“Oh, Danny.” She sounded like she was going to cry again. “Maybe I should rush home right now. Maybe I can make it across the border before the soldiers can really stop anyone from—”

“No, Mom. You know, stay in Washington for now. Carry on with your conference for the rest of the week. Anyway, this is probably going to blow over soon.” I squeezed my eyes closed, praying I wasn’t talking a lot of false-hope gibberish. “The government will get this mess straightened out in no time, and the president will at least have to let normal Idaho people come back home.”