William Forstchen - One Year After

The radio was still on.

And Syracuse, New York, Administrative District Three, where there are reports of a rebellion and the murders by terrorists of over eighty troops of the ANR.

The administration repeated its announcement again today that the draft for the million-troop mobilization for the ANR is moving forward smoothly in most areas, cooperation with the draft being a factor in defining a district as not in rebellion, but it cautioned that those not in compliance will face the full authority of the law and appealed for those districts not yet reporting in to do so immediately. There has been no response of just how many administrative districts are in compliance so far.

In a surprise move, the administration also announced that it is rescinding for the moment the authorization to theater commanders of the ANR to use neutron bomb weapons within the continental United States, except when receiving a direct order and release by the administration.

The repeated queries by our embassy in Bluemont to respond to the rumor that the acting president was either forced to resign yesterday or has been removed from office have not been answered.

Again there was an eruption of comments. That news had exploded around the world early in the day. It was one of the reasons everyone listened to the shortwave edition of the BBC; few now trusted the Voice of America for anything other than a highly censored version of the news. The implications were profound. Had the administration that sent people like Fredericks out into the field collapsed? Was there a coup d’état taking place in Bluemont? If true, were they sliding into civil war, or could one hope that more reasonable heads were prevailing and the announcement of the pullback on the use of neutron bombs was a signal of serious change?

John kept his ear to the radio speaker, but there was no more news on that front, though there was an announcement of a discussion to ensue with various “experts” as to what might be transpiring in America.

The crowd settled down so that the radio could be heard again.

And for our friends in Hong Kong, “The sun is rising in the west.” I repeat, “The sun is rising in the west.” And now to our discussion about events transpiring in America today…

John nodded for the radio to be turned off.

“I wanted everyone here,” John announced, “representing the town council of Black Mountain, Montreat, and Swannanoa—along with our friends from Asheville and representatives from the group some called the Mount Mitchell Reivers—to gather together in one place, garner what news we can from the outside, and decide if we will henceforth move forward in mutual accord. This could go on for some time, perhaps most of the night. I guess I’m stuck with moderating, and I will ask that those representing different perspectives try to limit themselves to five minutes. Let’s work toward points of mutual agreement rather than tear each other apart. We have a rare chance here to settle issues that have divided us for far too long. Let’s bury them here and now.”

He looked around the room. “There is one issue I have to present to you first before we move on to other business, and I am afraid I’ll have to hold the floor for this one.”

All knew what he was about to raise and fell silent.

“It is impossible at the moment to raise Bluemont. The communications gear to do so was destroyed in the fight at the courthouse. It was undoubtedly on a secured scrambler, so we are in the dark there. I have tried to reach out to Greenville by radio, so far without success other than conversations between Maury and the chopper pilots. At least from that, those pilots know our situation, and Maury feels they just might disobey orders if directed to attack us. They have made no aggressive moves toward us yet. I pray it stays that way. If we cannot raise them within the next few days, I’m asking our friends who lived north of Mount Mitchell to head down toward Highlands, talk with the folks there, and see if they’ll honor letting a convoy with a team to visit Greenville to pass safely. Also, that will open up a conversation with folks in the southern mountains to consider joining in with us.”

There were nods of approval to that.

“What do you think Greenville will do?” someone in the back of the room asked.

“I can’t say for sure. We do know that when the fight was on in Asheville, they did send several attack choppers up, but they stopped while over Hendersonville and the Asheville airport, one of the pilots repeatedly asking for a decision as to whether to go in or not. They turned back about when their signal to the courthouse was lost. We do have the radio in the captured Black Hawk. Maury Hurt has raised one of their pilots several times, told him what happened here and why, and made it clear we had no desire to see any more Apaches up here and will react accordingly. I listened in and felt that the pilot Maury was talking to was of the same accord and less than happy with the prospect of turning his weapons, as he said, ‘on our own people.’ So I want to believe there are second thoughts down there, perhaps even at least an ‘administrator’ we can deal with in a friendly fashion.”

“Why not just fly someone down there in the Black Hawk or L-3 to negotiate a truce with them?” someone asked.

“I’ll not risk such precious assets outside our own territory for now,” John replied, and there were again nods of agreement.

“Once we get the road secured, I’ve asked Ernie Franklin to be the one to head the team going down.”

That did draw some comments, not all of them happy, but more than a few were laughing.

John smiled and held his hand up for silence. “We want straightforward, no-nonsense talk; Ernie is the man to deliver it straight from the shoulder. Do any of you disagree?”

Many turned to look at Ernie, who smiled and then finally replied, “You’re just trying to get me the hell away from these meetings.”

“Maybe so,” John replied, and there was a round of laughter and then applause. “So that is the situation with Greenville and Bluemont. Are we in general accord to try to reach out to Greenville and ensure no aggressive action will be taken against us?”

His question was greeted with approval.

“But until we have a clear answer, at least from Greenville, the military is to stay on full alert, dispersal of population and assets against air attack to stay in place. You all know the mobilization alarms; if you hear them, act immediately.” He sighed. “And let’s pray the war is over. So with that said, I open the floor for comments.”

For a man who hated meetings, this one, illuminated by candlelight, had something of a different feel. The illumination, the rather sacred nature of the room actually called Fellowship Hall, triggered the historian in him. Perhaps it was a touch of the romantic in looking at it in such a way, but he could not help it as person after person stood to speak, appealing for a joining together, to set aside past differences and even expressing the optimism of expanding their reach to all the mountain communities of western North Carolina.

By midnight, there was a near consensus to have a charter drawn up for the various representatives to sign, and for the moment, John would be tasked as an emergency commander, but any actions regarding life or limb of a citizen or relations with communities outside their own would be referred to a council made up of representatives from each of the communities.

The establishment of an actual elected government was then brought up, and it was decided that, this time, they would indeed take a census of all those over eighteen, identifications would be issued, and in one month’s time, elections would be held for all posts.