He had been asked to film some promotional videos about the rights and duties of the Faithful and every citizen, however common, being able to achieve greatness according to the Truth and the grace of the Benevolent States United.
McComb explained that as long as he was being used as a public relations tool, Junior should be safe.
Nonetheless, as the shuttle cut through the atmosphere of Earth Prime and circled downwards towards the estate in the
"Junior," McComb said, repeating the litany he had started before they had even chosen the destination, "Those pictures you have may be old. The estate could be overgrown by now. Or worse."
"I know, McComb," Junior replied, "I still need to see it."
The shuttle landed in the center of the front clearing with a slight bump. The hatch slid open and the ramp extended slowly.
Junior, Dank and Trixie May stepped out and onto the dull brown lawn with McComb following a few steps behind.
"Is it winter?" Dank asked, surveying the barren seeming landscape.
"No," McComb replied, "Middle of summer."
"Why does it look . . . " Junior began.
"Burned?" Trixie May finished.
"This area has been empty for quite some time," McComb answered, "I doubt Stevens ever visited here, or even his father."
"Why not?" Dank asked.
"This part of the world was pretty badly devastated during and after the last war. The whole area was a radioactive hot zone for years and there are probably still anti-personnel devices in place around the county side."
"Like what?" Trixie May asked.
"Some mines, possibly, but most of those accepted the disarm signal sent at the end of the war," McComb replied, "Possibly some bacterial or even viral packets lying dormant until the proper conditions arise." He led them down hill into the woods along an old road which had been almost completely reclaimed by the forest.
"That sounds nasty," Dank shuddered.
Junior saw a fence running along the edge of the road along one side, "Does that mark the edge of the property?" he asked, consulting his digital map.
"That is more anti-personnel equipment," McComb clarified, "Velcro wire."
"Like barbed wire but less destructive?" Trixie May asked.
"Ah," McComb smiled ruefully, "Actually, no. When velcro wire encounters flesh it sends three or four spikes in and back out through a curving pattern that hooks the skin firmly. Anyone caught needs a Benevolent States United surgeon to cut the spikes out," he gestured to a tattered chunk of something stuck to the wire, "If they want to keep that flesh, anyway. Barbed wire doesn't actually have a barb, velcro wire does."
"Why is there still flesh stuck to this fence?" Junior asked, "I thought the war ended centuries ago."
"It did," McComb replied, "But the fighting continues. Every day armed members of the Un-Faithful militia attack Benevolent States United strongholds all over the surface of Earth Prime. It is part of the reason, if you ask me, that the BSU has such a hard time seeing to the needs of the Faithful."
"Can't they just take care of themselves?" Dank asked.
"Some can, certainly," McComb agreed, "But the Truth puts the responsibility on the back of the Benevolent States United."
"Sounds nice on the outside," Dank offered, "But it puts the people in the debt of the government, don't it."
"That it does, Dank," McComb agreed, "That it does."
Chapter Thirty Eight Interlude
File: Datanet Core Server Gamma Delta Twenty Four, Earth Prime Culture, Era: Modern -0, Index Entertainment, Data Compiled by Public Survey and Interviews and Popular Broadcast Feeds
The Faithful of Earth Prime enjoy many types of entertainment. In addition to popular sporting events like baseball and low-gravity football, armored mechanized combat is extremely popular.
In these events, participants are given a time limit to disable or destroy an opponent's armored suit using a combination of long range and short range (close combat) weapons.
After undergoing a rigorous test, approved mechanized combat suits and their pilots are pitted against one another in both olympic-style events and professional matches for those pilots who distinguish themselves through merit, skill or ferocity.
Actual death is rare in these events, but accidents sometimes happen. It is well worth the risks to most participants, who enjoy fame and wealth as a result of their hard work. The Benevolent States United closely monitors all sporting events to ensure their safety and adherence to the Fair-Play laws of the fourteenth congressional session.
After changing out of his Earth Prime Protection Force uniform, Junior insisted that the group visit the nearest town to partake of the local culture, although McComb insisted that more disappointment awaited them there.
The small nearby community contained a few small houses, some farms, a gift shop, a government office (more of a bunker, actually, with three foot thick steel walls and a velcro wire fence) and a tavern, which thrilled Dank almost to the point of tears.
When they entered the tavern, they were not greeted with the familiar cloud of artificial cigarette smoke, but a sight which confused the EcoHope 11 natives.
The tavern was almost empty. There were a few patrons seated at small tables around the open front room. The room itself contained these small circular tables, benches for seating, a small artificial fire and a Benevolent States United certified and maintained ordering machine.
Junior swiped his access badge and scrolled through the menu looking for beer, which he did not find.
In the end, he settled for four orders of lentil soup and four cups of water.
A very subdued man in plain linen clothes delivered the order to their table a few minutes later without a word. While the soup was warm and fresh, it was decidedly low on flavor. The group ate in relative silence, listening to the quiet hum of conversation around them.
After some time, a man stood up and walked to the artificial fire in the corner and began to speak to the crowd. He was an older gentleman, with gray hair just beginning to show itself on his head and beard. He had the lean build of a farmer and his face was creased with wrinkles from long years in the sun.
"Gather round and hear the story of how things were, my friends," he began. Obediently, people fell silent and swiveled on their benches. Spoons came to rest in bowls and mugs were set down quietly and immediately.
"In the old days, men worked these fields just as you and I do today. But in those days, they sold their crops to whoever would buy them, and kept enough to feed their families. Men also hunted in the forest before that became Un-Faithful and they brought home animals to further nourish their families and communities.
"Trees were felled to build homes and clothing in any color could be bought in stores owned by their neighbors, at a fair price.
"Men had a government then, too, but it seemed much farther away than ours today. They paid taxes and enlisted in the military by choice more often than by draft, and wars were fought to protect that way of life with the idea that things would be better for us and those that came after them.
"Unfortunately, those men lost that war in the end. And our freedoms and way of life was the main casualty of it.
"Today," he continued, "All we have are memories of better times and what provisions the government provides for us. We are as surely slaves as any race in history, and we have been denied the ability to fight back through regulations and laws and the right of protection the BSU has claimed."
He stopped for a moment, scanning the crowd and the newcomers closely before continuing.
"It is our duty to remember the times before, and to do what we can to see their return. The war is over and has been for longer than anyone here has been alive, but the struggle continues."
He raised his arm defiantly and Junior took note of the old deep scar that seemed to have been scooped out of his tricep.
"Velcro wire," Junior said under his breath to Trixie May.
The few patrons in the tavern clapped politely, having obviously heard the speech many times previously.
Before Junior could do anything to stop it, Dank stood up whistling and clapping furiously.
The last thing Junior wanted was attention called to them, but it was already far too late.
