She dropped to the ground. So did everybody around her. But then other people came running down the aisle. And these other people were just normal, everyday Raleigh citizens, yet they had wild looks in their eyes and guns in their hands, and two of them came up to her grocery cart and emptied its contents into garbage bags.
“Hey! That’s my stuff!”
“Lady, it’s every man for himself.”
They took everything.
But as they ran away, a hole developed in their bag.
Prunes. Salt. Pork chops. They were hers, but the people in front of her snatched them up. More gunshots. Some screaming. And sirens outside.
At least she still had Hanna’s drugs—and that’s what she had really come for anyway.
Glenda got home halfway through the president’s speech—she didn’t tell the kids about the looting because she didn’t want to upset them—and caught bits and pieces of it as she got supper started in the kitchen.
“The United States and its allies view the shroud as a blatant act of aggression,” Bayard was saying.
“Despite our repeated attempts to open high-level diplomatic channels with the Tarsalan delegation to protest the shroud, all such attempts have failed. The Tarsalans say through their junior staff that until their immigration demands are met the shroud will remain in place. A lot of you have come to the conclusion that, should the shroud block out the light of the sun, it might have a direct and drastic effect, in the short term, on food supply, in particular on our crops next year. This is an unreasonable fear, and I can assure the American people that we have the situation well in hand. In spite of this, some of our citizens feel they must resort to civil disorder.”
Glenda listened more closely.
“We’ve already seen numerous instances of looting. Let me assure you, my fellow Americans, and especially those of you who feel you must participate in this unlawfulness, there’s absolutely no call for criminal activity. I warn you now—looters will be dealt with harshly.” He raised his hands in a calming manner. “I can only say this to people who feel they must loot—everyone will be fed. Our response to this emergency has been quick and appropriate. What have we done? For starters, I’ve asked state governors to mobilize and make ready their various relief agencies. I’ve ordered my chief administrators at FEMA to study the feasibility of implementing contingency rationing plans on a nationwide basis, and have empowered the military to take control of and administer the commercial food-distribution system when and if it is deemed necessary. I’ve asked the National Science Foundation to make a full and complete study of the shroud. If we can dismantle the shroud in any reasonable time frame, my experts in the Department of Agriculture believe we’ll still have our crops next year, and the food pressure will be off. So while we might have to tighten our belts in the short term, I believe in the long term we don’t face any real, serious food shortage. I urge calm, and vow to you that your government, and governments all over the world, are working hard to solve this problem. I urge civic responsibility. I urge you to support your government—and your neighbor—any way you can.”
Bayard gripped both sides of the lectern, and a conciliatory smile came to his face.
“And I especially appeal to those of you who are Secessionist Movement supporters, and I know there are a good many of you. Now is not the time to think of splitting up the country. Now is the time to show solidarity in the face of what is turning into a considerable national emergency. I know that in at least three states, Secessionist referendums have been proposed for the November election period. I would ask that supporters of these referendums put any and all such campaigns on hold for the time being. I would ask that we pull together and beat this thing as fellow countrymen. The color of your vote doesn’t matter. Red or blue, we all have to stand together.”
He let go of the lectern and squared his shoulders.
“In the meantime, the toughest decision your president faces is how to respond to this blatant act of aggression by the Tarsalans. Right from the start, we knew they were asking for immigration rights. They told us that they were a peaceful people and that they desired to conduct senior negotiations with us in regard to the possibility of immigration. This was reasonable. It was practical. And it promised mutual betterment to both our peoples. We in the United States have always understood immigration. We all come from immigrant ancestry. But we also understand that an immigration policy must be managed. It has to be based on common sense and sustainability. We know that to flood our shores with an uncontrolled influx of immigrants would not only be detrimental to the existing inhabitants, but also to the immigrants themselves. So we offered controlled immigration to selected islands in the South Pacific, with strict quotas on reproduction. That’s when we learned their demands were unreasonable. They requested unlimited immigration anywhere in the world, with the right to decide their own birth policies. In the last nine years there have been a series of offers and counteroffers, and still the two sides remain significantly polarized. Now the Tarsalans have withdrawn from negotiations, and have mounted this shroud around the Earth. They’ve given us an ultimatum. Let me make this clear. The United States won’t tolerate ultimatums, and will never give in to blackmail.
“And so I’ve had to make the toughest decision of my presidency. At twelve-thirty p.m., Eastern Daylight Time, today, I put the U.S. military on highest alert. I’ve sent a final message to the Tarsalans.
This message is a counterultimatum. Dismantle the shroud within forty-eight hours or the United States and its allies will bring to bear against the Tarsalan mothership and its other deployed craft the full might of the world’s military forces. So far the Tarsalans haven’t responded. But I think this message has sent to them a firm comprehension of just where we stand. The United States and its allies will not be dictated to. And we will not have our sovereignty challenged. And if they don’t dismantle the shroud, war shall and will be declared.”
By this time Glenda was gripping the edge of the dining room table with white-knuckled hands. Her mouth had gone dry and her palms were moist. Wasn’t it bad enough that they should have the shroud around the Earth? Wouldn’t it make things far worse to go to war with the Tarsalans? Yet she could see the president’s point. They couldn’t let the Tarsalans push them around.
“Mom, are the Tarsalans going to bomb us?” asked Jake.
“I don’t know, sweetie.”
“They probably won’t bomb here,” said Hanna. “Old Hill is the most boring place in the world.”
“I don’t see why we don’t let them live anywhere they want,” said Jake. “It’s a free country. I wouldn’t mind having one for a neighbor. I’ve only ever met Kafis at Uncle Neil’s, and I’d like to meet a few more. I don’t know why the president doesn’t put out the welcome mat.”
“Because they overbreed, stupid. They have four babies at a time.”
“Hanna, don’t call your brother stupid. And we don’t know that they would overbreed. Yes, it’s true they have four babies at a time, but everything I’ve read says they’ve really embraced birth control.”
“But Mom,” said Hanna, “they can tell us anything they want about what they do back on their homeworld, and we have no way of checking it out. I talked to Uncle Neil about it last Christmas. He says we can’t verify anything about the way they do things on their homeworld, and that if we open the door to them, we could find ourselves in real trouble.”