x
"We're gonna make this country an insecure and inhospitable place for capitalists and their projects! We're gonna reclaim the roads and the plowed lands, halt dam construction, tear down existing dams, free captive rivers and return to the Earth tens of millions of acres of presently settled land----or die trying!"
There was thunderous applause from the First Marley Regiment, five thousand strong. The speaker, Colonel Matthew, in immaculate uniform, was the PDOE---People's Dominion of Ecotopia---liaison officer for the Northwest: Washington, Oregon, Idaho, and Montana. A lean man around five-foot-eight, a hundred and forty-five pounds, damn near all of it muscle. Matthew wasn't here to waste time. He held up his hands for silence.
"Now, I can tell you," he continued, "the showdown is coming. Everybody in the media, led by The New York Lies, are hollerin' for investigation of, and action against, the Movement. The showdown's coming 'tween each of us and the Federalists. State troopers ain't a problem---they know us and know better. And the sheriffs---we elect the sons-o'-bitches. They aren't going to mess with us."
This got the room clapping and the colonel going. "But the federals, my comrades, the federals are the capitalists' hound dogs. They ain't never gonna give up till we show 'em that we aren't to be messed with and that they can't stop the march of the downtrodden and dispossessed by arming the citizenry of the so-called United States. The Earth is the strength of common man, comrades, and nothing is mightier than the Earth!"
"Amen!" Now there was cheering, foot stomping, everyone in the room raising fisted right hands in salute. "Earth first! Earth first! Earth first!"
The colonel's arm rose again like a preacher before his congregation. "After seeing you boyos and your young'uns firing on your range, I'm not about to question your marksmanship. 'Tain't nothing wrong with that. If I was a Federalist and saw that...." He started strutting across the stage. "Mama, I'm goin' home as fast as I can."
This got a standing ovation and just plain hooting and hollering. The speaker held up his hands like Moses and they sat, hungry for more, for the Marleys were "terrans" in Ecotopian jargon, men who owned nothing, lived off the land, rejecting technology in all forms.
The colonel paused to acknowledge the response: "After the arrest of the Unabomber, whom we had nothing to do with, and the media blitz which the crew-cut conservatives thought would shake us, we've received more applications than ever before---and----hold it, now! Hold it!" He paused for effect. "We now have the financial resources to act if the Federalists attack!"
"Ya mean when the Federalists attack!"
"Ah stand corrected," the speaker acknowledged in his odd, happy accent, somewhat Southern but then sounding Northern too. "When the Federalists attack." He waited until they settled down.
"Comrades." He was speaking more slowly now. "You are among the finest trained Ecotopians I have ever had the honor to be associated with. You're well trained, well supplied, and well led." Matthew turned half left, acknowledging the other militia leaders, including Commander-in-Chief General Peace, all in combat fatigues, on the dais. He turned back to face the sea of white, black and brown faces. "You're better prepared than the Bolsheviks who overthrew the despot Tsar. But I have to impress upon you the need to follow orders---no matter how difficult or crazy they might seem at the time. After this conference, we're going to be on maneuvers all across the country. Now, I know you've been on maneuvers before, but never on this scale. This means that sometimes you're going to be in uniform a lot longer than you expected to be. And you'll be getting orders you think are nutty or don't make sense to you at the home level. But rest assured, it's all party of the strategic planning, and sometimes EHQ won't have time to draw you a diagram. You'll know soon enough." He looked across the room. "Any questions?"
"Colonel, is it strategic planning that we'll be reimbursed for any extra time we have to spend away from our lands?"
"Yes----you'll be fully compensated, all billing to be approved verbally by local Ecotopian commanders---no bills, receipts or taxes!"
"Groovy, man!"
Another hand rose in the air. "That's all fine and dandy, but what if we need to stay home, harvest our crops and can't get more time off?"
"You will."
"How d'you know? Some o' our wives are real peaceniks and might say no."
"We'll reimburse them?"
"What if she doesn't wanna help?"
"Then," said the colonel somberly, "she will be classified as a collaborator."
One Ecotopian told another, "If this isn't all bullshit, Nug, he's talking about a river of money."
"Well, Logan, there's one hell of a lot of Americans out there who don't like pollution, computerization, guns, the military, and being taxed blind to secretly support industries that foul up our air and water. But they can't say anything----they got families that need the money the companies pay 'em. Only way they can tell us how strongly they agree with us is to send us a few bucks. You got a lotta people out there fed up with the federal government wastin' our taxes on things like the damn-fool space program. Republicans, Democrats---all of 'em piggin' out at the tax trough."
Logan nodded right enough, but something was tugging at him. "Come the showdown, I hope there ain't no children killed."
"I agree with ya on that, Logan. Today's children are the citizens and nation-builders of tomorrow. If we win our war, the responsibilities we'll have towards securing their future are gonna be huge. We gotta give their health, education and overall development top priority in our policies and programs."
"Children could still die," Logan retorted.
"My granddaddy---he flew with the 8th Air Force in '44---says he must've killed hundreds of people---men, women, and kids. If push comes to shove, it's either you or them, Logan, that's what it'll boil down to. Like the colonel says, we've gotta turn this world around. 'Member what they say---you can't make an omelette without breaking eggs."151Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjQiWD61YFn
151Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡADDe8xPwSP
* * *
151Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7IRWkGCZSK
151Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFz1vDT0U7M
Colonel Matthew shook hands with new members, including Trent D'Arby, who lived as a recluse in a remote cabin without electricity or running water outside the Yakima Valley who was fed up with the commercial development of the wilderness surrounding his cabin and concluded that living in nature was becoming impossible. For this reason he resolved to fight industrialization and its destruction of nature. Finally Colonel Matthew shook hands with Colonel Tyler, CO of the Marleys. "'Course I didn't want to say anything to the men," Matthew told him, "but one of our problems at the moment is infiltration by FBI and Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms agents. Remember the drill, same for every Ecotopian in the country---find out who they are by selective leaks. It's extra work, I know, but it's got to be done. Root the bastards out. Goddamn capitalists!"151Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6vkxyJUMYs
Tyler winced. He was not used to such strong language from anyone, not even a comrade.
"Root 'em out," Matthew repeated.
"With extreme prejudice?" Tyler asked hesitantly.151Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtRffngFnpR
Matthew sensed his reticence. "No other way, Colonel." He was pulling his gloves on tightly, his voice a whisper now. "They're sellin' us out for thirty pieces of silver. Do what you have to."
"I understand," said Tyler. "I don't like it, but I guess..."
"That's right," Matthew cut in sharply. "Has to be done! Now!"
ns 15.158.61.7da2
