The Balancing Act

Linda Stewart rode the big boned gelding well, but the horse was young and the trail had been torn up by many horses and machines over the last week or so. Coming over the last ridge, the horse plunged ahead too fast and slipped in the algae smeared verge of the lake, going to his knees and throwing Linda face down into the mud. With a mighty heave and snort, he regained his feet and managed not to step on his mistress. His reins trailing, he answered his training and stood by her side, gingerly lifting first one and then the other foreleg as if testing for damage.

The men working on the valves against the far shore couldn't have reached her in half an hour, but the team that had been setting up the booby traps along the foothills was just coming down to the staging area where their own horses were tied.

Bill, in front of the group, ran to Linda and helped her to sit up, manfully suppressing the urge to laugh at the state of her face and clothing. She could have been hurt badly, of course, but seeing that she was unharmed it did look funny. Taking a handkerchief out of his pocket, and making sure it was clean first, he dampened it in the lake and attempted to help her wipe off some of the mud. He had to keep pushing the playful horse's head out of the way, and finally just burst out laughing.

At the same moment, Linda got the mud out of her eyes enough to see him grinning at her and was immediately furious! Of course, she didn't realize that she was actually angry with herself for not controlling the horse better... it was much easier to take umbrage at the cowboy who had come to her rescue.

"Are you laughing at me, you big galoot?" she growled. Floundering in the mud, she refused to take his hand and almost fell into the water itself before Bill grabbed her arm and helped her to stand. Shaking off his hand, she staggered to the dry portion of the trail and ineffectively attempted to brush the wet, sticky mud off her jeans and shirt. The tears quickly washed the last of the mud from her eyes, but the fact that she was crying just seemed to make her more upset and angry.

Still smiling, Bill backed off and bent to examine the colt's knees. The horse then rubbed more of the mud and water on his own muzzle and neck all over Bill's shirt and hat. "Danged Wyoming mud," Bill muttered, glad to find the horse had not come to any more harm than his rider. "What a mess."

Shady, the horse, stepped into the water itself and took a long drink. That got rid of at least some of the mud on him, but there was no such easy fix for the lady's condition. The other men tried to help her scrap it off, but she eventually waved them off and asked if Bradshaw was anywhere around.

"He's with the bunch up at the springs," George said. "You need to talk to him?"

"Betty sent me," Linda replied. "There is an urgent message from someone on the radio thing. She said it's from someone named Luke."

One of the older men came to full attention at that, and swung up on the horse immediately. He was away and at a full lope along the better part of the uphill trail by the time Linda shouted her objection. Bill and the others turned to get their own mounts, and someone helped Linda get astride the horse the other man had been riding. They had actually finished their job up there for the day, and were eager to get back to the ranch - as much to learn the news as to get cleaned up and ready for supper.

Bill rode behind Linda, doing a little cowboy daydreaming about her pretty face and independent spirit. He found himself very pleasantly attracted and wondered just how he could get close to her again.

****
Roger came out of the radio room with a grim expression on his face. The common room was packed, almost filling the dining room as well. Others looked in from the kitchen across the serving counter. Nobody said anything, and it was evident they were braced for bad news.

Charlie and Bill didn't think anything could really surprise them... The other shoe was about to fall.

"As most of you know," Roger began, "we've been in constant communication with Luke out in Nebraska, as well as others across the country. We've gotten reports from a few people along the Mississippi this last year, but none of the ham stations east of that have answered for at least 6 months. We have heard nothing out of California or the southwest for at least that long. Oregon has a few stations, but Washington has been silent for several months as well. The old British Columbia and Alberta stations are alive and well, but there's nothing out of central or eastern Canada either."

"To the best of my knowledge, there has been no functioning Federal Government since the crash, but we all know that a great many of the old administration and their favorite backers had bunkers and other means of survival. There was a large military/industrial complex entrenched in the Colorado mountains, but there has been no sign of them - until now."

Roger already had their full attention, but his last words brought many to their feet, and a low murmur of protest broke the former silence.

"We've had major news in the last few hours," he continued when the room fell silent again. "Luke says he's received reports from Mississippi and Arkansas about heavy troop movement west into Louisiana and Texas. Nobody seems to know for sure where they came from or just who is in control, but it is clear that they are a mixed national, mercenary army. Their purpose seems to be conquest and occupation. Reports are clear that they are "living off the land," and pretty much destroying what they can't use or carry. It's the pattern followed by invaders and governments since the dawn of time."

Only shocked silence met this news, so he went on.

"The really interesting part is that a similar, if smaller, group has appeared in Colorado. They are reported to be mixed regular army and national guard, but not terribly well organized. We are getting a recorded broadcast from a ham station that does not identify itself. It seems to move around, but may not be able to avoid contact with the bandits for long. The message indicates that this second group is moving south and east - at least for now."

Brief conversations erupted around the room, and those in the dining room pressed close to the doorway to hear better.

"So," he continued after the buzz quieted, "there are several possibilities. Obviously, the best for us would be a conflict between these two armies. It would weaken both of them and the people of those states might be able to eliminate the rest. But they may join together instead, of course, and that would be very bad for the south and, eventually, for everyone else. We don't know how well they are armed, where they came from, who is leading them, or what their actual goals are. I'll do my best to learn as much as possible, as soon as possible - but we may never know all of it."

In the meantime, what we can and MUST do is get ready to defend ourselves. We also have to decide how many more of the people from the towns south of here should join us. My old buddy Bob and his men are all ready to roll and should be here within a few days. There are quite a few ready to come from the town out east where the refinery is, and they'll be bringing fuel. We've got to get as much in place as possible before winter, of course, but we can be mighty grateful for the coming cold and snow because it will give us precious time. By spring we will know much better what to expect, but we'd better be ready for anything."

Just then the shift change guards from the perimeter came in, and there was lively discussion all around as they heard the news and lent their ideas to the speculation and brainstorming going on. Roger retreated to the radio room again, and Betty found her cousin Sam with him there. They had been having more and more disagreements about the number of people coming in, and Sam's face was red with anger.

Roger gave up the idea of listening more to the radio then, and asked Betty to monitor it while he held a conference with the elders and leaders of the community. The word passed quickly through the crowd, now beginning to thin as people left for their own quarters, and the big room was eventually clear except for the ranch council.

Sam didn't even wait for everyone to be seated before he began his usual rant about too many people, coming in too fast. He was genuinely concerned about the balance of the population with the resources, always wanting to err on the side of excess resources. He was never really willing to admit that those who came now always brought more materials and talent than they consumed, seeming only to remember the first frantic days when most of them had arrived with little more than the clothes on their backs.

Everyone listened politely, but meaningful looks passed between many of them. They had heard this before, and had answered his complaints often - both in council and in private. His status as an elder and an original settler gave him the benefit of the doubt and a patient hearing, but it was wearing thin.

"What do you suggest instead, Sam?" said Justis. He was the oldest among them and, usually, the only one Sam would listen to. Justis sat back and combed his long beard with his fingers, his eyes gentle but firm on the younger man.

Sam looked around at the patient but unrelenting faces around him. He knew he didn't have any real answers either, and he was man enough to admit it -  he just didn't have to like it. His shoulders slumped and he put his hands flat on the table in defeat, enduring the grins of a few. He knew he'd have to come up with more than vague dissatisfaction if he wanted to be heard again in this council.

Roger cleared his throat, deftly regaining control of the meeting. He asked for and received a report from each section chief. After discussing some of the problems, they decided that the first order of business for the following few weeks was the construction of more housing and storage facilities. As many men as could be spared would prepare building sites in the gentle foothills above them. A crew would go to haul up the mobile homes that they had already traded for, and attempt to obtain more of them. Bob and his men would be security for that operation, so Roger and his men could concentrate on finishing the guard posts and booby traps on the northern edge of their territory, as well as complete the placement of the valves on the artesian springs in the lake valley.

The harvest was almost done, and the butchering would start as soon as it got cold enough. With more people coming, they could also do enough hunting to put plenty of meat into storage for the winter and spring. They agreed that an expansion to the northeast would be imperative next year or they would have to find another source for grain and grazing for their livestock. The original valley was filling up, but the settlement to the east had plenty of land and few people. They all hoped it could be worked out for everyone's benefit.

After the council broke up, Roger returned to the radio room and found Betty smiling. Intrigued, he sat down beside her to hear what she had learned from the radio.

Next: All's Fair in Love and War