Chapter 26
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Having a baby is hard, particularly for those of us who actually give birth. Leah had warned me about this, but there was really no way to prepare for labor. Taking care of a newborn is also difficult. At least with this one David was able to help out. But there were certain aspects a male, even an alien male, can't do, in particular breast-feeding. Still, I was grateful when David helped with changing diapers, bathing little Abe, and so forth. The hospital was still pretty busy, so I only had one week of maternity leave. We took turns working days at the hospital, making sure the baby always had someone watching him. Leah helped with that as well. It's amazing how a woman whose had her own baby can get so excited about another woman's baby. One thing David did that annoyed me. Some days, when he worked and I took care of little Abe, he would come home a little late, with beer on his breath. David said he wanted to help out, he just wanted to spend a few minutes with his friends and have one drink. This annoyed me, particularly since I couldn't drink while I was still breast-feeding. In early November the voting began for the presidential election. Noone was surprised when the winner wasn't decided the night of November 6th. It took a week to collect all the votes, another week to count them. Noone called it, nobody wanted a repeat of "Dewey defeats Truman." Most of St Louis was supporting Gardner, including myself. Finally, on November 21st, Gardner was declared the winner.
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November 22nd was Thanksgiving, and we had much to be grateful for this year. Me and David had our baby, and the new president was promising peace. This was not to say things suddenly became perfect. The war was still going on, food was still rationed, David and me had to work on Thanksgiving. But we were able to enjoy a little dinner with Leah and Noah. We felt like a real family, for all intents and purposes we were.
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President Walker did concede, but he made no real efforts at peace talks in his final two months in office. I guess he figured that the war would be Gardner's problem, let him worry about it. And there were those who did not want peace. One was a man named Sherman. During the war Sherman had been reprimanded by his own superiors for executing aliens who tried to surrender to him. He was assigned to set up a food distribution center and housing facilities for human refugees. But, on his own authority, the price of admission was steep. Those seeking admittance were handed a bayonet, and told to come back the the freshly cut head of an alien. Some came back with the heads of jewish humans, and Sherman was fine with that. Those who refused or could not bring themselves to pay such a price died off. Sherman let them die, saying that their deaths would only improve their race. After this Sherman was dishonorably discharged and barely escaped before he could be charged with war crimes. Now, Sherman had a number of followers who liked his ideas on racial purity. With the end of the war in sight they wanted to wipe out as many aliens and "half-breeds" as possible. They were marching towards St Louis, wanted to wipe us out for being so tolerant. I went back to Coulson, asked for his assistance in protecting the city. Coulson refused. He said his main priority was to keep him men alive, he wouldn't go looking for trouble. I guess I can't blame him, the war had already been going on for a year longer than expected, had cost a billion lives more than originally expected. It was up to us, our local militias, to defend the city. It had been only two months since I gave birth, not an ideal time to be training with a militia. But I had made a promise to my baby, to do whatever I had to do to keep him safe.
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Ishmael was the leader of our militia. He reminded us what was at stake, the lives of our families, our children. That motivated us. There were a fair amount of veterans, from both sides of the war. Like the militia I had served with in Milwaukee, we were more concerned with protecting our families than the war itself. In late December our scouts had learned that Sherman was being supplied with weapons from my old friend John Galt. I told Ishmael what I knew of him, which wasn't much. Apparently he was just a mercenary, selling to whomever was willing to pay. I didn't know where Sherman got the money for these weapons, I later found out he had wealthy friends who shared his racist views. Ishmael asked if I might be able to "Persuade" John Galt to sell us these weapons instead. Jokingly I asked if he wanted me to wag my tail at him. But Ishmael was completely serious when he said "Sarah, he has superior weapons. If we can't get these weapons, he will slaughter many of our families, possibly your son. So if you think it will work, by all means have sex with him and seduce him to our side." I can't blame Ishmael for this. It was war, we were all in danger of annihilation. I felt bad about cheating on David, but remember my promise to little Abe. I also remembered horror stories of high ranking officers, who had multiple sexual partners. Sometimes these partners came more or less willingly, had sex for more food rations. Leah said that if Sherman or his officers tried to take her, she would sooner blow her brains out. Still, if it had been to protect Noah, she would have done the same. I had a relationship with John Galt, David never asked questions. I had real feelings for John, and it worked. He diverted his shipment, made sure our militias got these weapons instead of Sherman's "army." John planned to flee before Sherman reached St Louis, asked me if I wanted to come with him. I thought about that, the thought of taking little Abe to safety was mighty tempting. I knew he would only take the two of us, leaving David, Leah, Noah behind. I asked if I could bring little Abe, he said he only had room for the two of us. Had he agreed to let me take my baby, my answer might have been different. But I stayed, ready to fight and possibly die for the sake of my son.
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There was a conspiracy theory at the time. That Sherman was not actually rogue, that he and other generals were secretly following orders from president Walker. I was actually hoping it was true. With January 20th approaching, president Gardner would then be able to call off Sherman and the others. Sherman and his forces began their attack the night of January 18th. We fought well. Even when we had to ration our artillery, we just aimed more carefully. It might seem stupid in hindsight, but we were counting the hours until Gardner was sworn in. But 12pm on January 20th came, and Sherman still kept attacking. They were the fanatics, however cold and hungry they were they refused to surrender, all they cared about was slaughtering as many of us as possible. On that front they did succeed, I'm sorry to say. I remember a 15 year old kid, he looked up to Ishmael like a big brother, he was killed by one of Sherman's shells. He didn't die right away, he was in great pain in his final moments, begging to be killed. He was dead before the medics got him to the hospital. Sherman even attacked a field hospital, captured about 30 humans. They released them, after cutting off their right arms. Most died shortly after, but I know at least one survived and had a prosthetic arm for the rest of his life. By the 23rd Sherman and most of his "army" were dead, only a few straglers who were either too sick or too stupid to retreat. The militias launched our remaining shells at them, I was among those sent to their camp after. These people had shown that they were more interested in killing that their own survival. Had they been taken to our hospitals, even if peace were declared, who knew what they might do. We had no intention of giving help to whoever was still alive, just to put them out of their misery. They had tried to slaughter my loved ones, my son, just for being part alien. At the time I felt no guilt about slaughtering their wounded, but after I would have nightmares. One more memory that I would try to drink away in the years to come.