Reconquest: Mother Earth

Chapter XI

Chapter XI

Mitch stayed inside, not wanting to be part of the spectacle. He took the opportunity to get in a strenuous workout at the hotel gym. It felt good to be hitting the weights and treadmill again. He could hardly believe that killing the sweeper provoked this kind of reaction. It seemed to have awoken the spirits of the people of New Las Vegas.  

Ginger remained with him while people paraded outside. They were carrying the dead sweeper on a platform down the Strip while a band played. People were dressed in costumes. Euphoria had spread like a brushfire.  

After finishing the workout, Ginger asked, "Sure you want to stay inside? You're the man of the hour." 

"I'm positive," Mitch said.  

"What you did was a big deal." 

"Killing one alien won't make any difference in the grand scheme of things. I'm not going to be satisfied until each and every one of them is gone." 

"It is a big deal," Ginger insisted. "You've given us hope. You made us believe that we can stand up to the sweepers." 

"Or maybe I just made them angry. Next time there might be twice as many." 

"No one knows what's going to happen in the future, Sugar, but you've given everybody a great feeling, and that's a good thing." 

He tried to be gracious, but the parade was too much. He thought it wrong to carry a dead alien on a platform and celebrate like they had won a war.  

***

Later that evening, after the celebration, Sam Arcuri invited Mitch and Ginger to a private guestroom in the casino. Mitch stared at the room's lavish decorations, furnished with a massive chandelier, paintings, Persian rugs, and fine crystal. Plush velvet chairs surrounded the mahogany table. Sam introduced him to representatives of each of the casinos in New Las Vegas. The various casino owners showered Mitch with gifts, giving him cigars, clothes, an iPod, radios, even a sword. Sam and Ron had the head chef prepare him a steak and lobster dinner, and had brought a special bottle of champagne for the occasion. Mitch was uncomfortable with the gifts and praise. When he was in the SEALs, his missions had been top secret, and his medals given in private.  

Sam asked him to take a seat. "I know you're new in town and still feeling your way around, but you've made a definite impression on us, and we're thankful to have you here. Look, I'm not going to lie to you. I've done pretty well for myself here in New Las Vegas, but I'm not foolish enough to think that things can't be better. Getting more law and order, and becoming more organized would benefit everyone here, myself included. That's the one thing missing that could return Vegas to being a first class destination. That's why we want you to stay and take charge of this town. You can call yourself the sheriff, the mayor, governor, whatever title you want. Makes no difference to us. The bottom line is that we want you in charge." 

Mitch raised his brows. "Sam, that's a generous offer, but you hardly know me. And I just met the other folks. How could you possibly know I'd be an effective leader?" 

Sam smiled. "Because you've shown incredible courage and decisiveness." 

"I'll be honest, I don't like what this place has become." Murmurs came from the crowd. Mitch proceeded, not caring who he offended. "I have a problem with the general lawlessness around here. You have people killing each other over card games. You have sweepers abducting people. You got strippers, prostitutes and every form of debauchery. No offense to you, Ginger. I know you're trying to get by, and I fully understand that. After we've lost everything, it just seems frivolous. Millions of people are working as slaves for the aliens, yet here you people are, yucking it up and having a good time, like nothing's changed. It has, from now until forever. I'm sure your intentions are good, but what's happening here just isn't right."