"Has the whole world gone mad?"
It had been four years since Slippery Sam's arrest. Now, his daughter found herself scanning the news report on 'her' PDA with dismay. A free-for-all at the UN had global tensions running higher than ever. President Polk was prepared to sign an executive order expanding the draft in preparation for another world war. As if three hadn't been enough already!
The draft already in effect had nicely thinned overcrowded prisons by forcing all nonviolent convicts into some branch of the military. It had been going on for so long that most nonviolent convicts never saw prison at all. 'Belle Sprite' often wondered how her father was faring in the military.
Life without Sam had been a real test of her abilities but Belle was doing just fine. She ate the finest food- after the restaurant was closed, of course- and wore decent clothing. Her fashion tastes were simple but always of quality cloth.
The expanded draft made it even more important for Belle to remain clean, or at least not under arrest, since the expansion would include everyone with no proof of secondary education and gainful employment. In other words, without a formal high school diploma and wage statements, Belle was a prime candidate to be drafted.
The ever-present war loomed larger as the government scrambled to find soldiers. Anyone arrested without proper documentation was placed into the nearest military training facility. Belle soon found herself forced deeper and deeper into the shadows and away from the best places to ply her trade in order to avoid arrest.
It was becoming too risky to pick pockets anyway, especially when she was capable of rendering any lock, electronic or otherwise, as useless as if it weren't even there. Things could have continued in this vein indefinitely, had the aliens not arrived.
~~~
No one would ever forget the day when humans discovered that life definitely existed beyond their own solar system. A great fleet of ships of varying size, all shaped like aluminum cigar tubes and looking as if they'd escaped from a low-budget movie, arrived just beyond the moon and clustered there, coming a few at a time to hover over the earth. The giant cigar tubes had disgorged little antacid-shaped crafts with big attitude and piloted by beings vaguely humanoid, though off-white in color and elongated to resemble a child's stick-figure drawing.
Some wag in a government office somewhere was overheard to comment on the resemblance the beings held to a bowl full of spaghetti and the name stuck. The aliens became known over the entire earth as "Spaghetti men" and their space crafts were promptly dubbed "pasta plates." It would have been hard to take them seriously had the animated spaghetti-noodle people not been so bent on conquest. Italian cuisine and Asian noodles became popular fare at state dinners after the pasta-plate ships were discovered to contain a weapon most devastating.
The first nation to taste that weapon was in Southeast Asia. It so happened that some of the pasta-plate ships took up a position over the Great Wall of China just before the Chinese New Year, in order to deliver an ultimatum to that nation. Unfortunately, the government failed to notify its people of the threat before the start of the celebration and the Spaghetti men misunderstood the meaning of the multitude of rockets, fireworks and parades displayed the following day.
At first, those under the ships noticed that the day had grown unseasonably hot and took shelter. Just over an hour later, banners and paper lanterns left out seemed to spontaneously combust and burned under the intense heat of the alien weapons. The heat took three hours to build but at its peak, melted entire sections of the wall into sheets of lava. Thus, the Great Wall, having stood unbroken for millennia, became a display of the power contained in that alien technology.
The Chinese Air Force was called out to attack the ships and managed to shoot one down before the remaining Pasta-plates fled beyond the reach of the earth-bound planes. Boarding the fallen ship, the Chinese people discovered that the Spaghetti men could never be taken prisoner because outside of their ships. Their fragile bodies couldn't survive Earth's gravity.
With this discovery, the people of Earth were left to wonder why the invaders were so intent on invading, if they couldn't even survive in the atmosphere of the planet they were trying to overtake.
Having maintained friendly relations with the EU and the UA, China called for aid from both. EU answered the call immediately, since the Great Wall had been the border between the two nations and half of the lava sheets generated by the attack on the Wall had destroyed thousands of acres belonging to the EU. The UA sent aid in the form of financial aid and goods to help in the rebuilding.
Between the EU and the UA however, tensions remained high. Sarah watched the unfolding events from the opposite side of the world with disinterest, save that certain Chinese-made goods became much more valuable as spare parts and began her own "salvage operation." Sarah's entrepreneurial efforts showed quite a profit during that time.
The Spaghetti men, pleased with the success of their weapon in China, sent another ship to hover over Shanghai but it was immediately shot down and another that entered into the atmosphere over the Atlantic Ocean fell victim to the UA's missile defense system. The human beings had figured out that it took time for the spaghetti-men to get their weapons up to the hottest frequency and that it was imperative to attack the attackers before the pasta-plates' weapons could charge.
Learning quickly, the Spaghetti men began to target military bases until it had forced most of China's military to conceal itself piecemeal in civilian buildings. Seeing the effectiveness of that strategy, the UA followed suit and managed to abandon most of its military bases.
Once again, the UA tightened control of its citizens until Belle was forced into hiding most of the time. She began to sleep only short periods during the day and to work at night entirely, learning to use the darkness and deep shadow to her best advantage. Slowly, Belle learned to move with such stealth as to be nearly invisible.
She learned to blend in with the night life as she discovered that all the places that she and Sam had avoided for so long were actually the best places to ply her trade. As long as she could get into a pub or a nightclub, Belle could earn a relatively decent living stealing from the drunk and distracted people that went there for a good time.
Another change came without warning, forcing Belle to find a new home. The owner of her building caught the superintendent taking bribes one day and fired him. When the new superintendent proved honest, Belle was forced to relocate in a hurry rather than be arrested for illegally renting an apartment.
With only the money she and Sam had stashed and a change of clothing, Belle realized that finding another apartment was out of the question. At first, she slept on the streets but that soon proved perilous as the homeless also found themselves inducted into the military, fighting not only the spaghetti-thin aliens but also the Eurasian Union as well. Belle also learned quickly to avoid the fancier hotels since the risk of discovery made sleep difficult. The sophistication of security in such establishments tend to increase in direct proportion to the cost of the stay.
Eventually, Belle learned to sneak into small motels, where there were likely to be rooms empty. Most middle-class people could no longer afford to travel much, so motels that catered to them were the easiest targets. Motels couldn't afford the advanced sensors used by their more expensive counterparts, but relied on their card locks.
Since few people checked in just after breakfast, as soon as the maid left a room, Belle was free to sneak in to use the room until early evening. By dinner, she was well rested and ready to leave with no one the wiser, as long as the room wasn't being rented long-term in lieu of a cheap apartment. She never allowed herself the luxury of staying in the same place twice though. The risks were just too high.
With no rent or bribe to pay, Belle's expenses were that much the less. With no means to cook anything however, Belle found that she had to earn almost as much anyway in order to eat. Still, eat she did, often at the best restaurants, where the opportunity to lighten a purse in the ladies' room was ever-present.
For three years, Belle lived as a ghost. Never staying in any one place for more than a few hours, carrying all of her possessions with her at all times, staying in the shadows of the city's night life, Belle managed to avoid arrest and to feed herself at the same time. She had little time to reflect on the changes in her life or to pine for the only family she'd ever known. Sam was gone; either to prison or to war, and Belle had to take care of herself.
Eventually, the war changed again, changing Belle's life with it. Suddenly, check points sprang up everywhere with armed soldiers demanding to see documentation. Everyone who wasn't legally employed or enrolled in good standing with a school was inducted into the military.
Belle soon learned that there were times when one could slip passed a checkpoint without being caught, if one was careful. She learned to look as if she were headed somewhere important, even when she wasn't, to keep her clothing from becoming rumpled lest the guards become interested in her. Neither Belle Sprite nor Sarah Mae Wentworth had ever filed paperwork with the IRS, a fact that the 'Irritated Royal Stuff-shirts' as Sam had called them, were sure to pick up on if Belle were detained.
The day finally came when Belle's luck ran out. "Hey!" Belle ignored the soldier's voice as if she didn't know he was addressing her and kept going, pretending to be in a hurry.
"You there!" The guard tried again but Belle turned her face away and waved as if she were spotting an old friend. She changed direction and headed toward where she'd waved to but the guard wasn't to be denied. "Stop that girl! I've seen her before!"
Trying to ignore them, Belle waved again. "Evelyn! Wait up. We'll have coffee!" She broke into a trot as she headed across a street, but someone caught her arm in a steely grip.
"Nice try, Lady," the soldier growled as he steered her back to the check point. "But I saw you three blocks from here last night, and there isn't a residence around for a mile or two." Once they were in the guard house, he looked at her more carefully. "Okay, let's see them."
Belle studied him right back. "See what?" she asked. "I haven't done anything."
"Your papers," he clarified. "Let's see what you have." He waited a moment, but Belle didn't say anything. "Federal law allows me to search persons of interest. May I have your bag, please?" Belle sulked and hid herself deep down inside, leaving Sarah to sort out the mess she found herself suddenly in.
The question was polite, but Sarah knew he wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer. Silently, she handed over her bag, once belonging to a bike messenger. While he rifled through her belongings, Sarah took rapid stock of her options.
She didn't really want to fight the government's war and escape didn't look as if it would take much, but there wasn't really anything in the city worth escaping for. It was becoming increasingly difficult to support herself and Sarah was getting tired of being alone.
"That's a lot of cash," the soldier observed, cutting in on Sarah's thoughts.
"Three hundred sixty-two and fourteen cents, would you please catalog that so I get it all back?" Sarah smiled at him sweetly. He ignored her and continued with his perusal.
"And clothes; are you planning on going somewhere? It looks like you have several changes of clothes here."
Sarah studied the soldier carefully. He looked as if he were enjoying his job entirely too much. "You won't find any papers in there," she admitted.
"So I see," he said, finishing his inspection.
"So, what branch will I be in?" she asked curiously.
The soldier met her gaze and seemed to take stock of her. After a moment, he shrugged. "It depends on how you test and where they need warm bodies the most." He glanced at the bag. "At least the food's not so bad, and the beds are warm," he remarked in a reassuring voice. "The mattresses are hard but you won't freeze at night."
Sarah grinned. "As long as I can get clean clothing that I haven't got to wash in a sink, I'll be fine. Thanks."
There was an earpiece in his left ear with a small microphone buttoned to his collar. The soldier keyed his mike. "One-Five-Three to base, over?"
"Base for One-Five-Three; go ahead?" replied a tinny voice from his earpiece.
"Request transport for one volunteer." He grinned and winked at Sarah.
"Transport en route, One-Five-Three."
The soldier turned off his mike. "Have you been on the street long?" He glanced at the bag and Sarah knew he was thinking about the clothes and money.
There didn't seem to be any reason to lie and Sarah liked his pleasant attitude. It was the first real conversation she'd had with someone since she'd lost her apartment. "My whole life, I guess; remember the President's picnic in Central Park?" When he nodded, she grinned proudly. "The man that picked the president's pockets raised me."
The soldier raised an eyebrow. "No kidding? How'd that guy end up raising a Nordic princess?"
"When I was a baby, my mother did a header off the downtown bridge and he was the only one to stop." Sarah paused before she added, "Thanks for the compliment."
He grinned at her and quoted a popular TV character. "I calls 'em as I sees 'em."
"That bag, when can I have it back?" Sarah asked quietly.
The soldier glanced outside. "It'll be logged in as your personal effects. I expect you'll see them again after your training. That's when I got my stuff back."
"You weren't papered?" Sarah found that hard to believe.
She was right. "Oh, I'm papered, but I got caught ditching school. When they checked my grades, the 'powers that be' decided that since school seemed so low on my list of priorities, maybe I should think about a career change." The soldier laughed at his own joke. "After two months of basic training, my personal effects didn't seem as important to me once I had them back, though."
"But it's all I have left of Sam," whispered Sarah. "He gave me that bag a long time ago."
The soldier's smile faded. "Maybe you'll be able to catch up with him once you're papered," he offered; but there was doubt in his voice. "I don't know how that works, though."
Sarah shrugged. "Thanks."
"Thanks for what? All I did was to arrest you."
Not used to much conversation, Sarah felt rather awkward, but she knew it would be rude not to explain. "Thanks for talking with me. It's been a while."
"You know, you could have come to me sooner," he pointed out without censure.
"I'm sorry about that. Didn't think of it, I guess." Sarah looked down and fidgeted, knowing he was right.
He grinned at her. "I won't say anything if I can help it. It doesn't happen often, but once in a while, people do come up to enlist." He looked as if he'd say more, but a military vehicle pulled up outside and put an effective halt to the conversation.
"I think my ride's here," Sarah braved.
"Good luck," replied the soldier just as the door of the command post opened. Three people walked through the door to size Sarah up. Two were military and the other from the local news.
The soldier with Sarah looked at the reporter and her camera. "She's a volunteer, Ma'am, be nice," he said as she took Sarah's picture for the evening news.
The camera woman rolled her eyes and ignored him entirely. Sarah spoke up. "Don't waste your time, Lady; no one is going to care."
The camera woman laughed at her. "What, scared your folks will be embarrassed?" she mocked. The soldier glared at her and went back out to his post. Sarah thanked him mentally for the support.
"No," Sarah retorted. "I was just trying to be helpful. I'm telling you, I'm a waste of air time. No one's gonna' care about some orphaned street thief."
One of the two men grabbed her bag and the other held up a pair of handcuffs. "Now's the time to show your papers, if you have them," the man holding Sarah's bag said.
Sarah shrugged. "I don't have any and I don't have any reason not to go with you." She stood up and made a face at the news camera.
"Oh, that's attractive," groused the camera woman at Sarah's crossed eyes and poked out tongue. She would have taken more footage, but Sarah turned her back on the woman.
"Thank you for coming, Sir," Sarah replied to the soldier politely. "I think it's time I came out of the shadows but I don't know what to expect. Would you please tell me what to do next?"
The soldier with Sarah's bag put his cuffs away and handed her the messenger bag. "We'll take you to the processing center where you'll take the exam. Once that's done and the test is being graded, the staff will begin the paperwork process- but I can explain all this on the way."
He glanced at the woman with the camera. "Good to see you again, Karin." She huffed and left.
The other soldier grinned at Sarah. "His ex-wife," he explained. "Come on then. If we hurry, we might make lunch." He led the way out the door to the waiting van. Sarah climbed through the sliding door behind him as the first man slid into the driver's seat.
In the van, two bench seats faced forward while the passenger's side, front bucket seat faced rearward. The soldier sat in the front, rearward facing seat, so Sarah sat on the bench facing him. "We can start the paperwork on the way," the soldier said, opening up a laptop computer. "That way it'll go a lot faster once we reach the center." He typed for a second and looked up.
"Name?"
"Sarah Mae Wentworth."
"Birth date?"
"I don't know."
He frowned. "Okay then. Would you please explain and clarify?"
Sarah sighed. "Sam . . . um, the guy who raised me . . ." The soldier's eyebrow shot up so Sarah figured she'd better explain who Sam was. "He didn't have papers either. Sam was the guy arrested in Central Park for picking the president's pockets."
"Ah." The guy with the laptop nodded. "Continue please."
"Sam watched a woman who appeared to be my mother take a header off a bridge, leaving me alone in the street. When Sam came back a couple of hours later and I was still there, he took me home with him. I might have had papers, but I don't know."
"If you had papers as an infant, your finger prints will be on file and our job will be that much easier. There's a palm reader at the center."
Sarah had a mental image of a woman in a turban, but she knew very well that the soldier was talking about an electronic hand scanner. She managed to repress most of her grin.
"Moving on," continued the soldier, typing, "last known address?"
"Four fifteen Seventeenth Street, apartment six-c," supplied Sarah, who felt the need to add, "it was a sublet."
"None," replied the soldier, still typing. "Employment?"
"Self."
"As?"
"Thief."
"Interesting; were you any good?" The driver spoke up.
"Sam taught me everything he knew and I never got caught, so I guess so," Sarah answered modestly.
"He did though," the driver answered with a glance in his rear-view mirror.
Sarah shook her head. "Of course, he did. How else would you tell the world that you picked the president's pocket? And to be fair, he confessed."
"True enough," the soldier with the laptop agreed. "Saved that old lady from going to jail too; um, education?"
"Home-schooled," Sarah answered. "I took a few online college courses too."
"Name of college?"
"Hudson and Arizona; I started a course from Plymouth but I haven't had much time to work on it lately."
"Courses?"
"Binary code, Algebra and Electronics Repair from Plymouth."
More typing and a couple of mouse clicks later, Laptop Soldier grinned at her. "Grades are better than average. If you continue and have the right attitude, you could go far in the military."
"Thank you, Sir."
"Oh, he's the Sir. I'm just an ensign, but you'll learn to read insignia later."
The driver glanced back in the rearview mirror again. "Get up when you're told, go to bed when you're told, don't speak unless spoken to, and never be last."
Laptop laughed. "That'll get you through basic training okay," he agreed.
~~~
At the processing center, Sarah was handed a folded uniform and taken to a locker room where she changed and placed her belongings into a numbered, metal box. When she emerged, the box was taken away to be placed in storage and Sarah was led into a room with rows of computers. Each one was equipped with a palm scanner, keyboard and monitor.
"You'll take the assessment here," she was told by a bored, less-than-impressed personnel officer. Sarah sat at the nearest terminal and waited for instructions. "Palm?" prompted the woman with an impatient shake of her head. Sheepishly, Sarah placed her hand on the outline.
The computer speaker emitted a tinny, synthesized voice. "Welcome, Sarah Wentworth. Please type the answers to the following questions as quickly as you can. When you are finished with a response, please press the enter key."
After each question, Sarah typed her response, grateful that she could type faster than she could talk. The questions seemed tailored to her responses, testing Sarah on a range of topics from math and programming to picking electronic locks.
Two hours later, Sarah was half-finished typing a lengthy response to a question involving computer viruses when the monitor went blank. "This concludes this portion of the exam. Please remain seated and someone will be with you shortly," the computer voice instructed. The lights on the keyboard blinked off.
Sarah blinked. "Was that test timed?" she asked in alarm. "I wasn't finished yet."
"Well, you're done now." Blond Bureaucrat jerked her head in the general direction of the door. "Medical assessment is down the hall and to the right." She spoke into a button-microphone pinned to her collar. "Wentworth, Sarah; from Vocational to Medical."
There didn't seem to be anything for Sarah to do but to find her way to the proper place, so she left and headed down the hall, as ordered. To her relief, the medic on duty was a lot more personable than Blond Bureaucrat. The middle-aged man looked up when she entered and smiled a welcome. "Sarah Wentworth?"
Sarah still wasn't used to her legal name. "Oh, um, yes," she stammered. "Sorry, I've been going by 'Belle' just lately." She paused, embarrassed by her undignified response. "It's a long story."
"I bet it is," he grinned as he fitted the earpieces of his stethoscope into his ears. "Well, I have to make sure you're healthy while the computer decides where to send you."
The medic asked question after question about her health and childhood illnesses when he'd examined her teeth, throat, ears, lungs and heartbeat. Sarah answered as best she could over the tapping of the medic's computer keyboard. He typed as fast as she spoke and never asked her to repeat herself.
"Well, the good news is that you seem to be in perfect health," he informed her. "The bad news is that there's no way of knowing whether or not you're current on all of your immunizations. That means I have to give you a dose of them now, and you'll need another in a few months."
The computer screen flashed, judging from the flicker of light playing over his face. "Okay, belay that," he conceded. "Well Sarah, according to the higher-ups, you're current on your shots, healthy as a horse and wanted back at receiving. The strange thing is that I haven't sent your file on yet. Good luck to you, whoever you are."
"Thank you," responded Sarah with a grin. "You have a great day."
He looked surprised, but responded in kind as she walked out the door and into the corridor. Two uniformed men flanked her as she walked and Sarah wondered what she'd done wrong. At the front of the building, a group of men were gathered in a group, talking amongst themselves.
"It took you morons long enough to find her," an unfamiliar voice was growling when Sarah neared them nervously. "The colonel asked for Wentworth two years ago."
"They didn't find her at all, Lieutenant," snickered Laptop Soldier, who'd ridden with Sarah in the car from the guardhouse. "She volunteered, from what I've been told."
The lieutenant looked Sarah up and down. "Pendleton-North just started a basic training rotation a few days ago. See that she gets there today."
He paused to eye the officious blonde who'd been in charge of administering the assessment test. "And you tell them that Wentworth is property of the 187th. Understood?" Sarah noticed with alarm that he already held her metal box of personal belongings.
Blonde Bureaucrat blinked. "Yes, Lieutenant Avery." She turned and beckoned for Sarah to follow her. "Move it, Wentworth. You have a plane to catch."