Spencerville

The man said, "Fine spread you got here, son. I'm fixin' to buy you out, or run you out. All you sod-busters got to clear out for my cattle."

Keith came up to the man. "This is Ohio, Charlie. We don't talk that way."

"I thought this was Kansas. How the hell are you?"

They shook hands, then embraced briefly and patted each other's backs.

Charlie Adair, of Washington, D.C., and the National Security Council, had been Keith Landry's immediate civilian superior and Keith's sometimes good friend. Keith wondered what he was doing here and guessed it was some administrative thing, paperwork to be signed, or maybe just a physical check to see that Keith was where he said he was, how he lived, that sort of thing. But somehow, Keith knew this wasn't so.

Charlie Adair asked, "How have you been, Keith?"

"Fine until two minutes ago. What's up?"

"Oh, I just came by to say hello."

"Hi."

Charlie looked around. "You were born here?"

"Yup."

"Was it a good place to grow up?"

"It was."

"You get cyclones here?"

"At least once a week. You just missed one. There's a tornado later today if you're still around."

Adair smiled, then asked, "So, you settled in?"

"I am."

"What's a place like this worth?"

"I don't know... four hundred acres, house, building, a little equipment... maybe four hundred thousand."

"No kidding? That's pretty good. But outside of D.C., in Virginia, those gentlemen's farms go for a million."

Keith didn't think Charlie Adair came to Spencer County to talk about the price of land. Keith asked him, "You just fly in?"

"Yeah, took an early morning flight to Columbus and rented a car. Nice drive. I found you without too many problems. Police knew right where you were."

"This is a real small place."

"I see that." Adair observed, "You got some good tan. Lost some weight."

"Lot of outdoor work on a farm."

"I guess." Adair stretched. "Hey, can we take a walk? Long flight and long drive."

"Sure. I'll show you around."

They walked around the farmyard, and Charlie feigned an interest in everything, while Keith feigned an interest in showing it to him. Charlie asked, "This all yours?"

"No. It belongs to my parents."

"Will you inherit it?"

"I have a brother and sister, and we don't have primogeniture in this country, so we'll have to make a decision someday."

"In other words, if one of you wanted to farm the place, that person would buy out the other two."

"That's what sometimes happens. Used to happen. Now the heirs usually sell out to a big concern and take the money and run."

"Too bad. That's what's killing the family farms. Plus estate taxes."

"No estate taxes on farms if you keep it in the family."

"Really? Hey, that's something those assholes in Congress did right."

"Yeah, that's a short list."

They went into the cornfields and walked between the rows. Charlie said, "This is where my cornflakes come from."

"If you're a cow. This is called field corn. You feed it to cattle, they get fat, you kill them, and they become hamburgers."

"You mean I can't eat this?"

"People eat sweet corn. The farmers plant a little of that, but it's mostly harvested by hand around August."

"I'm really learning something. You planted all this?"

"No, Charlie, it was planted about May. I got here in August. You don't think corn would get this high in two months."

"I don't have a clue. So this isn't yours?"

"The land is mine. It's contracted. Rented."

"I got it. They pay you in corn or money?"

"Money." Keith made his way to the Indian burial mound, and they climbed atop it.

Charlie looked out over the fields. "This is the heartland, Keith. This is what we defended for all those years."

"From sea to shining sea."

"You miss the job?"

"No."

Charlie took a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket. "Can I smoke here?"

"Why not?"

He blew a stream of smoke into the air and pointed off in the distance. "What kind of corn is that?"

"That's soybean."

"Like in soy sauce?"

"Yup. There's a Japanese-owned processing plant not far from here."

"You mean to tell me there are Japanese here?"

"Why not? They can't ship a million acres of American farmland to Japan."

He thought a moment, then said, "That's... scary."

"Don't be xenophobic."

"Hey, comes with the job." He smoked for a while, then said, "Keith, they want you back."

Keith already knew that. He said, "Forget it."

"They sent me to bring you back."

"They told me to leave. So you go back and tell them I'm gone."

"Don't give me a hard time, Keith. I had a bumpy flight. They told me not to come back without you."

"Charlie, they can't just say you're out, then change their minds."

"They can say whatever they want. But they also want to extend an apology for any inconvenience this may have caused you. They acted hastily, without due consideration of the developing situation in the East. You remember where that is. Will you accept their apology?"

"Of course. Goodbye. When's your flight?"

"They offer a civilian contract for five years. You'll get your thirty in and full retirement pay."

"No."

"And a promotion. A military promotion. One-star general. How's that sound to you, Colonel?"