Invasion Day: An Oral History of the Veech War Micah Gurley (best business books of all time TXT) 📖

to go. He could stay here with us. But he decided to go in the end, and I must say he's grown into a fine young man. They have programs to help the children deal with hurt and such. I usually wouldn't buy into all that, but I've been there and sat in on some of the talks. Well, I think it's helped him.

I've had seven other of my children join now and I miss every one of them, but they all come back to visit and they all send down help when they can. Good kids, every one of them.

Now, come here and give me a hug, child. I got dinner to cook.

I talked with a few of the children at the Octagon House and decided it was time to leave. On the way to the car, A beat-up ford truck pulled into the drive next to me.

I see you done finished sweet-talking Momma Keets. Well, give me a hand, young fella.

I walked over to give the big man a hand.

You done eat? Come on now, boy. Momma Keets will track you down if you don't sit down with us and have some collards. You don't know about those do you? You hunters, always eating those ready-made packs. (He laughs.) No need to get tense boy; I know what you do and who you are. Momma Keets ain't the only one to know old Jackson Thompson. Always was a serious boy, but I twitched his butt a time or two.

Didn't one of his officers tell you about this place? He's a big boy, my eldest, but he do seem small next to Jackson. Those two grew up hunting in these mountains and have been close ever since.

Now, come on and get some good southern food. You Yankees don't know how to cook, and those stories can wait until tomorrow.

Aftermath

Rosa Velez

A former speechwriter to President Maria Rosita

Tampico, Mexico

We sit inside a beautiful, stucco-style courtyard, inside Rosa Velez's home in Tampico. The former speechwriter is an older lady who carries herself with quiet dignity. She sits sipping tea, her grey eyes watching me, a slight smile at the side of her mouth as if privy to something I don't know.

"It all comes down to history, tradition, and, most importantly, culture," President Rosita would always say. Without those things, you would never get people from different parts of the world, with different perspectives and different worldviews, to see things the same way.

For years, the politicians and enlightened thinkers have been screaming that everyone is the same – we're all just people – when nothing could be further from the truth. People from around the world see everything differently, very differently.

In Brazil, being late is normal, whereas in England, it is highly unprofessional. In Latin America, dancing closely with a partner is entirely acceptable but do that in Japan and someone would have a heart attack. In America, anyone living with their parent in their 30s would be considered unsuccessful and mocked, but it is perfectly fine in China and considered a duty for the oldest son. In parts of Africa, eating cats is deemed to be good luck, an act that would land you in jail in the West. No young man, culture makes us who we are, and uniting the world would be no easy thing.

The question then became how to do it? How do you get American soldiers to work alongside Russian soldiers and expect them to look at each other as anything but rivals? As brothers and sisters? How do you get top generals or admirals from different countries to trust each other after years of formulating ways to defeat each other. How do you get people to put humanity first, instead of the countries where they were raised or where their parents and grandparents live?

The first thing President Rosita acknowledged was that you could n't, not with this generation. The patriotism, distrust, and anger ran too deep. The anger and distrust would never be washed away, even in the face of utter destruction and enslavement. That's when she came up with the age requirement. It was widely unpopular, especially in the West, where the individual's freedom is so strong. There was gnashing of teeth, threats, and calls for President Rosita's removal from the committee. Throughout all of that, she never lashed out, never gave up, never changed from what she knew needed to happen.

Eventually, the roar diminished, and people began to listen. The plan called for children of twelve to enter the program. The program was more of a school, at least when they were young, but one that taught humanity comes first. The Terran Space Command principles were formed and followed; that began a culture that will hopefully be at the heart of all nations.

At eighteen, the child could opt out of the program and do something else with their lives, no questions asked. If they chose to continue, they would enter a military college of sorts, but they would have to sign up for ten years first. That first group of twelve-year-olds reached eighteen two years ago, and eighty percent of them signed up for the TSC. All the children, including those who moved on to civilian life, were brought up to believe in the idea that protecting humanity is the first and only principal that matters.

Hundreds of thousands of orphans were placed in these schools after failing to find any of their families. Strict guidelines and protections were placed on them to make sure they were safe and cared for. Nobody wanted to see these kids suffer more than they already had. And the TSC paid for all of it from their budget.

President Rosita also gathered hundreds of generals and admirals from all over the world in one room and asked them one question. What do soldiers fight for? The answer was unanimous that they fight for their fellow comrades. I know you Americans don't like that term. Smells of