Грань будущего

           "Ithoughtyouwantedtohelpoutonthefarm?"

           Theoldmanhastilyinterjected,"Letthechildmakeupherownmind.It’sstillafreecountry."

           AlightflaredintheyoungRita’seyes."That’sright,Dad.Igettochoose,right?Well,aslongastheydon’tmakemejointhearmy."

           "Don’tlikethearmyeither,eh?TheUDFisn’tallbad,youknow."

           Rita’sfatherscowled."Thisismydaughteryou’retalkingto."

           "Butanyonecanenlistoncetheyturneighteen.Weallhavetherighttodefendourcountry,sonanddaughteralike.It’squitetheopportunity."

           "I’mjustnotsureIwantmydaughterinthemilitary."

           "WellIdon’twannajointhearmyinthefirstplace,Dad."

           "Oh,why’sthat?"Alookofgenuinecuriositycrossedtheoldman’sface.

           "Youcan’teatMimics.Ireadsoinabook.Andyoushouldn’tkillanimalsyoucan’teatjustforthesakeofkillingthem.Ourteachersandourpastorandeveryonesaysso."

           "You’regoingtobequiteahandfulwhenyougrowup,aren’tyou."

           "Ijustwannabelikeeverybodyelse."

           Rita’sfatherandtheoldmanlookedateachotherandsharedaknowingchuckle.Ritadidn’tunderstandwhatwassofunny.

           Fouryearslater,theMimicswouldattackPittsfield.Theraidcameinthemiddleofanunusuallyharshwinter.Snowfellfasterthanitcouldbeclearedfromthestreets.Thecitywasfrozentoahalt.