(After the destruction of the main Galactor base at Cross Karakoram, law enforcement agencies around the world found and arrested numerous members of the organization. This is the statement of one woman, arrested in Ameris.)
Why did I join Galactor? How could I work for people who tried to kill everyone on Earth?
When I joined, things hadn’t gotten all crazy. Leader X wasn’t ordering Lord Katse to attack everyone overtly. Mecha weren’t launching weekly. I wasn’t of a rank or clearance to even know about the Jigokillers before they were deployed.
Look at who I was when I joined: born into a declining small town in Ameris, while the conservatives in office swerved further into stupid at the bidding of every rich idiot who flashed money at them. The people who worked held onto their jobs for all they were worth and put up with a lot of BS so they wouldn’t get fired. We barely had Internet, and no prospects for the future if we didn’t leave.
Those who qualified joined the military. Others took what money they could scrape together, then headed out and never came back. I don’t know if they succeeded or failed.
Then there were the rest of us. Taking care of aged parents or grandparents besides our own kids, not educated enough to get jobs anywhere else (if we could even get to those places), the ones with cars commuting to where there were jobs, all of us watching those idiots in Washington take away what little we still had under the guise of trimming waste or plugging budget holes, finally figuring out that all that Republican blather about the working man was just that. They didn’t care about us except as an image to invoke. The Democrats were just as bad, in their way, with condescending programs. But in the choice between a ‘Let Daddy care for you because you’re helpless’ program and a ‘You don’t need anything, you lazy scum’ attitude -- well, when all your hard work gets you nothing, you start wanting Daddy. When the children are hungry or sick, you want Daddy.
And yes, I ended up single with a couple of kids. In my case, I had a husband – until he hared off to who-knows-where, leaving me to care for them. I had no money to hire anyone to hunt him up and get child support from him. Hell, I had a time just getting some sort of government benefits while I looked for a job.
And my parents? The ones who, in any other world, could have watched the children while I worked? Dad had early-onset Alzheimer’s, and Mom got sick. The sort of sick that drains bank accounts, and insurance companies decide not to pay for (except I couldn’t afford health insurance). She died within a few years, and Medicaid barely covered her care. My brother had joined the Army, and sent what money he could until he died in some fucked-up accident. We had serious bills to pay. At least their house was paid for. Not that we could sell it: no buyers.
So there I was, trying to make my part-time minimum wage, and what Social Security and Medicaid/Medicare Dad had, stretch enough to hire someone to help with him and my children. A lot of the neighbors were running as fast as they could to stay in one place. Hell, we were all trying to help each other, like the Republicans and Libertarians (and Democrats) kept preaching. Pooling child-care, elder-care, bill-paying, basic home maintenance and upkeep. At least until some well-meaning do-gooder decided to get the county involved, and the county called in the state. Go look up the news reports and editorials from that time, see how they talked about us. Opened our eyes the rest of the way real fast.
Then Galactor opened up those plants and factories. Yeah, I said ‘Galactor.’ They bought and refurbished the plants that had closed when the parent companies decided rural Ameris was too expensive and shipped out to Indelhia and Asham and places like that. Hired people, trained them, gave us real help. Full-time work at decent wages, with all the benefits. We weren’t choosing jobs based on being home to care for children or parents or siblings, or having to refuse promotions or transfers because there was nobody to help with our dependents.
Not that we knew Galactor was in charge. The Turtle King hadn’t showed up, yet, so nobody knew there even was a Galactor. Most still don’t know Galactor was behind the rebirth of our town. Not like they put their symbol on everything.
I got a job that paid real money. Equipment maintenance and repair. It wasn’t a make-work job. They weren’t using us in place of machines. And I got proper nursing care for Dad, until it became necessary for him to go into a home. Decent day-care for my children.
Hell, I went to their Institute for Science and Technology. Became an engineer. Not bad for a woman old enough to be the aunt of most college students (and the mother of the rest).
Then I started hearing about Galactor itself. Rumors and such. That there were people actually working to improve life for everyone, who weren’t falling for the fantasies we all grew up with about hard work and rugged individualism and doing it all ourselves. And who weren’t putting up with any other damned fantasies, either. The rivers would never flow with milk and honey, but they wouldn’t be toxic sludge, either. There were no free rides, but we weren’t over-charged for the rides.
Yes, I listened. I knew people who had worked all their lives and ended up no better off than when they first took a job, if they were lucky. I’d seen the stores closing right and left in my town. Watched a souring economy end family-owned businesses. Medical bills destroying a lifetime’s savings – if it wasn’t the IRS swooping to take it from the heirs. Listened to the speech from a pharmacist who thought abstinence was the best way to control pregnancy. Listened to another speech about how all we had to do was get second or third jobs if we weren’t making enough to live on. Saw families fall to pieces because there was too little work and too much humiliation.
There’s a story by Flannery O’Connor; I can’t remember the title. About a man who lived in this one Southern town all his life. He had a place there, had a position in society. Then his well-meaning daughter took him to New York, where he had no place or position, didn’t know the rules, and felt useless. Some of the folks who went away from my town and made lives elsewhere invited their families to come and live with them. The ones who accepted wrote to us with regrets about the decision. They felt like the old man: out of place, useless, burdensome.
That’s why Galactor was so successful with us. People could stay where they had lived all their lives. If Grampa had to move in with his grandkids, it wasn’t such a shock. And if we did leave, it was because we wanted to, not because we had to.
Yeah, I heard the rumors, and got interested. I wanted a better life for my children, now that I had a way to give it to them. And I thought of all the other men and women in my position, living in little zombie towns all around the world, suffering because their so-called leaders didn’t care if they lived or died, just about adding more money to already-bloated bank accounts or making political points, or some other bullshit. That had to change.
I don’t know how the higher-ups in Galactor made their recruiting decisions. Bet if you really investigated, you’d find that unofficial Galactor members outnumber the official members 10 to 1. Maybe agents kept their eyes on promising candidates. For all I know, I was intended to hear those rumors. I hadn’t heard the name ‘Galactor’ yet. I hadn’t heard of Leader X, or Katse. If I had, I probably would have laughed it all off. Life isn’t a comic book.
But I must have met their criteria, because I was finally approached and offered a place in the organization. More like a promotion and transfer from my current position. I accepted the chance to help myself, my children, and the world.
When I first saw the symbol, and their uniforms, I wondered what I’d gotten into. But there I was, surrounded by people who had all been given their chances by Galactor, and I wasn’t going to wuss out and run away because of some comic-book trappings. I went from unofficial member of Galactor to official member.
Once the mecha attacks started, I had questions. I knew that changing the world would not be easy. I just wondered if using giant machines was the right way to go about it. But who was I to question Leader X or Lord Katse? They were the ones with the knowledge and the plans, and we carried out those plans.
I know you’re about to get sanctimonious with me. As if we were so different from any other organization. More disciplined, maybe? More willing to put aside our own desires for a common goal, unlike the rest of you.
I didn’t stop keeping track of the world. ISO had a tough time setting up just about anything because they had to deal with people who were too busy playing politics, or lining their pockets, or proving political or religious points, or mewling about national sovereignty, to care about helping their nation. General Somley might have been a tyrant, but he cared more about Franbell than so-called benevolent governments care about their countries.
How do I know I’m right? The military forces of any industrialized nation should have been able to hold off our mecha. You people can blow each other off the map, but one giant metal turtle doesn’t get more than a few dings in it. It took the Science Ninja Team lighting up their ship to destroy it, and they had to nearly kill themselves. You build weapons to make money for the weapons-makers. We built weapons to accomplish our goals.
So, no, I don’t regret joining Galactor.
