In less than one hour, police and security cleared the block without one arrest or detainment. Not one person balked at the authorities, pushed back against security, or demanded their civil rights were violated. Newspaper reporters, journalists from various news agencies, several magazines, and three network television stations all followed instructions, with no one pushing back against the orders given.

The prerecorded message continuously played over the public address systems from various police and security vehicles, the emergency alert speakers, and all the radio station channels still able to broadcast.  

“Citizens of Augusta. You are now under the control of Tetrak 329 Empire. Noncompliance with the Tetrak 329 will result in execution. Your existence will be tolerated with compliance. Failure to comply will result in execution.”

The message repeated twice, then added, “Report to Augusta airfield for cataloging and classification. Once you have your identification tag, you will return to your scheduled tasks.” Once both messages were repeated, silence filled the air. No one so much as breathed, animated machines looking alive towering over the heads of everyone moving in silence to the airport.

Augusta, the small farming community of less than three thousand souls, didn’t have the firepower or military training other small towns of similar size might have. The population was farmers, their wives and children, and a smattering of factory workers, many of whom hated the repetitive nature of the cardboard box factory. But when your highest level of education was a high school diploma, there wasn’t much left for opportunity. At least not in Augusta, Iowa.

Jared and his best friend, Elmer, hid inside the autobody shop a few blocks from the commotion. Fearing for their lives, they stayed silent, listening to the ominous message repeat.

Jared hissed, “What if we don’t go?” Elmer held his finger to his lips, squinting his eyes, then mouthed ‘Be quiet’ to his friend. Technically, both boys should’ve been at Augusta High School instead of working on Jared’s car at the shop. Elmer’s mother, the high school secretary, was the only saving grace for the teens, who knew school wasn’t Elmer’s thing, but cars were. She figured he could skip one or two classes without anyone missing him that much. His contribution to his Literature or Science classes was negligible. On the other hand, Jared wasn’t all that bright and would die a farmer working either on Sandy’s daddy’s dairy farm or his uncle’s cattle ranch in Texas. Either way, the two boys weren’t missing anything except the funding Augusta would retain from their presence in class.