pamphlet stated that all "foreigners" should be deported immediately. Furthermore, only specific kinds of white people should be citizens. Viking ancestry was the best. Pure America wanted everybody else to become slaves in effect.
Smythe fought the urge to become violent. He didn't trust himself to speak.
Sheryl smiled convincingly. The more he worked with her, the more her acting skills impressed him.
"This is very interesting," she said. "Tell me more."
"The human race is divided into ethnic pools," Julie said. "Some pools include natural leadership genes, and some don't. The leaders should make all the decisions. It's what they were born for."
"Are Tom and I in a leadership pool?"
"Probably. You look right. We'll have to check your genealogy, of course. All members of Pure America are required to submit a family tree for review."
Sheryl nodded. "Makes sense." There wasn't even a hint of irony in her voice.
"The people in the other pools need to obey the decisions. They're not qualified to think for themselves. They're instinctive followers. Nothing wrong with that. They're just different from us."
"Like black people?"
"Exactly." Julie nodded. "Negros, Indians, Spics, Jews, Asians. This neighborhood is overrun with the lesser ethnic pools."
"Why do you live here?"
"It was cheap."
"I guess we all have to make compromises," Sheryl said. "You must have strong feelings about President Haley."
"He's the worst thing that ever happened to this great nation. An abomination. Just hearing his name makes my blood boil. The minorities voted for him, of course. That's a good example of why we need to take away their privileges. When this country was founded, only white males who owned property were allowed to vote. I don't know why we ever changed that rule."
Smythe decided not to mention Julie wasn't a male.
"You're absolutely right," Sheryl said. "I wish we could do something about Haley. Just voting that bastard out of office isn't enough. Besides, the election is months away. We need to take action now."
Julie smiled. "Actually, we are doing something."
She suddenly had all of Smythe's attention.
"Oh?" Sheryl said.
"I shouldn't talk about that." Julie shook her head. "Hey, Pure America is having a barbecue today. The top brass will be there. I'm pretty sure I can get you an invitation. It's at a farm near Bolingbrook."
"That sounds great. We'd love to come!"
"I'll call ahead and make sure it's OK. Tom and Jessica, right? What's your last name?"
"Sonder," Smythe said.
He gave Julie a phone number so she could reach him. The special number was attached to his cover identity, but it routed to his real phone in an untraceable way.
"And write down the address of the party, please," he added. "We don't want to end up in the wrong place."
She found a pen and wrote the information on one of the pamphlets. "I'll see you there."
"I can't wait," Sheryl said. "We'll put on our Sunday best."
She and Smythe walked out of the house.
As soon as they were a good distance away, he said, "I have a feeling about this one."
"Yeah. Julie wasn't a flake like the others. Pure America might be organized enough to be dangerous. Are you going to call it in?"
He took out his phone and dialed Aaron's number.
The commander answered immediately, "Report."
"Pure America is a promising lead," Smythe said. "We were invited to a barbecue this afternoon."
"Be there. In the meantime, the legate wants you to meet the President. Sheryl can come, too."
Smythe was startled. "Why, sir?"
"Some kind of medical issue," Aaron said. "While you're there, you might as well tell us about Pure America if you really think they're a legitimate threat."
"My skin is still crawling."
"I trust your instincts. The President is attending a fund raising event at the Field Museum. Wear nice clothes. I'll meet you there."
"Yes, sir." Smythe said. He closed his phone and turned to Sheryl. "Guess what? You get to dress up and meet the President."
She
Smythe fought the urge to become violent. He didn't trust himself to speak.
Sheryl smiled convincingly. The more he worked with her, the more her acting skills impressed him.
"This is very interesting," she said. "Tell me more."
"The human race is divided into ethnic pools," Julie said. "Some pools include natural leadership genes, and some don't. The leaders should make all the decisions. It's what they were born for."
"Are Tom and I in a leadership pool?"
"Probably. You look right. We'll have to check your genealogy, of course. All members of Pure America are required to submit a family tree for review."
Sheryl nodded. "Makes sense." There wasn't even a hint of irony in her voice.
"The people in the other pools need to obey the decisions. They're not qualified to think for themselves. They're instinctive followers. Nothing wrong with that. They're just different from us."
"Like black people?"
"Exactly." Julie nodded. "Negros, Indians, Spics, Jews, Asians. This neighborhood is overrun with the lesser ethnic pools."
"Why do you live here?"
"It was cheap."
"I guess we all have to make compromises," Sheryl said. "You must have strong feelings about President Haley."
"He's the worst thing that ever happened to this great nation. An abomination. Just hearing his name makes my blood boil. The minorities voted for him, of course. That's a good example of why we need to take away their privileges. When this country was founded, only white males who owned property were allowed to vote. I don't know why we ever changed that rule."
Smythe decided not to mention Julie wasn't a male.
"You're absolutely right," Sheryl said. "I wish we could do something about Haley. Just voting that bastard out of office isn't enough. Besides, the election is months away. We need to take action now."
Julie smiled. "Actually, we are doing something."
She suddenly had all of Smythe's attention.
"Oh?" Sheryl said.
"I shouldn't talk about that." Julie shook her head. "Hey, Pure America is having a barbecue today. The top brass will be there. I'm pretty sure I can get you an invitation. It's at a farm near Bolingbrook."
"That sounds great. We'd love to come!"
"I'll call ahead and make sure it's OK. Tom and Jessica, right? What's your last name?"
"Sonder," Smythe said.
He gave Julie a phone number so she could reach him. The special number was attached to his cover identity, but it routed to his real phone in an untraceable way.
"And write down the address of the party, please," he added. "We don't want to end up in the wrong place."
She found a pen and wrote the information on one of the pamphlets. "I'll see you there."
"I can't wait," Sheryl said. "We'll put on our Sunday best."
She and Smythe walked out of the house.
As soon as they were a good distance away, he said, "I have a feeling about this one."
"Yeah. Julie wasn't a flake like the others. Pure America might be organized enough to be dangerous. Are you going to call it in?"
He took out his phone and dialed Aaron's number.
The commander answered immediately, "Report."
"Pure America is a promising lead," Smythe said. "We were invited to a barbecue this afternoon."
"Be there. In the meantime, the legate wants you to meet the President. Sheryl can come, too."
Smythe was startled. "Why, sir?"
"Some kind of medical issue," Aaron said. "While you're there, you might as well tell us about Pure America if you really think they're a legitimate threat."
"My skin is still crawling."
"I trust your instincts. The President is attending a fund raising event at the Field Museum. Wear nice clothes. I'll meet you there."
"Yes, sir." Smythe said. He closed his phone and turned to Sheryl. "Guess what? You get to dress up and meet the President."
She
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