“Yeah, me too—it seems even slower than usual today. You going into town tonight?” Frank asked.

“Nope, I can’t,” Raynor replied, “we gotta get the wheat in.”

Omer’s voice crackled through the frequency. “The harvest will be over by the time you get through this line.”

Raynor saw a puff of black vapor as the truck in front of him started up.

“Hey, Omer,” a young man’s voice popped onto the feed, “I hear you’re actually joining the Marine Corps, for real. I had no idea there was a fourth string in the military! Congrats, brother!”

A chorus of guffaws rang out as the trucks shuddered off again.

“Very funny,” Omer said. “When I come back for the victory parade, you’ll be kissing my boots for saving your sorry little asses!”

Raynor laughed, but his smile quickly faded. Despite everything his family had been through, the wars had still seemed so distant. But ever since Raynor’s classmates had begun enlisting, it had started to hit home for him. He’d heard the stories around town; many soldiers never made it home from combat. But Tom was right—he could come back a hero in the end, and Jim would still be driving his half-broken-down robo-harvester, dreaming of a break from the monotony of life. There had been moments during the past few weeks when Raynor actually envied the kid.

Raynor reached up to wipe the sweat from his face; his hand brushed past a new growth of stubble on his cheek! He craned his neck to see his reflection in the side mirror. For years Raynor had wanted to grow a beard like his father’s, and now it was finally coming in. He twisted his face in one direction, then the other, examining his tanned, youthful face, when the sudden roar of a powerful engine blasted him out of his thoughts.