by Alice Sabo
The door clanged shut, the captors departed, and the canvas panel fell, shutting out the dim light of twilight. For a brief moment, the captives stood frozen.
“My name is Nick. How about we put the water here by the door, so we all know where it is?” He moved the water bucket to the side where it was less likely to be knocked over.
The brothers looked unsure of him. The women eyed him suspiciously.
He poked through the food bucket. “Looks like they gave us Stew-goo. There’s twelve packets in here, so we can each have two.”
“Who put you in charge?” The taller brother demanded.
Nick handed him four packets and two plastic cups. “I’m in this cage too,” Nick said in a neutral voice. “No reason we can’t be polite.” He handed another four packets and two cups to the wiry woman.
“Nadine,” she said. “This is Abby.”
“Sorry to meet you like this,” Nick said with a gentle squeeze on her arm.
He took another two packets and a cup to the balding man. “Arnold,” the man whispered. “Thank you kindly.”
Nick dipped his mug in the water bucket. He sniffed it, sipped it. “Water seems clean,” he announced. Nadine filled both mugs, giving the second one to Abby.
He pocketed his food packets and toured the small confines of the cage. It was about eight feet square. He moved the covered bucket to the back corner opposite Arnold. The tent blocked the wind, but the temperature was dropping. He dreaded a cold night sleeping on the ground. A quick check confirmed that they were all dressed in light pants and t-shirts. This was the middle of summer. No one expected this cool-down, in fact they should be heading into the hottest time of the year. “We might consider bedding down closer together for warmth,” he murmured to no one in particular. He felt the women bristle. Arnold huddled in on himself, forehead on a knee, hands clasped around his shins.
Nick settled in the middle of the cage, the others keeping to the edges. He ate one packet of Stew-goo, saving the other, just in case. He drank two cups of water, knowing that meant he’d need to use the bucket at some point. Then he lay his tired bones down on the pebble strewn pavement to try to sleep.
Chapter 32
“We lost touch with the making of things. We bought food neatly packaged and ready for our consumption. There were stores full of clothing and shoes. After the world changed, those things were no longer available. Shops and warehouses were looted and burned. It was still possible to find some intact and to rummage through piles of moldering fabric to find useful items, but it was always a gamble.”
History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss
TED’S EYES TEARED AT the sight of all his kids with real beds of their own, clean sheets and even pillow cases. Nixie tried to settle them down, but all the newness had them worked up. Some of the kids were sharing beds, even though there was plenty of room. Sootie and Missy were giggling together in a lower bunk. Whatever they needed to adjust was all right with him. He would sleep here, with them, because he couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping alone. Ted had to admit that Wisp was right. This was a good place for the children.
Nixie joined him where he stood at the opening between lockers. She barely limped now, but he still felt a twinge of guilt. “Did you hear about the rescue party?”
Ted wasn’t surprised that Nixie had already hooked into the local gossip. “To rescue who?”
“Nick.”
“Of course. Wisp will lead it.”
“Yeah. And everybody wants to go. There’s going to be a meeting tomorrow about it. First thing in the amphitheatre.”
Ted’s ears perked up at the sound of a four-syllable word. Nixie said it as though she used words like that every day, but in their entire time together, he doubted he’d heard her use anything like it. “Amphitheatre?”
“It’s got a stage and chairs. I guess they have meetings there.”
“A good place for meetings.” Ted looked at the light in Nixie’s eyes and guessed the next words as they came out of her mouth.
“I want to join them.”
“Why?”
Nixie looked away.
He never questioned her. He never made her do anything. But right now, after she’d been reunited with her parents, she wanted to leave. He needed to understand why, that meant waiting. It took a few minutes of watching the kids whispering and giggling before she spoke.
“I can’t stay,” she said, keeping her eyes on the children. She brought up one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Not...yet.”
Ted felt the same unsettled emotions. The journey had ended too abruptly. He was unprepared to stay put. “I understand.”
She turned back to him, eyes wide. “You really do.”
“The children are safe here. They don’t need me to provide food or a camp for the night. They don’t need me at all.” This time when Ted said the words, they didn’t feel quite as dire.
Nixie leaned against the wall of lockers with a sigh. “We’re free to do anything,” she said in a wistful tone.
“What would you like to do?”
The same shoulder rose again, but she kept her eyes lowered. “Don’t know yet. You?”
A smile twitched at his lips. “I don’t know either.”
She pushed away from the lockers, shooting him a smile in return before making a round of the chattering children, shushing and soothing. Ted claimed a lower bunk. He sat for a few minutes listening to the sounds around him. There were people walking by in the halls, speaking in low voices. The children were still whispering. A woman came into the room, chose a bed and sat with a long, low groan. She sounded worn out, but not bereft. A reassuring sound of someone who’d worked a long day and was glad for the rest.
He closed his eyes listening harder for sounds he feared to find. But no one was crying from hunger, moaning from pain or keening from loss, just the constant reassuring buzz of life being lived. Then a shout, rushed footsteps. His hackles rose. He automatically looked for Nixie. She jumped to her feet, alert and wary. The voice came louder, the words clearer. A man’s voice raised in alarm: “The baby’s coming!”
More footsteps, more voices, but gentle and soothing now. The parade passed. Ted let himself relax. Nixie went back to the child she’d been arguing with. He looked around at the clean room, the wonderful scent of dinner still faintly in the air. Beds and blankets, safety and food for his children, this was very good place, indeed.
Chapter 33
“We had gone from crowded cities to a collapse of the society to nomads in a handful of years. Our politicians were soon scrambling for survival like the rest of us. But as the population settles into its new order, the need for a centralized government becomes known.”
History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss
WISP ARRIVED AT THE kitchen before the food for breakfast had been put in the serving trays. Martin had asked him to evaluate the newcomers. Observing them in the cafeteria seemed like the best time. The white kitten sat by the back door meticulously washing a paw. Wisp felt a small bubble of smug pleasure from it. He got a vague flash of a dropped tidbit pounced on and relished. It was the strongest sending he’d felt from an animal.
The kitchen felt understaffed with just Tilly, Sara and Eunice working. He stayed in the hallway, to avoid being in the way. Tilly came in from the storeroom and saw him.
“Good morning, Wisp. Would you like some breakfast?” Tilly beamed at him.
“Yes, please.”
She glanced down at the kitten. “Shoo you sneaky little beast,” she said without an ounce of anger in her voice. “She learned when to beg for scraps pretty fast.”
The kitten yawned showing a pink tongue and sharp teeth. Then it sauntered out, fluffy tail aloft.
“Mary had a baby girl last night,” Tilly informed him.
“All is well?”
“Mother and child are fine. Not sure how Joshua is this morning.”
“He is joyful,” Wisp said. The beacon of delight pouring out from
the new parents was nearly palpable to Wisp. It radiated through the center like the heartening fragrance of bread baking.
“Good.” Tilly headed into the kitchen. “The chickens must like this weather, they laid more than usual. We’re using up the last of the cheese and potatoes for a sort of frittata. And Eunice has made some flatbread.”
Wisp felt Eunice react to the sound of her name. She came from the work area with a look of concern. “Do you need me, Tilly?” She had the fragile hope of many of the refugees. They didn’t believe that High Meadow was all that it seemed to be. All of them awaited betrayal with a bitter resignation. But Wisp could feel the budding bond she felt for Tilly. She loved being in the kitchen. She belonged here. This newcomer was an easy and pleasant read.
“Eunice, come meet Wisp.” Tilly beckoned her closer.
Eunice studied his white hair before her gaze slid over his pale eyes to the tattoo on his neck. He felt her unease waver on the edge of fear. Her thin shoulders hunched and her brown eyes narrowed.
“Wisp does some foraging for us. So you’ll see him around the kitchen. He also doesn’t like crowds.”
Eunice’s emotions stumbled into confusion. “Oh. Foraging?”
“Mushrooms, greens, depends on the time of year,” Tilly explained. “He lives over in the field house if you ever need him. He’s also a Finder.”
“He’s, um, he lives here?”
“We have several Biobots living here, dear. I know it’s a shock for some people, but they’re human too.”
Wisp could sense that Eunice didn’t know what to think about him. She expected him to be something other than what Tilly had described. He gave her a polite bow before turning back to Tilly. “We’ll be leaving this afternoon. Could you supply some food for the trip?”
“Of course. How long and how many?” Tilly pulled a notepad from her apron pocket.
“Eight including myself. I estimate a maximum of two weeks, but we can do some foraging on the way.”
“I can give you train food as back up. The fresh food won’t last more than a few days.”
Wisp mumbled agreement. Tilly became preoccupied, her thoughts going fuzzy to Wisp as she focused on her task. He glanced at Eunice who was still off-kilter. She might be unsure of him, but she was an excellent match for the kitchen. “I’ll get out of your way,” he said with a courteous nod.
“Eunice, let him fill a plate off the stove,” Tilly said over her shoulder as she headed back into the storeroom.
Eunice flashed him a nervous smile. “I, um, shall I...”
“I’ll get a plate,” Wisp said. He gathered a tray, plate and flatware.
Sara pulled a big rectangle pan out of the oven as he approached. “Hey Wisp,” she greeted him. “Try some of this. Bruno found some oregano.”
He felt Eunice relax a bit at Sara’s familiarity. He held out the plate for Sara to serve. It was always better to have someone else decide the proper portion. “Thanks. It smells very good.”
She winked at him. “Thank goodness for Bruno! It’s great to have some herbs back in the kitchen!”
“I should warn you there is a young man, named Toad. He’s staying in the field house, too. Not sure if he’ll come inside for food. He’s a little odd, but he isn’t dangerous. If he doesn’t come in, maybe one of Ted’s kids could take him something?”
“I’ll let Tilly know. We’ll keep an eye out for him, thanks.”
Wisp took his food into the nearly empty cafeteria. A few early risers were sipping mint tea, waiting for the food to be loaded into the warming tables on the serving line. He sat at a table for four with his back to the wall. He wanted to eat before he began the assessment of the newcomers. Eunice was done. He’d let Tilly know when he picked up the supplies for the trip.
Martin came in, scanned the room then waved. He got a cup of tea and joined Wisp. “Have you seen anybody yet?”
“Eunice is good.”
“I wasn’t worried about her.”
Wisp acknowledged Martin’s gibe but kept eating. He could tell that Martin was antsy to join the mission but caught by his loyalty to Tilly. Although he might think he wanted to be on the road, Wisp knew he would worry about High Meadow every step of the way. It made more sense for him to stay.
A small, slender man stuck his head into the room. He took in the various people relaxing at tables, but hesitated on the threshold. Wisp could feel a muddle of emotions in him. He’d need to get closer to get a better read. There were a few more voices in the kitchen which meant that the serving and cleanup volunteers had arrived. Sara came through the swinging doors with the first tray. She thumped it down into the warming table and bustled back for another. Eunice followed her, and Harold right after. People stood, meandering over to the stack of trays. That seemed to be the cue the man was waiting for. He studiously joined the end of the line.
Wisp caught Martin’s eye and directed him to the man. “Is he one of the new ones?”
“Yes.” Martin checked his clipboard. “Name’s Claude.”
Claude mimicked the others, taking a tray, a fork, a napkin. He ran his fingers over the edges of the cloth. A spike of simple happiness came from him. Wisp looked at Martin. “That napkin made him very happy.”
“Huh.” Martin’s brows gathered in a puzzled frown. He looked back down at his notes. “Says he’s a tailor.”
Claude paused until he could accept a filled plate from a female server. Wisp was surprised to see Lottie on the food line, but since it was raining again, she couldn’t work in the fields.
“Who made these amazing napkins?” Claude asked in a soft voice.
“That’d be old Agnes,” Lottie said.
“Her work is amazing.”
Lottie gave him a warm smile. “It’d make her day that you noticed.”
“I’d love to speak to her.”
“She’s in the knitting group. They meet under the center skylight most days.” She pointed off to her left. “Follow the main corridor back. There’s a group of sofas.”
“Thank you.” Claude bobbed his head, beaming at her. He turned toward the tables and saw them watching. His smile slipped.
Martin waved. “Claude, come join us.”
Wisp felt the small man’s fear as he approached the two larger and stronger men. “He’s afraid of us,” he murmured to Martin.
Claude gingerly placed his tray on the table opposite Martin, but remained standing, watching, poised to flee.
“Sit,” Martin said. “You’re up early.”
“I didn’t, um, are there rules about eating?” he asked in a hoarse whisper but sat as ordered.
“No.” Martin tried to give him a reassuring smile, but Wisp thought it looked a bit predatory. “I’m Martin. I’m the head of the Watch. This is Wisp. He’s um, in the Watch.”
“The Watch.” Claude looked at his breakfast, but folded his hands in his lap. “Does everyone join the Watch?”
Wisp could make his assessment of Claude as easily as Eunice. “No. Angus prefers people to work to their strengths. So you should be working in The Wardrobe.”
That fragile, fluttering hope rose in Claude. He shot nervous glances at Martin. “I would like that. It’s what I’m good at.”
“Eat, Claude,” Wisp said gently. “This is a good place. Martin’s men keep it safe.”
Claude reached for his fork, eyes on Martin, but the head of the Watch was looking at the food line.
“Do you know the guys that came in with you?” Martin asked.
Claude took a small bite of his eggs, his eyes widening as he chewed. “This is amazing.” He looked at Martin, then over to the food line which had gotten longer. “Oh, um, no. I met them at the dairy. Such nice people there. I didn’t want to leave, but they were right. This is a better place for me. And I can be helpful here.”
Martin nodded absently as he kept his eyes on the room.
“Claude will be an excellent asset for High Meadow,” Wisp said.
Martin shot
him a look. “Uh huh.”
Claude wolfed down his food and excused himself. Wisp could feel the pressure on his senses as more people came into the cafeteria. Martin waved over two more men, a big broad-shoulder redhead and a tall, slender Asian. He did a similar introduction.
“I’m Rusty,” said the redhead. He took the seat opposite Martin, making his companion sit with his back to the room. “This is Billy.” He gave Wisp a once over, then pointedly ignored him. “Nice place you got here.”
Billy grinned, pointing at his tray. “Great food.”
Wisp shifted his chair away from the table. Rusty hated so viscerally it made Wisp physically sick. He slammed up his barriers, tightening them. That man would not be a good match for a place that now had five biobots. Martin looked over to him. Wisp raised his mug. “More tea.” He walked over to the tea urn, feeling the toxic emotion lessen with each step. Someone touched his arm, startling him.
“Are you okay?” Jean asked. “You don’t look good.”
Wisp lowered his barriers just a fraction to feel Jean’s concern. She was a friend. It felt good to have her worry focused on his wellbeing. “Thank you. A slight headache.” He looked back at Rusty to find the man glaring at him or possibly Jean.
She put her hand on Wisp’s arm again. “That son of a bitch has propositioned every female still in her childbearing years.” She leaned closer, speaking in an undertone. “And not in a nice way.”
Wisp felt a thread of fear in her. He touched her hand. “He won’t be staying.”
Jean let out a big breath. “Thanks.”
Wisp went back to the table trying to block Rusty but focus on Billy. He angled through the tables so that he’d need to pass behind Billy’s chair. He slowed, taking a second to send a feeler out to the Asian man. He was a bright tumble of emotions, like most people, happy to be here, anxious it might be a dream and delighted with the food. A strand of dread twisted his emotions darker. As Wisp sat down, Billy grinned at Rusty, his lips stretched but no humor reached his eyes.