Hope of Earth

by Piers Anthony

  “Women?” she prompted.

  “They want girls, yes. They promise to return them after they are through with them.”

  Flo grimaced. That would mean barefoot, pregnant, diseased, and dead in spirit. “And what is their threat?”

  “The baffles will not be allowed up until they are satisfied with the deal.”

  “What is their strength?”

  “We don’t know, but it is clear that they have a sufficient force to maintain possession of the baffles. They showed us just enough snipers dug in around the area to satisfy us that it is not an empty threat. We will have no water until we deal with them.”

  “They mean to bleed us dry,” Flo said angrily. “In more than one sense. And they may destroy us after that anyway.”

  “Yes. This is a bad situation. They demand that two more people, one from each enclave, come within the following hour to serve as runners, arranging for the goods to be delivered. The first batch they want by dusk today. Now I must report to the elders.”

  “The elders are not going to agree to any of the demands. Neither are the folk of Bones.”

  “I know,” he said heavily. “But if we don’t get those liaison people out there within the hour, the raiders will burn the baffles. Then they’ll shoot us down as we run out of water and come out.”

  “It’s hostages they want. Women they can use or torture while they wait. To goose us into prompt capitulation.”

  “Yes. They have figured it out. Apparently that is their business: preying on isolated communities. When they have squeezed one for all it’s worth, and the pickings diminish, they move on to the next. They are experienced in what they do, and make few mistakes. They don’t just charge in, because some communities have mines and traps for the unwary. They force representatives to bring the goods out to the raiders, on a regular schedule. It is all very organized.”

  “I’ll go,” Ho said.

  “What?”

  “I’ll be the hostage from Dreams. That fits their demand, and they won’t be much interested in raping me.”

  “Flo—’”

  “Who else should be sent out?”

  Dirk shook his head ruefully. “I’ll tell the elders.” He kissed her and departed.

  Flo prepared herself, then walked out on the trail to the fork. She had tried to make it seem routine, pre-empting the decision of the elders, but she was afraid. She knew the elders would not readily agree to bring out their goods, and would absolutely balk at sending out any young women. The community of Bones, with a more militant attitude, would angrily refuse. That meant that the hostages would be in trouble. If Bones even sent a hostage.

  But there at the fork stood a young woman: a slender beauty with lustrous black hair, in a skirt and blouse as if going on a picnic. She wore a knife at her hip, in the Bones manner. No, not a woman, but a girl of nine or ten, not yet grown. “Oh, honey,” Ho said, hurrying to meet her. “You must not be the one. Those raiders—”

  The girl turned great dark eyes on her. “Do you not know me?”

  “Dear, I don’t. But I must warn you that this is no polite encounter. You must go back and have them send out—” She hesitated, not wishing to affront the girl. “An older, unattractive woman.”

  “I am Minne. Adopted daughter of Hugh and Anne. We met once, a while ago.”

  Flo remembered Hugh and Anne, the musician and dancer. They had met seven years ago on the coast. They had had a darling little girl. The age was consistent. And that child had been—could it possibly be? “And you—how could you be—?”

  “Your natural daughter? I am, you know. That is why I chose to come here. I knew I would be needed.” She glanced up the path. “We must go, or they will become impatient.”

  “But Minne, you don’t understand. This is no innocent picnic. Those men—”

  “Please, Flo. We will have time to talk. Then I will show you the mark between my toes. Now we must reach the baffles in time.” She walked on up the trail, forcing Flo to hurry to catch up. The girl simply would not listen to Flo’s real concern, and Flo was reluctant to spell it out. What would a child of nine know of rape and torture and killing?

  They moved up the mountain, and in due course reached the ledge below the baffles. There were now just the frames, because the nylon nets had been furled. When spread, the nets were huge, six meters high and twice as wide, though they looked small from this distance. Ten million droplets of fog had to coalesce to form a single drop of water, but on a heavy fog day, thousands of gallons of water dripped off the nets into the main collection pipe. This was one of the driest regions on earth; this was the only significant source of water for the two communities. Which was what made it so vital. Without the spread nets,” they could not survive here.

  And the baffles were now in the hands of a ruthless enemy. Several rough men were standing around the ledge, looking up at the empty frames, holding rifles at the ready.

  A man strode down to meet them. “Well now: one winner and one loser. Have your groups agreed to the terms?”

  “No,” Flo said tightly. Obviously she was the loser—which meant that Minne was the winner. That was not good news for either of them. Obviously these brutes would stop at nothing.

  “No,” Minne echoed, seeming undaunted.

  He nodded. “Sometimes it takes time for them to see the light. If they do not come to their senses by dusk today, they will hear your screams.” He looked meaningfully at Flo.

  Minne stepped between them. “My father will not harm my mother.”

  He stared. “What?”

  Flo decided to let the improbabilities of the girl’s attitude go for now. This was Bub; she had no trouble recognizing him, even after so many years. “You raped me, ten years ago. This is our daughter.”

  “It’s not possible!” But he looked shaken. Obviously such a thing had never occurred to him.

  “As you wish,” Minne said. She took a seat on a rock. “We will be here for the day. Because I know you, Father, I will give you this advice: if you value your life, flee at dusk, and never return.” She looked away, dismissing him.

  Disgruntled, Bub went to consult with the other men. Flo looked at Minne. “I do not like him,” the girl said. “But he is my blood father, so I had to come to warn him.”

  Flo struggled again with the wèirdness of the girl’s manner. She still wasn’t sure that this was her natural daughter, though it seemed likely. But that made Minne the very worst possible hostage, as far as Flo personally was concerned. How could she allow such a child to be abused? “Maybe figuratively,” she suggested. “You identify with someone.”

  The girl turned a disconcerting gaze on her. “Someone 33,000 years ago,” she said.

  Flo could not fathom this, so let it go. “Maybe you can slip away at dusk. It is not wise for a girl like you to be here among these brute men.”

  “I came to protect you. I shall see that you are not harmed.”

  The strangeness would not let go. “Within an hour, the community representatives will arrive. After that, the mood will turn ugly.”

  “I will divert the men.”

  Apparently nothing she could say would get through to Minne. Could the girl be simple, or out of touch with reality? That would explain a lot. But she seemed neither stupid nor out of touch. Rather, she had an eerie awareness of reality that Flo was beginning to envy.

  After a time, Minne spoke again. “I came here also because I wanted to be with you, one time. To love you.” She removed her shoe and showed her left foot. There was the mark between the first and second toes.

  Something melted in Flo. Suddenly she accepted everything, regardless of the confusion. “Oh, honey, I have been looking for you all my life! I’m glad you found a good family, and I’d never want to deprive you of it, but how I have missed you!”

  The girl hugged her, crying. “Mother.”

  “Baby.” Flo was crying too. This was a fulfillment of a kind she had longed for, but never expected to expe
rience. Reunion with her lost child.

  In due course the emissaries appeared—and Flo was surprised and dismayed. Bry and Tourette! Whatever had possessed them to volunteer for this dreadful danger? The girl was even dressed in a foolish skirt and blouse, similar to Minne’s outfit, showing too much of her legs and bosom as she walked. Sheer folly!

  Bub walked out to meet them. Flo couldn’t hear what was said, but she didn’t need to: the two enclaves were not acceding to the terms. But what would that mean for the water supply?

  Bub turned angrily and signaled to his men. Four dashed up and grabbed Bry and Tourette by the arms. Bub was taking them hostage! Because they hadn’t brought him the capitulation he demanded. Flo started to get up, to protest this violation of the normal procedures of truce, but Minne drew back on her arm. “Accept it,” she murmured.

  What did she know, that Flo didn’t? The raiders could hardly have better hostages than these. Tourette was the daughter of the leader of the Bones enclave, and beloved by the Dreams enclave too. Bry, too, was respected by both groups, and not just because he was so plainly in love with Tourette. Any threat to one would devastate the other.

  Bub searched Bry, running his hands efficiently over body and clothing. Bry was unarmed. Then he searched Tourette, taking the trouble to squeeze her breasts and bottom in the process, and found a small pistol and a knife. Flo realized that Minne had so disconcerted the man that he had forgotten to take her knife from her; she still wore it.

  The men hauled the two of them across to join Flo and Minne. “Those idiots are going to get two of you tortured,” Bub said darkly. “And two of you will do for entertainment until more girls are delivered. By dusk. You had better hope that your enclaves see the light by then.”

  “Flee at dusk,” Minne repeated to him. “Don’t tell your men.”

  “My presence is all that keeps my men from raping you right now,” Bub replied contemptuously. “You think you’re too young, but you’re not. They get a special thrill from youth. After dusk, if the goods aren’t here, I’ll let them.” He paused, reconsidering. “In fact, maybe it’s best to encourage your folk now. Sound carries well, up here. Let’s see what it takes to get a good scream.” He turned to Tourette. “You first. Take off your clothes, or we will tear them off you. We encourage you to scream. There’s no point in hurting you more than necessary. But scream you will, repeatedly.”

  “Have your men gather,” Minne said. Then she stood, assumed a pose, and began to dance.

  Bub stared. So did Flo. What was the girl up to? She was well formed for a child, and had good motions, but she was a child. Yet her dance was fascinating in its suggestive expertise. In a moment she had the attention of every man in the vicinity, and probably of the hidden snipers too. Flo was appalled; too many of the men obviously did have perverted interests. This was an excellent way to get herself raped before Tourette.

  But the men, restrained by the glowers of their leader, merely watched. Bub might not believe what Minne had told him, but it surely made him hesitate before abusing her. Minne danced with increasing flair, her skirt and hair flaring out. It wasn’t just her slender body; there was something about the way she moved that was captivating. The way her mother Anne had danced, years ago. Flo had not before realized how much of the appeal of a dance was from the motions, rather than just the body. Minne had unparalleled grace. For the moment she was actually distracting them from Tourette, who merely stood watching.

  Dusk was approaching. But the girl did not stop. She danced indefatigably, and the men watched, unable to draw themselves away. When at last their interest seemed about to flag, Tourette joined her in the dance. Tourette’s motions were not as smooth, but her body was quite well formed, and her blouse was tight, showing the motions of her breasts, which were not tightly bound. Her skirt spread out and up often, showing glimpses of her well fleshed thighs. If she suffered any twitches, they were masked by the energy of the dance. This was more than enough to renew spectator interest. The girl had been the appetizer; the woman was the main event. The two circled each other, moving in tandem, as if they had rehearsed this number. As surely they had.

  “What on earth are they doing?” Flo asked Bry. “This is just getting those brutes more excited.”

  “Dusk is the key,” he replied enigmatically. “It will not be long now.”

  Minne whirled, then faced outward and looked directly at Bub, warningly. What did she know?

  Bub looked around. “Someone’s missing,” he muttered. He walked into the closing darkness, looking.

  Minne finally ceased her dancing, and returned to join Flo. “It keeps me warm,” she confided.

  “Come close to me; I’m warm,” Flo said. The girl agreed, and snuggled close.

  Tourette continued a little longer, then also stopped. “Now it is dusk,” she said. She and Bry joined Flo and Minne against the rock.

  “Party time!” one of the men said.

  “Not till Bub says,” another warned him. “He wants that second gal first.”

  “Well, we’d better set up anyway.”

  The men brought wood to make a fire. There wasn’t much, but they did find enough to make a small one. The chill fell quickly, even in summer, this high on the mountain. Several grouped around it, warming their hands. They did not offer the hostages a place by it.

  Flo had a dark suspicion that made sense of certain mysteries. But she didn’t dare ask any of the three young folk about it.

  “Hey, where’s our cook?” a man asked. “It’s time for dinner.”

  “He was sleeping in the hollow over there.”

  “I’ll go wake the lazy bastard.” The man walked into the shadow.

  After a time, another looked into the darkness. “Hey, what’s keeping you?” There was no answer. Disgruntled, he went out himself.

  In time, the remaining three men began to get nervous. “Something’s wrong,” one muttered. “Where’s Bub?”

  Flo looked around. The flickering light of the fire illuminated the rock close to it, while the one against which they sat was mostly in shadow. She realized that this was not the best place to be, if her suspicion was correct. “We should move,” she said, and hoisted her bulk up. She and the others walked to the other rock, closer to the brightness of the fire, and settled down against it. The girl rejoined her, while Bry and Tourette sat close beside them. The three men seemed not to notice; they were peering nervously out into the darkness. Flo wondered whether the four of them could simply walk out of there. But that would accomplish nothing; without hostages, the raiders would simply burn the baffles. In any event, this was probably the best place to be, and not just because it was a bit warmer than the other. They were fully visible here.

  “Where the hell are they?” one man demanded. “No one’s supposed to sneak off like this.”

  “I’ll check the cook myself,” another said. “Probably somebody’s stupid idea of a joke.” He walked into the night.

  “Keep in touch,” one of the others said nervously.

  “Okay, I’ll whistle.” He did so, and the sound of his halfway tuneless melody floated back as he walked.

  Then it stopped.

  “Hey, whistle!” a man by the fire called. But there was no sound.

  “Damn it, now I know there’s trouble,” the other said. He lifted his rifle. “And these bitches are probably in on it.” He whirled and fired. The bullet struck the rock where Flo had been until recently.

  Flo flinched. This made her look prescient. If they had stayed there, they might have been hit. But that wasn’t why she had made them move. It was only for the light.

  “Stop that,” the other man shouted. “They’re our hostages. And I think maybe we need them.”

  “For sure.” The first man reoriented his rifle. “Come here, bitches.”

  “Close your eyes,” Minne said. Bry and Tourette did.

  “But—” Flo protested.

  “Now.” The girl put her hand across Flo’s face
.

  Not knowing what to make of this, Flo obeyed. There was a minute or so of silence.

  “Okay, now you can look.”

  Flo opened her eyes. The men were gone.

  Flo looked at Minne. “What happened?”

  “We can go home now. We can use brands from the fire to see our way.”

  “But the men—the snipers—”

  “Tell them what you saw, when you return to Dreams.”

  “But I didn’t see anything! The men were there, then they weren’t.”

  “Yes.”

  “But what am I to make of that? They wouldn’t just go away on their own.” But she already had a notion. She had chosen a bright spot to sit, so that anyone firing a rifle would be able to see exactly who the four of them were, and where. So as not to shoot them by accident. She had been caught by surprise by the deadly silence of it.

  Minne looked at her. The girl’s eyes reflected the fire eerily. “Remember the plague?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “It’s payback time,” Tourette said.

  That was confirmation. It did make sense. The pacifists of Dreams had done the folk of Bones a significant favor, when a problem had come that the survivalists couldn’t handle. Dreams had not accepted payment. But there had been a debt. Now that debt had, been paid, in a way the pacifists could never acknowledge. Maybe they would elect simply not to question where the raiders had gone.

  The two girls from Bones had distracted the raiders, including any nearby snipers, so that they would not be alert for the developing siege. So that they would not realize that the hunters had become the hunted. Until too late. They had deliberately risked getting raped, showing the kind of discipline for which they had been trained.

  Probably the bodies would never be found. Trust the survivalists to know their business. If they could take out armed raiders one by one without a sound, they could surely handle the rest of it. And with luck, no other raiders would come, for they would have warning that this region was dangerous. Because of the surprising symbiosis of communities with fundamentally opposing philosophies.