by Charles Ray
“Yes,” Hiroshi said. “But, one day the monitors found our home, and they took me away.”
“What happened to your parents?”
“I don’t know.” Hiroshi felt the hot sting of unshed tears as he thought of his mother and father. “But, I think the monitors killed them.”
“Did they find the hidden books?”
“No. I don’t think the monitors thought to ask. If they’d found them, there would have been a public burning.”
“There would have been at that.” The man rubbed at his beard. “Okay, we’ll take you two to our settlement. There’s someone there who can verify what you’re saying.”
“You sure that’s a good idea, Abraham?” Reuben asked.
“If the boy’s telling the truth, we have to know. We need to take him to Rebecca.”
15.
The men set out to the south, with five out in front and the rest following behind. The bearded man, who introduced himself as Abraham Moses, one of the leaders of the Freelanders, walked in the center of the group with Hiroshi and Clementine. He’d put his bow across his shoulder, but those behind them kept their weapons at the ready.
They walked in silence for an hour. Hiroshi was brimming over with curiosity, but Moses’s stern expression made him reluctant to ask questions. Clementine, on the other hand, wasn’t as sensitive to the man’s moods.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
Moses frowned down at her.
“Just full of questions, aren’t you, missy?”
“I just want to know is all,” she said innocently.
He laughed.
“Okay, guess you got a right to know,” he said. “We call it Freeland.”
“I thought that was the name of your country,” Hiroshi said.
“Country? We got no country, boy. We just got one little settlement of about five thousand people, and we call it Freeland.”
“You only have five thousand people? But, they act so afraid of you in New Liberty. They have monitors patrolling the borders because they’re afraid you’ll invade. There are more people working in one of our factories than you have in your whole country.”
“Hell, boy, it’s not the numbers they’re afraid of,” Moses said. “It’s the idea of people thinking for themselves that scares your New Liberty leaders. They got you people under their control, and they’re afraid we might infect you with free will.”
“Huh?”
“I reckon you’re still too young to understand. You will, though, that is, if you’re who I think you are.”
Hiroshi asked who Moses thought he was, but the man refused to be drawn out further. Instead, he launched into a history of Freeland.
“Most of the people living in Freeland now were born there,” he said. “We probably only have a couple hundred people, like me and Rebecca, who came from other places.” When Hiroshi gave him a wide-eyed look, he laughed. “I know I don’t look it, boy, but I’m seventy years old. I used to live in a place called Baltimore. But, when things started going bad, and the sea levels rose, wiping out most of the coast, me and my family moved out to West Virginia.
Moses looked around as they walked. He waved a hand, taking in their surroundings.
“Out here it was tough at first. I mean, we were a bunch of city folks. But, people looked out for each other. Not like it was back in the cities, where it was dog eat dog. Then, the preachers and the politicians got in bed with the militia and took over the cities, and things got worse. New Liberty’s not the only one, you know. They got another one west of here, what used to be Cleveland, Ohio, which is just as bad as New Liberty. They call themselves Independence. We steer clear of both places, but for some reason, the people in New Liberty seem to be a bit more paranoid about us than the leaders over at Independence.”
“They wanted to kill Hiroshi,” Clementine said. “They’re really evil people.”
“They didn’t start out that way,” Moses said. “You have to understand; things were pretty bad when the world started to fall apart. People kind of went crazy. At first, the politicians just tried to restore order and stability. It was so bad, though, they had to use some pretty heavy handed methods to do it. It worked, too. When the militias started enforcing the rules with summary executions, peoples’ taste for violence evaporated.”
“But, they’re still killing people,” Hiroshi said.
Moses nodded, pulling at his beard again.
“Well see, that’s the problem with people who have power. It corrupts them something fierce. The more they have, the more they want, and the worse they get.”
“How do you avoid it in Freeland?” Hiroshi asked.
“In Freeland, no one has power,” Moses said. “What we have is responsibility. They call me the leader, for instance. But, that’s only because I’m old and experienced. Most things I do, I have to get the okay of the Council of Elders. If they disapprove something, that’s it. In addition, I share the leadership with my wife, who has also been in the community a long time. She was a teacher before things went bad. Worked at a school in Richmond, Virginia, until they burned it down and ran off the teachers. She made her way out here about a year after I did. Ran our schools for a while, and then the two of us married, and well, the rest is a story for another time.”
“We have The Committee,” Clementine said. “But, they still treat us badly.”
“How many- what do you call yourselves – oh yeah, proles; how many proles sit on this committee of yours?”
“Only citizens can be on The Committee,” she responded.
“In Freeland, anyone can be elected to the Council of Elders after they reach the age of eighteen, and the members have to stand for re-election every two years. That way, no one gets drunk with power. When you know you have to keep the people happy, it tends to curb the instinct to lord it over them. In Freeland, it’s not the leaders who are the boss, it’s the people.”
“I read in a book that the U.S.A. was like that,” Hiroshi said.
“What’s the U.S.A.?” Clementine asked.
“That’s what this country used to be called. That’s short for United States of America,” Moses said. “They say it stretched three thousand miles east to west from one ocean to the other, and nearly a thousand miles north to south.”
“They elected the leaders just like you say you do in Freeland,” Hiroshi added. “I wonder what went wrong.”
“A whole bunch of things,” Moses said, shaking his head. “Some were caused by nature, but a lot were caused by just plain greed and stupidity. When things started falling apart, books were burned and schools were closed, leaving people pretty much to their instincts in order to survive. When people like your committee took charge in the cities that were left, they instituted strict controls in their efforts to restore some semblance of order. That led to dictatorships in at least the two we know of.”
“How did you avoid it in Freeland?”
“People who came out here did it to get away from the disorder at first. When we realized that we had to join together in order to survive, we tried to rebuild what had been lost. We were fortunate that a lot of the people who came here had been teachers and intellectuals fleeing the persecution that was developing in the cities. They remembered things like individual freedom and respect for human rights. The rest just sort of grew out of that initial impulse.”
Hiroshi found the man’s story fascinating. So much so, in fact, that he’d lost track of time or how far they’d walked. He was surprised, therefore, when they entered a large clearing in the forest and Abraham Moses called a halt.
The men who had been in front of the group had already made a fire and placed logs around it for seating. Someone had killed a deer, and one of the men was skinning and gutting it. Clementine made gagging noises when she saw the man pull a mass of bloody guts from the animal’s carcass.
“Looks like we eat well tonight,” Moses said.
“Eew! What is that?” Clementine asked.
“That, li
ttle girl is a deer, and when it’s cooked it’ll be venison. Best meat the woods have to offer.”
“Y-you eat that?”
“Don’t you get meat in New Liberty?”
Hiroshi laughed. “Maybe, but since everything’s all mushed together into a tasteless gray paste, there’s no way to know for sure.”
“Well, you’re in for a treat tonight,” Moses said.
The men hefted the deer’s carcass, slipped a long green sapling through from the throat and out the rectum, and then placed it on two tripod saplings at either side of the fire. Very quickly, the smell of the roasting meat filled the air in the clearing. Hiroshi found himself remembering his mother cooking, and the smells that came from the pot. His mouth began to water in anticipation. Even Clementine sniffed appreciatively.
“It does smell good,” she said.
And later, when the meat was golden brown all over and some wild roots the men had gathered had been roasted as well, they sat around and the cook sliced off generous chunks for everyone. Hiroshi immediately bit into the meat, juice running over his chin. Clementine was more tentative at first, nibbling at the crusty meat, but when it hit her tongue, her face lit up with a smile. She quickly devoured the first piece, and looked around for another, which quickly came. She looked at Hiroshi with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“This is a lot better even than your chestnuts,” she said, wiping daintily at the line of grease that ran down over her chin.
Two toilet areas were set up downhill from the camp site, one for the men, and a smaller one set off for privacy for Clementine. As darkness fell, with their stomachs full, Hiroshi and Clementine settled down on a bed of leaves and straw and fell into deep, satiated slumber with their arms wrapped around each other.
They were awakened the next morning by the sound of the men stirring in preparation for the day’s march.
“Rise and shine, you lazy bones,” Moses said. “We’ll be reaching the settlement by midday, but we need to get started now.”
After a quick breakfast of venison left over from the previous evening’s repast, they set out. Clementine found the cold meat not quite as good as it had been hot and fresh off the fire, but still delicious. To Hiroshi, the cold meat actually tasted better. He remembered reading about how the original settlers in the area, the Amerinds, would smoke strips of deer meat and dry it, and then keep it with them to eat while they were on the trail or hunting. He made a mental note to talk to Moses about that. It would enable the Freelanders to spend longer times on patrol without having to stop to hunt. He shook himself – he was already thinking of himself as a Freelander, and he and Clementine hadn’t even been formally accepted into the community. “One step at a time, Hiroshi Jackson,” he chided himself. “One step at a time.”
The forest through which they traveled seemed to go on forever. Around mid-morning, the ground started sloping upwards slightly and the trees thinned out. Then, they came to a place where steep cliffs rose up to either side of them. Warped shrubs grew up between the rocks that lined the cliff walls. The path between the walls was narrow, only wide enough for two people to walk abreast.
The cliff walls were so high Hiroshi could only see a dark blue sliver of sky over their heads. Walking in such a tight space, it was hard to talk, so they walked in silence.
When they’d walked for what seemed like forever, Abraham Moses, who had been walking just in front of them, raised his hand signaling a halt. The two men he’d sent ahead were standing in the trail waiting for him. Those who followed closed up.
“Why are we stopping?” Hiroshi asked.
Moses pointed ahead.
“Trail drops down into a valley just up ahead,” he said. “We have a sentry post. To make sure there are no surprises, when we come back, we enter in a tight group so the sentry can get a head count. Since we’re two more with you two, it’s important we stay together. Okay, let’s move up.”
Without warning, a broad-shouldered man brandishing a spear stepped into the path, blocking their way.
“Welcome back, Abraham,” he said in a booming voice. “Who that you got with you?”
“Couple of strays from that hell hole New Liberty,” Moses said. “They run away from home.”
“Well, y’all go on through. They’ll be serving up lunch pretty soon.”
“Will there be more venison?” Clementine asked.
Moses, Hiroshi and the other men laughed. Clementine looked puzzled.
“Welcome to Freeland,” Moses said.
16.
Hector Cruz was furious.
He was more than furious, he was apoplectic. His face was red, his eyes were red, and he sputtered when he wasn’t choking on his on phlegm.
“What do you mean they got away?” He roared. “I want the monitors who let them escape executed immediately.”
Gravius-One looked across the round table at the Chairman. His dark face felt hot and his stomach bubbled with barely suppressed anger.
“That won’t be necessary, citizen,” he said. “The proles killed them before they escaped.”
Cruz looked at the monitor commander with his mouth agape. His lips quivered.
“What kind of people do you have in your organization, citizen?” he asked when he’d regained his composure to a degree. “Two armed monitors can’t arrest one eighteen-year-old prole?”
“The officer in charge of the station sent two new men.” Gravius didn’t really fault the man, but an example would have to be made. “They made the fatal assumption that the prole would be intimidated. He wasn’t, and moreover, he was not alone. The two proles attacked and killed them. The officer who sent them will be severely disciplined.”
“The prole Hiroshi Jackson has to be caught and brought to me.” Cruz pointed a finger at Gravius.
“That, I’m afraid, is impossible, citizen. The two proles made it through the fence. I had men searching for them as far as the place where the river turns north, but their trail disappeared. If they haven’t been killed by wild animals, the Wild Ones will have killed them.”
Cruz slapped a hand against the dark wood of the table top, causing Gravius, who was not given to being easily startled, to flinch in his chair.
“I don’t want excuses, Citizen Gravius, I want results. I want that prole, and even if it means entering the Wild Ones’ territory, you will find him and bring him to me. He’s not dead. I would know if he was dead.” He uttered the words with such cold determination Gravius felt a hollow sensation in his chest.
“He’s gone completely insane,” he thought. “And, that makes him even more dangerous than usual.” He stood, his hands at his side, looking down at Cruz, and making an effort to keep the fear he felt from showing. “Very well, citizen,” he said. “I’ll send another search party out.”
He inclined his head a fraction of an inch, just enough so as not to seem insubordinate. Cruz waved a hand as if he was brushing at an annoying insect, dismissing the monitor commander without a word.
17.
Freeland
As they came over the hill, Hiroshi looked down at the valley spread out before them. Freeland wasn’t at all what he’d expected.
Surrounded on all sides by medium high, mountains with rounded tops, the valley was wide, but even longer, stretching into the distant haze. Hundreds of buildings of all sizes, with streets and paths in a neat grid, was a few hundred yards from where the path downslope from where they stood. Well-tended fields covered the rest of the valley. As they came off the slope onto the path, which Hiroshi could see now was beaten earth, he noticed the variety of people in Freeland. Children ran and played among the houses, which were mostly made of rough-hewn logs and roofed with shingles made of slabs of bark. Elderly people sat on chairs or logs near the houses, watching those children who were too young to frolic, sewing, or just gazing at the sky. Hiroshi had never seen people who were not engaged in some form of productive activity. He had, in fact, never seen people of such advance age before.
In the few fields they passed, he noted that both men and women worked side by side. They wore various clothing, not the drab singlesuits he was accustomed to. But, what struck him was the absence of monitors ensuring that the work was done.
“Why are the workers scattered about so?” he asked. “Wouldn’t it be more efficient if they worked together?”
“Oh, they do get together when there’s a big job,” Moses said. “Like harvest time in the grain fields, or when a barn or corral has to be built. But, for the rest of the time they work their own property.”
Hiroshi stopped so suddenly, Clementine bumped into him.
“People here own property?” he asked.
“Of course,” Moses said. Then his eyebrows lifted. “Oh, I forgot. They abolished private property in New Liberty long before you were born. You know, we tried communal property here in Freeland at the start, but it didn’t work. When everyone owns a thing, no one assumes responsibility for it. We found that when people have some sense of ownership, they work harder and produce more.”
Clementine looked around at the workers in the field nearest them. She put her hands on her hips.
“This seems awful inefficient,” she said. “If no one is making central decisions on the work to be done, how do you make sure enough of what you need is produced?”
“Oh, people figure it out, young lady. The farmers grow crops based on the previous year’s demands, usually producing a bit more as a cushion, bakers bake enough bread to satisfy current demand, tailors make clothing from orders from customers, and so on. It’s not one hundred percent efficient, but then again, people aren’t machines. One other advantage we have is that with the average temperatures above what they were in the past, we can grow crops year round.”
She shook her head, not really comprehending what Moses was saying. It was all so strange. It was strange to Hiroshi too, but he had at least read about such economic systems in some of the hidden books. It had been called market capitalism, a system where production of goods and services was based upon demands from consumers. In the United States, that system had replaced a more feudal economy based upon indentured servitude and slavery. In New Liberty, that system had been brought back with a vengeance.