Reconception: The Fall

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Reconception: The Fall Page 7

by Deborah Greenspan


  Teller sighed, and, pulling two chairs over, she sat by the bed and invited Evie to join her. "When Lissa was born, she was fine, a darling baby, fat and saucy, but after the first year she began to change. She became cranky and, I know it sounds funny, but she was hostile. She began to have these lapses of attention and it was almost like she wasn't there. Then she started having seizures, one worse than the last, and bit by bit…she became this ... ." she stopped speaking as a tear trickled down her face.

  Evie was appalled. She'd never seen such a thing, never imagined such a thing. She reached out spontaneously and took the mother's hand. "Oh, Teller. Isn't there something that can be done? Why can't she be helped? What's the diagnosis?"

  "We're not sure of what's caused her condition, but we think it may be that the residuals of pollutants and heavy metals in our soil are being taken up by the plant roots. Some of us seem to be more sensitive than others. This used to be prime agricultural land, you realize. That means it was heavily sprayed with pesticides and insecticides for more than fifty years. It's been subject to acid rain for long enough to turn it into a near desert and who knows what else? We do our best, but it's not always enough. Many of our children die this way. Others die of kidney failure, heart disease, cancer."

  "But we could help her!" Evie exclaimed. "We could do tests on her and on the soil. It might take some time but I'm sure something could be done."

  "Could you restore her brain function?"

  "Well, no, probably not, but she doesn't have to die ... "

  "But, my friend," the child's mother said softly, "she does have to die. We live on the edge of extinction. We can't afford to feed ... someone like her."

  "Well, at least we could do something about the soil so that others wouldn't be poisoned."

  "Oh, and can you do something about the air and about the ozone? Can you replenish the soil? It takes millions of years to create viable topsoil, don't you understand? Can you do something about the weather? Do you know how many times we've been nearly wiped out by flood or tornado? Do you know how many children I buried because we lost all our food, four years ago, and almost starved to death? We lost nearly half our population.

  You can't fix the soil, Evie, don't you see, it will take millenia for things to begin to right themselves. It's the kind of tinkering you're suggesting that's created the mess we're in. Only Nature can fix the soil, only Nature can restore the atmosphere and only Nature can create a more benevolent climate. It's not up to us."

  "Well, then what's the point? Why did I study so hard and for so long? To just forget about it and go live in that coffin I grew up in? What do I do with myself?" Evie was near tears. This was so unlike her. She was always calm and collected.

  "You do what we do. You live. You take what the Goddess gives, and you enjoy. You sing and you dance, and when tragedy overtakes you, you cry. That's life. You can't control life. You can only live it."

  "I understand your point. I really do. It's just so fatalistic. How do you live without feeling ... capable ... powerful. How do you just accept death?"

  Teller smiled. "To accept death is to accept life."

  Evie shook her head. "I don't understand that at all. I really don't."

  "Well," the dark woman said, putting her arm around Evie and drawing her from the sickroom, "maybe you will, someday. Now come, let's go see what Eagle is doing."

  Eagle was coming through the Garden of the Goddess with several other men and women hauling a wagonload of produce. Some of it would be prepared for their dinner that night, while the rest would be canned, bottled, or otherwise preserved. They'd been picking ripe vegetables and fruit since lunch and they were tired. When they reached the kitchen, others would take over, just as they'd taken over for the morning pickers.

  Striding up the path and into the clearing, the first thing he noticed was Teller and Evie sitting on the far porch, playing with some of the kids. Suddenly the scene erupted into a game of chase, and Evie ran headlong after one of the little boys. Eye of Eagle could see that it was Rain. They tore across the yard and stopped in the shelter. The boy climbed on the tables and began to hop from one to the next. Evie collapsed, laughing. On the porch Teller and the other children roared. Wind in the Leaves came out and spoke to Teller, who got up and followed her inside, and the children, unrestrained, raced to join Rain in his game.

  Eye of Eagle signaled Iron Hand to take the wagon around to the kitchens, and walked over to where Evie sat at a picnic table under the thatch watching the children play and trying to catch her breath. Slipping in beside her, he didn't say anything for some time. She looked at him and didn't say anything either. She felt the heat from his body. He was sweaty from working outside, but she didn't find the smell offensive. It was strong and pervasive, but oddly pleasant, and she liked how it mixed with the smell of the earth.

  "You're very beautiful," he said.

  Evie looked at him and smiled. "It's kind of you to say so."

  "No, I am not kind. I'm just truthful. You are, by far, the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and I'm sure my heart will break when you leave us."

  Evie's heart had started to pound when he sat down and now it raced away. She felt her knees go weak and perspiration in her armpits. "It will be hard for me to leave. I love it here. I'm more free, more alive, than I've ever been."

  Eagle, all of whose senses were sharp, could smell her response to him on her skin. He knew she wanted him, perhaps as much as he wanted her. "Well," he said, standing up, "I have to go and shower. Will you have dinner with me?"

  "Oh, of course," Evie replied.

  "No," he said, taking one of her hands in his. "I mean, just me."

  She had to look in his eyes then. They were compelling. "Yes," she whispered, "I'll have dinner with you."

  Smoky Mountains: 2128

  The view from the trail that wound through the mountains was dizzying, and Garret held tightly to Cashmere's reins. The air was hot and still. Red Deer said it felt like rain. They'd been traveling for days already without incident, and Garret was beginning to wonder if all that talk about wild men and cannibals was no more than talk.

  They had passed through several abandoned towns and had glimpsed the ruins of more than one city from the heights, but they hadn't encountered anyone. He'd been told that they would avoid any known inhabited areas. It was safer that way, but somehow he was disappointed. He'd wanted to see more than the landscape.

  He wondered how many people were left in the world, and asked Red Deer if he knew of any other settlements like that of the Mountain people and Red Deer had said, yes, there were many of them. Most had been established in the latter years of the 20th century, part of a grassroots movement toward a healthier lifestyle than that offered by the industrial world. These settlements had used organic, sustainable agriculture and solar energy to create small sustainable communities, some of which still survived. After taking the supplies to Southeast, they would stop and visit the Hill people.

  The caravan came to a sudden stop as Red Deer held a hand up, and they each reined in their animals. When Red Deer dismounted, Garret did the same. Behind him, Nightstalker was taking food and water from the pouch on his camel. Cries at the Moon, moving with animal grace, settled himself on a rocky outcropping and took a long drink from his waterbag. Garret selected nuts and carrots from his sack, and sat down near the other three.

  Food was not plentiful on the trail, though they had found some berry bushes, and last night Nightstalker had speared a large lizard, which they'd roasted over a fire.

  "How much farther do you think we have to go?" Garret asked when he'd finished eating, delighting once more in the new and exquisite tastes.

  "I think we'll be there in another week if we can keep up this pace." Red Deer replied, "Will they be ready for us?"

  Garret laughed, "Nothing on earth would prepare them for this expedition's arrival. They're expecting a van and a couple of New Scientists."

  "Hmmph," Nightstalker int
erjected. "Food is food. No matter who brings it."

  No one could argue that, so after a short nap, they got up and continued their journey. The sun was going down, and the afternoon was touched with gold when they reached the ruins of the six-lane highway that would take them to Southeast habitat. They still had a long way to go, but the going would be a little easier than in the mountains.

  "The road is in good shape. We'll make good time," said Garret.

  "Maybe ... maybe not," muttered Red Deer. "We'll camp now, and travel when it gets dark."

  "Camp? Why now?" Garret wanted to know.

  "Because the roads are dangerous during the day. From now on, we travel only at night. We'll take turns keeping watch while the others sleep."

  Garret, not the least bit tired, offered to take the first watch, and the others agreed. At first he enjoyed it, being alone with only the sounds of breathing for company, but he grew unexpectedly edgy as the others drifted off to sleep. Was that soft scratching a normal sound, or was something out there? Did the wind just rustle the leaves of a bush or did something else do it? The slight noises grew louder, and Garret didn't know what to do. Should he wake the others? He didn't want to look a fool if there was nothing there. Just another minute, he thought. Let's see if that shuffling sound continues ...

  East USA Habitat: 2128

  Morgan was getting impatient. It had been two weeks since they'd heard anything from the van. Garret and Evie should have arrived at Southeast days ago, and they still weren't there. What was taking so long? He wished they'd do the job they were supposed to do and get back to the habitat. He had things to do, and he didn't like waiting.

  He sat at his computer console, punching keys, his annoyance showing in every nuance of his posture. So close ... so close. All he needed was for those fools to return, so he could take the van out ... everything else was in readiness. Ripley had cracked the computer codes, Jersey—though he didn't know it—was resting comfortably in the palm of Morgan's hand, and the warheads were waiting. All he needed was to bring it all together.

  An idea flashed across his mind, almost too quickly for him to grasp. What was it? Oh yes—why wait? If we could build one van, why not another? Without giving it another thought, Morgan punched a notice up on the bulletin board suggesting that a new van be sent out to track down the first. Oh, he knew he'd encounter some opposition, but after all, when it came right down to it, who in world stood a chance against him? It might take a little work getting them to cooperate, but that's what he was good at. They'd be building him a van within the week.

  Foothills: 2128

  Before Garret could take another breath, it was already too late. Two dark forms jumped at him, the sun directly at their backs, hitting him like a hammer and knocking him over. Others jumped on the sleeping bodies of his companions and fought with them in a battle all the more fearsome for its suddenness.

  Garret was not a fighter, but he was strong and in good condition, and Nightstalker had given him a knife the night before. He threw off his attackers and pulled it from his belt, weaving it back and forth in front of him. One of the creatures lunged forward and Garret moved to intercept with the knife, but was jumped from behind by the other. They laughed as he struggled to break free, shaking the knife from his grasp and pinning his arms behind his back.

  Off to the side, Garret could see that Nightstalker was down, a terrible red stain spreading on the ground around him. Cries at the Moon was in single combat with another of the attackers, and Red Deer had killed two and was turning toward him. Red Deer's gun came out, blasting the one who held Garret's knife and drawing a bead on the one who held Garret. Before he could aim and shoot, Garret's head was pulled back and a knife was held to his throat.

  The creature spoke. His words were garbled, sounding almost but not quite comprehensible. "Ssmine," he said. "B'off!"

  Garret, a knife at his throat, and his face turned toward the sky, could not see Red Deer, but he did see the quick hint of movement and knew that in the next moments he would either die or be set free. Suddenly, the hand holding his hair jerked backward, and he almost fell, but the hand holding the knife to his throat dropped away, leaving a long scratch on his neck. He broke away; he was free.

  He crouched, retrieving his knife from the ground where it had fallen when the other man died, and twisted up to face his attacker. He and Cries at the Moon slipped knives into the creature at the same time. Garret stepped back, both horrified and exhilarated, and looked into Cries at the Moon's eyes in time to watch them flutter. As if in slow motion, the Mountain man slipped to the ground.

  In the next moment, Garret became a medical doctor, feeling for a pulse and checking respiration. The wound was deep in Moon's gut and would require careful tending as well as antibiotics to heal.

  "We must take him back," Red Deer said, his voice breaking the silence.

  Garret nodded, then got to his feet and walked over to Nightstalker. This knife had done far deadlier work, penetrating Nightstalker's lungs. As Garret knelt beside him, he could see bright red blood bubbling in and out of the wound. "Give me something to wrap this with!" he cried, and Red Deer knelt opposite him, holding out the sash which had been wrapped around his waist.

  Garret gently lifted Nightstalker, and Red Deer pushed the sash under him. If they could close the wound .... Garret applied pressure to it, holding in the life of this man who might one day have been his friend. Blood bubbled between Nightstalker's lips. Garret looked up in anguish at Red Deer, only to see that his own pain was multiplied a thousand-fold behind those dark eyes. Red Deer and Nightstalker had been friends for all of their lives.

  The two of them watched in silent horror as Nightstalker struggled with death and lost. Then Red Deer got up and walked off to be alone. Garret was left alone with his guilt. He had been on watch. He had waited too long. He was to blame for Nightstalker's death and Cries at the Moon's injuries. He vainly wished that it had been him instead. Only his own death would ever bring him relief from the pain of his own incompetence. He wished that Evie were here.

  After a while, Red Deer returned, and they silently buried Nightstalker. They spoke little as they planned their next moves. Their choices were few. They could both go back and bring Moon to safety, or they could split up. Garret chose to go on alone, and after they had split up the supplies, Red Deer turned to go.

  "Wait," Garret said, reaching out and grabbing Red Deer's arm. "I'm sorry, Red Deer. I should have woken you earlier. I should have cried out before they got so close! I ... "

  "Be at peace, my friend. The fault is as much mine as yours. I was the leader. I knew you were inexperienced. I ... but these are foolish words. Nightstalker was my friend. And now the Goddess holds him in her arms. Life goes on."

  Garret didn't know what to say to this, so he said nothing, just watched in silence as Red Deer walked across the dusty remains of the highway and mounted his camel. Cries at the Moon lay in a hastily made travois pulled by his mount. Nightstalker's empty saddle atop the third camel twisted like a knife in Garret's heart. He moaned softly as Red Deer guided the three animals into the rocky hills.

  Garret looked around at the emptiness, and held back a shudder. Except for the six camels carrying the producers, Cashmere, and several dead bodies, he was alone.

  Mountain People: 2128

  Evie was not dreaming about Garret. Drifting slowly toward the shore of wakefulness, she held tightly to someone else's hand and washed up upon the beach of reality. The potent magic of her dream shredded like fog in the morning light, and left her feeling strangely worried. She sat up.

  The room in the lodge was larger than hers in the Habitat. It was also brighter and sunnier; the air was fresher. She preferred it in every way. Except, of course, that Garret was not there. That, she realized, was the source of her anxiety.

  He'd been gone almost two weeks and would be gone for at least two more, so there wasn't much point in worrying. She examined that small ache at her center and w
ondered if this was what the words "missing someone" meant. She supposed they did.

  It was hard to know for sure, especially when Eagle spent so much time with her. She found him interesting ... no, exciting, and woke each day anticipating the time they'd spend together. Yesterday, he'd taken her down to the river where they'd skipped rocks over the water and talked until the sun went down.

  Today, he was going to take her hiking. They would explore the Garden of the Goddess, and he'd promised to show her some waterfalls downstream, which he'd said were spectacular.

  Enjoying time with Eagle was a new experience for Evie. Until they'd found the Mountain People, she had had no idea that another man for whom she might feel an attraction could even exist. Garret was her life. This was all so new and confusing!

  The knock on the door broke up her reverie and she jumped quickly out of the bed. "Just a minute!" she called. Wrapping the nubby blue blanket around her nakedness, she opened the door. Eagle leaned nonchalantly against the frame.

  Evie was thirty, far too old for blushing, so when she felt the heat in her face she was acutely embarrassed by her body's betrayal of her emotions. Flustered, she motioned for him to come in.

  Eagle smiled warmly and did so. "I'm a little early," he said.

  "No. No, I overslept. Just wait one minute. I'll get dressed." Grabbing her clothes, she stepped into the bathroom and shut the door, then leaned her forehead against it, trying to cool her blood. This is ridiculous, she thought. This is crazy. "I want him," a small voice muttered. "You can't," another replied.

  Ignoring them both, she quickly stepped into the cotton clothes Teller had given her, brushed her hair back from her face, and opened the door. Eagle looked very comfortable relaxing on her bed. Evie hesitated in the doorway.

 

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