Another hand went up. Dave saw that it was Al. He hadn’t known that he was also coming here after a hard day of sailing.
“Professor Aberhardt,” said Al, “from my knowledge of history before the twentieth century, with the possible exception of France under Napoleon, there wasn’t a single government that did not overtly or tacitly align itself with religion. In the twentieth century, those governments that were blatantly atheistic were, if anything, much more tyrannical and brutal than governments that had gone before. Don’t all the misdeeds in our history that you are casting at the feet of religion really constitute a problem that finds its source not necessarily in religion but rather in human nature?”
Aberhardt leaned over the podium and glared at Al as he gathered his thoughts. “Sir,” Aberhardt began at last, “tell me; were you raised in a traditional family?”
“My mother and father have stayed together to raise me, if that’s what you mean,” said Al. “In fact, they’re still married.”
Aberhardt smiled. “I’m afraid, young man, you bear the marks of your prejudiced upbringing. It’s precisely these kinds of pathological delusions that we’re seeking to rectify and eradicate. It’s not really your fault. You had no choice. It’s so very difficult to break out of the shackles of the ideas forced upon us while we were children and unable to defend ourselves intellectually. To escape the kind of indoctrination that you’ve experienced in your family is precisely why we strive to eliminate the twin evils of religion and the nuclear family. I believe there was a question at the back.”
There were more questions, but Dave didn’t listen to them. He admired the courage Al had shown in asking his question, even if Aberhardt had made him look like a fool. But was Aberhardt right? Were Dave’s thoughts really the consequence of parental manipulation? Were the love and appreciation he felt for his parents only the products of conditioning that occurred when he was unable to defend himself?
Chapter 7 Botany Bay
On Monday morning just after dawn, a knock came on Dave’s door.
“Rise and shine!” said Al cheerfully as he looked in. “Linder has decided we’re crossing over to the mainland today.”
The announcement gave Dave a shot of adrenaline. He was wide-awake in the twinkling of an eye.
“Have they scouted a landing site for us yet?” Dave asked.
“Yes,” said Al. “Linder went over yesterday in one of the Boston Whalers with some of the naval personnel, and they’ve chosen a preliminary site for the colony, almost directly across from us. Why don’t you fellows head down to the wharf? I’ll meet you there after I rouse the others.”
After a hurried breakfast, the two roommates finished packing their belongings, carried them down to the wharf and stowed their supplies in their dinghy. Dave sat on the wharf, dangling his legs over the edge, waiting for the others to arrive. The morning was bright and clear—ideal for sailing. With a gentle wind blowing out of the north they ought to make the crossing without much trouble.
Al and the others arrived and stowed their gear. A truck came with additional supplies for each dinghy.
When this cargo was offloaded, Linder gave the signal to embark. The dinghies began to leave the quay in single file.
With the Boston Whaler for support, Dave watched as the first of the 180 sailors from Socrates dormitory set off to cross the channel. He sensed everyone’s spirits were high. Maybe they would go down in the history books as the ones to make momentous discoveries in this new world.
Soon it was their turn. Glenn cast off as Dave raised the sail, and Al steered them away from the quay to take their station in line. Their dinghy, The Pitch and Toss, was heavily laden and sluggish. Nevertheless they were able to get out of West Harbor easily, clearing Lighthouse Point without tacking. Even though the day was fair, the swell was rougher than any they had previously encountered. The name chosen for their boat took on a connotation none of them had intended. Both Glenn and Al became seasick, and they alternated between leaning over the gunwale and lying miserably on the mound of supplies. Dave, who was less prone to motion sickness, was left by himself to keep the dinghy on course.
They completed the crossing in about two hours. The Boston Whaler, worrying them like a dog herding a scattered flock of sheep, led them to a single island at the foot of a shallow bay. The island was shaped like a boomerang, with the apex pointing west toward the mouth of a creek. At low tide, the creek flowed around the island on its way to the retreating sea. The drop-off on the seaward side of Boomerang Island, as they named it, was steep enough that the fleet of boats could be moored there without grounding as the tide ebbed. The anchorage wasn’t ideal, since the boats were exposed to an east wind, but it seemed the best that the coast had to offer.
The armed naval personnel scouted the small island and took up guard positions. The colonists in turn unloaded supplies as rapidly as possible, and late in the afternoon, the Boston Whaler escorted fifty dinghies back to Halcyon. Al was taking their dinghy back, and as Dave said goodbye to him, a pang of fear gripped his heart. There was no escape. A door had closed. They were committed. With about 130 colonists and only ten dinghies, only a few could retreat back to the safety of Halcyon if disaster struck.
Dave didn’t have long to think about the danger, since they had to work quickly to set up their campsite. After the navy personnel chose a command center in the middle of the island, at the apex of the boomerang, Linder allotted the rest of the expedition four campsites that were arranged in a ring around the naval camp. The naval personnel worked efficiently and set up a solar powered communication center that would provide contact with Halcyon.
As Dave set up their tent, he was surprised to realize that the vegetation here was much like home. I’m forgetting this is a new world. It’s so similar to home; I was thinking I’m just on another camping trip.
He looked at the vegetation with new eyes and recognized ash, beech, and oak trees. There were also plants Dave didn’t recognize, but he wasn’t sure if they were truly alien or simply less familiar plants from home. Near the shore was a low shrub, with shiny leaves like holly and beautiful red berries. He looked at it briefly. It had a pungent but not wholly unpleasant smell.
The tents erected, Linder and the naval commander, Glenn MacDonald, called everyone together. MacDonald addressed the group. “I want to stress that we need to be very careful in this new environment. Although many of the plants appear familiar, we’re going to take no chances. We’ve brought two dogs and several rabbits along, and they’ll try all of the local food before we do. After the food passes that test, a small number of volunteers will try the food for a week before we inflict it upon the whole company. Any questions?”
Dave thought wistfully about the departed boats.
__________
But his fears appeared unfounded. Game was plentiful, and the dogs didn’t get sick. They explored the immediate area of the mainland near the island. They followed a creek for several hundred yards into the abundant woods that surrounded Boomerang Island. A plant, which looked identical to the potato plant from home, grew in abundance in the sandy soil along the bank of the creek. The rabbits thrived on it.
The next few weeks passed quickly as they built their colony, which they named Botany Bay. Daily hunting expeditions and the abundance of white-tailed deer meant that meat was never in short supply. But the deep, narrow creek that flowed around Boomerang Island made crossing to the mainland difficult, even at low tide. So the colonists constructed a bridge over the creek and tidal flats. Dave worked long and hard driving wooden poles deep into the mud and securing the bridge to the supports.
Even though they had seen neither natives nor dangerous carnivores, Macdonald insisted they build a stockade with a fifteen-foot palisade on a promontory overlooking the creek. After Dave’s team finished building both the bridge and the stockade, they moved on to build other structures: smokehouses, dormitories, and a large dining hall. Botany Bay began to look like a small villa
ge.
Every Friday all the radios would be tuned to Blackmore and Hoffstetter’s joint broadcast from Halcyon. The colonists were heartened to hear that not all of the force field equipment had been destroyed, and Hoffstetter spoke confidently during the broadcasts of having them home by Christmas, or by next summer at the very latest. Everyone’s spirits lifted at the prospect.
By the time the stockade was complete, Botany Bay had already grown to almost 600 inhabitants, as more and more recruits from the dorms Schopenhauer and Socrates were trained to sail and then ferried to the mainland.
Most of the trees in the vicinity of Botany Bay had been felled and used in the construction of the first buildings. A cry for wood from Halcyon had also been received. Clive Henderson, now the Governor of Botany Bay, decided that a lumber camp was needed farther up the creek. It could be used to supply logs for the construction of a large cookhouse on the mainland, and also to meet Halcyon’s need for wood. Dave was chosen to join the construction crew for this new undertaking.
Chapter 8 Happy Berries
It was early in July before Dave returned to Botany Bay. Although late in the evening, a party was in full swing around the campfire at his base camp on Boomerang Island. Someone had brought a keg of the new Halcyon beer to the mainland, and the revelers were consuming the beer with great liberality.
“What’s going on?” asked Dave, taking a seat beside Darryl Wyndhurst, one of the fellows from his camp.
“This is what’s going on,” said Darryl. He held out a handful of beautiful red berries, smaller than cherries but the same deep red color. “These are all the rage! We call them ‘Happy Berries.’ Try some.”
Dave experienced a sense of misgiving, yet he also felt the weight of months of deprivation that made him yearn to try something daring and adventurous. He knew if he thought about it, he would talk himself out of trying the berries. In a rush he ate them before he could change his mind. He was disappointed and relieved at the same time. They were bitter. “They don’t really taste very good,” said Dave.
“Just wait awhile and you’ll see why we like them,” said Wyndham. “How about some supper?”
As they crossed the bridge to the mess hall, Dave felt his heart begin to race. He was feeling warm, but there were other changes too, feelings he wasn’t used to but which weren’t entirely unwelcome. Self-confidence, wellbeing, and power seemed to rise up within him. No obstacle seemed too hard to overcome; no task was beyond his reach. He had never felt so positive about their future. The venison they ate for supper tasted particularly delicious, Dave thought, and he really enjoyed the stimulating company of his comrades.
That night as he was lying on his bedroll, sleep would not come, even though he had worked very hard that day. The power and euphoria he had felt after consuming the berries had worn off by midnight, and he missed it. He got up and began to search for more of the berries along the shore. He found one of the bushes by the pungent smell, but as he searched feverishly for the fruit, he realized to his consternation, that it had been stripped bare. He swore, and began to run along the shore, heedless of the branches slapping at his face. Suddenly the smell of the Happy Berry bushes became strong. Down on his hands and knees, he wormed his way through thorn bushes until, scratched and torn, he found himself in the middle of a patch of Happy Berries. Eagerly, with shaking hands, he felt along the branches of the bushes until he found some berries. He tore them from the branch and shoved them into his mouth. He gave a contented sigh as the feeling of euphoria and power descended on him again.
Dave felt well, very well indeed. He made sure he always had a supply of Happy Berries, so that he never went through that episode of craving again. He would eat some berries just before bed and be content all night long. Not that he slept more than four hours at a stretch. He found that his strength had increased and he was able to chop wood at a prodigious rate. The days seemed to fly by.
__________
Late in July, Dave was walking through Main Street in Botany Bay after a week’s work at the lumber camp when he heard his name called. Al ran up and clapped him on the shoulder.
“Dave, I heard that you were coming back today, and I’ve been waiting for you!”
“Al, how are you?” asked Dave without enthusiasm.
Al looked at him closely. “What’s wrong with your eyes?” asked Al.
“What do you mean?” asked Dave.
“Your eyes—they have an orange tinge.” Al looked grave. “You’re a Happy Berry user!”
“So what if I am? What is it to you?
Al walked beside him in silence for a few moments. “I came by to tell you it’s your turn for furlough in Halcyon. We’ll be managing a raft of logs, and I asked to take you along with me when we take a load of logs back home.”
Dave’s wave of anger gave way to excitement at the prospect of getting back to Halcyon.
Why do I have such a short fuse? Al meant no harm.
Dave couldn’t bring himself to apologize. The best he could manage was an affable “When do we leave?”
“We leave with the tide. How soon can you be ready?”
“Give me fifteen minutes. I have most of my stuff on my back already.”
When Dave arrived at the far side of Boomerang Island, Glenn, Al, and Floyd Linder were in deep conversation. When they saw Dave they dispersed and made ready to depart. Al helped Dave on board, and then Al and Glenn pulled the gangplank on board the raft. Linder attached a red handkerchief to a short mast and then waited until their tow would come. After about ten minutes, the fixed keel sailboat Goin’ Places hoisted sail and passed them a line for towing. When the raft gathered way, the friends collected near the steering oar at the stern of the raft, and chatted.
Dave opened his pack and pulled out a bag of Happy Berries and popped several into his mouth. The juice began to dribble down his chin.
“So you’ve learned about Happy Berries, have you?” said Linder.
“Oh, you know about them?” said Dave defensively.
“Yeah,” said Linder. “But don’t let the chancellor catch you using them.”
“What do you mean?” asked Dave, a cold hand touching his heart. “What do Happy Berries have to do with the chancellor?”
“When the chancellor heard about them, he outlawed them on Halcyon, on pain of imprisonment. We’re supposed to be enforcing that edict at Botany Bay, but His Honor the Governor is turning a blind eye.”
“I personally think O’Reilly is right, that we ought to be very careful with anything that addictive. If history has taught us anything, it’s that these wonder drugs that seem too good to be true generally are,” said Al.
“What right does O’Reilly have to tell us what do?” shouted Dave. He regretted his words right after he said them and put his head in his hands.
“Dave,” said Al gently. “You know you’re in trouble. You’ve got to stop using them!”
“But I can’t!” said Dave, the misery of the last few weeks crowding in on him.
Al looked at the other two. “Dave, you’re going to hate me, but we’re your friends and we’re going to help.”
Before Dave could react, Al went to Dave’s knapsack, grabbed the bag of Happy Berries, and flung them into the sea.
“Nooo!” said Dave, jumping up. The bag disappeared astern and sank.
Dave reacted instantly. In a rage he flung Al onto his back, pouncing onto his prone body. Floyd and Glenn grabbed Dave from behind. It took all their strength to get him off of Al.
When Dave had calmed down and regained his self-control, Al offered him a couple of tablets. “What’s this?” asked Dave.
“It’s sedovarin. It’s about the only thing we’ve found useful at Halcyon for getting people off the Happy Berries when we lock them up. It takes away the cravings until you can handle them yourself.”
Resigned, Dave took the two pills with a swig of water. “This was a setup,” he said.
“Yes, I’m afraid so. Glenn told us ab
out your condition. We figured there was nothing we could do while you were at Botany Bay, so we waited until our chance came, and your furlough seemed like the golden opportunity.”
Dave didn’t know whether he should be furious or thankful. In one sense they’d violated his personal rights, but if he were honest with himself, had he seen Glenn hooked, he probably would have done the same thing.
As the sedovarin took effect he fell asleep. When he awoke, he saw they were on the west shore of Halcyon and a Boston Whaler was hauling their raft close to shore. He could feel his desire for Happy Berries, which should have been overwhelming now, as a dull ache. He fought against the sensation. As he thought about the last few weeks and confronted the thought of facing Uncle Charlie, he was overcome with shame.
They anchored the raft so the logs could be hauled away at low tide. Having completed their task, the three friends waded ashore in the surf, and decided to walk back to campus rather than travel with Goin’ Places to the harbor.
The changes that had taken place in Halcyon in the past few months took Dave by surprise. For one, the food supply had stabilized. For another, the chemical engineers had managed to make alcohol from fermented stock. This had been one of the first manufacturing processes they had brought online at the Halcyon chemical engineering pilot plant. The intent had been to process the alcohol into fuel, but it seemed that a significant fraction of the precious distillate was making its way to the campus pubs. As Botany Bay inhabitants on furlough, the three friends had received free passes to a local pub to sample some of the new Halcyon brew.
The Halcyon Dislocation Page 6