The Halcyon Dislocation

by Peter Kazmaier

  They stopped short. Ahead of them a small wooden bridge had been built to cross a gap in the path.

  “What do you think?” whispered Floyd.

  “It looks like one of ours,” said Al, examining the ax cuts on the wood and the wooden spikes holding the timber together.

  “They used ironwood for the spikes,” continued Al.

  “Maybe there’s one of our lumber camps ahead,” said Dave hopefully, as he crept up from behind to join them.

  They proceeded even more cautiously now. When they rounded a bend to the left, they were astonished to see an earth¬and¬rock dam, about thirty feet high, spanning the narrow gorge and holding back the water to form the long narrow pool they had encountered. They examined the dam wall but could not see where the water left the pool, although the sound of a waterfall could be heard as a muted roar.

  Examining the dam in more detail, they saw that it was crowned with a wooden palisade. The path climbed up the north side of the gorge and then crossed a sheer wall of rock into the palisade’s rough wooden gate over a drawbridge. The drawbridge was drawn up.

  Suddenly, a voice boomed from behind the palisade, “Who are you, and why do you disturb our tranquility?” Stunned, they did not answer immediately, so the voice shouted the question again.

  “We are explorers sent out by the colony of Botany Bay. We have been attacked, and several of our members have been killed. We are in need of assistance,” shouted Floyd.

  There was no response for some time. Finally, a head appeared above the wall of the palisade and said, “Approach the drawbridge so that we can have a look at you. Leave your weapons behind.”

  Al and Floyd gave their rifles to their companions and then walked up the steep switchback and approached the wall.

  “I know you. You’re Al Gleeson, aren’t you?” said the voice. The face was hooded in shadow. “Gleeson, drop all your weapons and approach the drawbridge. The rest of you stay where you are.”

  After getting Floyd’s agreement, Al gave his pack, sword, and knife belt to him. Then, holding his hands palm outward, he approached the wooden platform opposite the drawbridge. The drawbridge rumbled down, and the gate behind it opened. Al walked in, the gate closed, and the drawbridge was drawn up.

  “Now what do we do?” Dave asked Floyd as he rejoined them by the pool, bringing Al’s equipment.

  “We wait,” said Floyd.

  “But what if they hold him hostage?” asked Tom.

  “We wait!” said Floyd, ending the conversation. As if to emphasize his point, he broke out some food and passed it around to the others.

  After about an hour, the drawbridge lowered again, and a young, fine-featured, buckskin-clad man came out. He had a friendly face and was sporting a thin scraggly beard. When he spoke, it was clear that his was the voice they had heard earlier.

  “My name is Mark Forsyth,” he said, inclining his head courteously. “I’ve come to bid you welcome as guests. Your companion, Al Gleeson, is known to our bishop. Al has told us of your need and the perils you have encountered, and our bishop has asked me to extend to you the safety of our hearth, even though it’s not our custom to provide entry to strangers. Nevertheless, our rules require that you leave your weapons at the door. Will you comply with this request?”

  “Strangers?” said Floyd, sounding exasperated. “You know us from Botany Bay. Even though I didn’t know your name until today, I recall seeing you in the settlement.”

  “I also recognize you, of course,” said Forsyth. “But we are a religious community that values our privacy, and we fear the interference of Halcyon. You didn’t answer my question. Will you relinquish your weapons?”

  “Can we speak to Al Gleeson?” asked Floyd.

  “If you wish,” said Forsyth, seemingly untroubled by the request.

  At a signal from Forsyth, Al came down and joined them on the path.

  “They want us to give up our weapons,” said Floyd.

  Al’s face was flushed and his eyes were hard, yet his words were calm and controlled. “These people are Dalyites, followers of Dalrymple,” said Al. “I believe them to be men of their word, and since they have extended hospitality to us, we need not fear any treachery. However, it’s very unusual for them to extend hospitality to strangers. Furthermore, they’re afraid of something, so I can’t guarantee how easy it will be for us to leave.”

  “Are you all right? Are you sure?” asked Floyd.

  “Yes, I’m sure, Floyd. I’m upset because I met a group I really didn’t want to meet—not because our company is in danger.”

  Floyd put his hand on his chin and looked out over the pond at the palisade. Finally he said, “We’ll worry about that later. Glenn needs to rest in a safe place. All this jostling and lugging him about is killing him. Besides, I don’t think we could have carried him much farther. Let’s do it!”

  They crossed the drawbridge and found themselves on a wide wooden platform. In the middle of the platform was a gap where they could see the sluice gate through which the water from the creek poured into the valley beyond. An arch constructed of huge stones formed the end of an underwater drain for the pond.

  The sluice had been constructed with great care from cut stone. The stonework was old and well worn by the water plunging through the rock channel and falling another thirty feet to the valley floor. A large wooden tripod made of recently cut wood with pulleys and winches could be used to lower heavy wooden beams into specially made slots in the stone to reduce the flow through the underground channel.

  “We have labored day and night to complete this dam and palisade,” Forsyth said. “It was a vision of the bishop’s. Now we are safe and can live in peace. If we are threatened, we simply shut the sluice gate, raise the level of the water, and the pond will flood all the way to the end of the gorge. The path will become submerged, and access will be very difficult.”

  “Very well designed,” said Floyd, staring at the massive stones that made up the arch of the sluice and formed the slots for the sluice gate. Dave saw that Floyd had a puzzled look on his face. Dave was puzzled too.

  There’s no way these Dalyites built this! This stonework is too old. They only built the wooden parts. Why are they so afraid? Do they know about the lupi? Is there some other danger we don’t know about?

  Looking to the east, Dave could see they were in a crater about two miles in diameter. The southern half of the floor of the crater was dotted with small sections of tilled earth in a broad meadow. The northern half of the bowl, in contrast, was covered with trees and dense brush. The creek, which cascaded from the dam to the valley floor, made a broad loop north into the woods and then reappeared, winding through the meadow in broad sweeping curves, until it finally emptied into a lake at the southeastern end of the valley. The gorge was the only break in the circular crater wall. The lake had no apparent outlet.

  Forsyth, seeing the direction of Dave’s gaze and seemingly reading his thoughts, said, “The creek leaves the crater by an underground channel and emerges on the other side of the crater wall, eventually emptying into Botany Bay.”

  “Oh, so this is the same creek that empties into our bay!” said Floyd with excitement.

  “We’re still about three days away, but yes,” said Forsyth. “We’ve searched through your packs and given you what you may keep. Your weapons will be stored here,” he said, indicating a small shed, “but now you must come and meet the bishop. He’ll welcome you and pronounce his judgment.”

  That sounds ominous, thought Dave.

  Forsyth led them down a switchback path at the back of the dam. The dam had been built atop a natural rockfall, which had partially blocked the creek.

  They reached the meadow, crossed a sturdy bridge, and followed a well-traveled road to a tiny village, which was about a mile distant at the edge of the lake. The village consisted of only two buildings, a house-sized church, which the group identified by the large cross, which was attached to the outside, and a second, larger build
ing. This larger building was constructed of cut stone but had a new roof made of turf. One side had a low addition with a separate entrance and a stone well, identifying it as the kitchen.

  Approaching the two buildings, they saw that both were festooned with pine, cedar, and holly.

  “Didn’t you realize today is Christmas Day?” asked Forsyth, noting their curious surprise.

  “No!” said Floyd, astounded. “I’m afraid that because of the events of the last few weeks we’ve lost track of time.”

  “Your arrival couldn’t have come at a more propitious time. We’ll be celebrating our Christmas feast today.”

  They entered the large building adjacent to the church. The main room was square, with a big fireplace on the wall opposite the entrance. A Christmas tree, covered with strips of colored cloth and handmade wooden ornaments, reached nearly to the roof beams in the corner of the common room. An indefinable smell of Christmas in the air reminded Dave of his childhood, bringing with it a longing for family.

  The two carrying Glenn’s stretcher placed it gently on a bench. Glenn seemed in good spirits and looked eagerly around the room.

  Rough wooden furniture surrounded the fireplace. An elderly man with a shock of white hair, his hands behind his back, faced the cheerful fire. When he heard the group enter, he turned to face them, smiled, and approached them with his hands outstretched.

  “Welcome to New Jerusalem, and merry Christmas,” he said warmly, shaking each hand in turn. Coming at last came to Al, he said, “Welcome home, Al. Will you give me your hand?

  “I will not!” said Al with anger.

  The bishop, with a flush rising on his cheeks, turned back to the others and said in a faltering voice, “As I said, I bid you welcome,” then lapsed into an awkward silence.

  “New Jerusalem?” asked Dave.

  “Pardon me?” said the bishop.

  “You called this place New Jerusalem.”

  “Yes. I know it’s a little pretentious,” said the bishop, breaking into a smile once more, “but that’s what we call our little community.” He indicated they were to take seats by the fire, and then gently dismissed Forsyth with, “Thank you, Mark.”

  “My name is Dalrymple. By the grace of God I am the leader of this community. Before I tell you more about us, as a courtesy to me, your host, I would ask that you indulge me by answering a few questions about yourselves and what brought you here.”

  Seating himself facing the seven visitors, Dalrymple led the conversation to a discussion of their trip. Glenn obviously felt well enough to join in the conversation. Tactful, skillful, and thorough in his gentle interrogation, Dalrymple asked so many detailed questions it took the better part of an hour to get through them. At that point, two women came in with mashed potatoes and venison for lunch. One of the women left immediately, so they did not catch a glimpse of her face. The second woman served the meal. Though plainly dressed, she was exceedingly beautiful, and the travelers’ glances followed her every movement around the room.

  Seeing the stretcher lying in the corner, the young woman interrupted the proceedings.

  “Who is injured, if I may ask?” she queried.

  “Let me introduce Sister Sonja. She is our village physician,” said Dalrymple. The men greeted her warmly.

  “Glenn Thompson,” said Floyd. “He was bitten by a wolf.”

  “A wolf? I’d better have a look at that right away. He should also have rabies vaccine and a Virostat.”

  Sister Sonja approached Glenn, examined the crude bandage, and asked, “Can you walk?”

  “I can try,” said Glenn plaintively.

  “Then you’d better follow me.”

  Glenn staggered as he rose, and Sonja grasped his arm to steady him. He had a pained expression on his face. However, just before he disappeared, he turned back to his companions and beamed from ear to ear. Resuming his look of pain born with fortitude and endurance, he slowly, painfully, limped on Sonja’s arm into a side hallway.

  “I don’t think he’s going to be back anytime soon,” muttered Floyd, so that only Dave could hear.

  After the two had left, Dalrymple returned to his questioning. Finally, when they had described how they had arrived at Dalrymple’s valley, Floyd took the initiative.

  “We have told you our history since we left Botany Bay more than three months ago,” said Floyd. “Mark Forsyth told us that your colony is on Botany Creek and that you’re three days from the coast.”

  “That’s correct,” said Dalrymple.

  “In our turn then,” continued Floyd, “we’d like to know what you’re doing here, three days from the colony, in this secluded valley.”

  “That’s a fair question,” said Dalrymple. “I was—or, I suppose, am—Professor of History at Halcyon. In addition to my academic responsibilities, I’m a person of strong religious convictions, perhaps what you would term a ‘fundamentalist,’ although I just think of myself as a sincere follower of Christ. I believe our western society—long before the dislocation—was wrong-headed and moving to disaster. I’ve long wished to set up a small community, sheltered from the headlong rush to social and moral oblivion, but in our twenty-first century that dream seemed impossible to fulfill. My specialty was seventeenth century English history. I wanted to do what the Puritans did in coming to America—to set up a society, under God, free from the decay and manipulation of our modern age. Unfortunately, there really was no ‘America’ for me, until the dislocation.

  “In the first few weeks, I felt I ought to help O’Reilly get Halcyon on its feet, and perhaps I thought I could set up my society within the confines of Halcyon itself. However, as a faculty member I saw Blackmore positioning himself to take over, and God made it clear to me that Blackmore would tolerate people like me on paper, but behind the scenes he’d make every effort to drive us slowly to spiritual extinction. Under him it would become impossible for us to maintain our belief system. His people would slowly grind it out of us. If they didn’t succeed with me, then they would certainly educate our faith out of our children.

  “As a consequence, as soon as I could, I volunteered for Botany Bay. The people you see here came with me. At first we settled in Botany Bay, but as soon as I saw the Happy Berry users, I knew that big trouble was brewing on the mainland as well. In the Bible, 1 Corinthians, chapter 6, verse 12, the apostle Paul says, ‘All things are lawful unto me, but all things are not expedient: all things are lawful for me, but I will not be brought under the power of any.’” Dalrymple quoted the verse from memory without pausing.

  “We are forbidden anything that enslaves. My brothers and my sisters and I take that warning quite literally. We knew it applied to Happy Berries. I knew we had to leave, and so I looked for a way to get us out of town. Happy Berries only grow within a few miles of the coast, so I searched inland to keep my people away from the temptation. At first I volunteered for one of the lumber camps up Botany Creek, but the men of my community and I searched and prayed constantly for a place of seclusion, a sela¬hammahlekoth, or ‘rock of escape,’ if you like, such as the Bible’s King David found in the wilderness of Judah.

  “I followed Botany Creek, ranging farther and farther with each attempt. Finally, I found it ended at the edge of a steep rock wall in a lake. I was about to turn back when it struck me that there were no streams flowing into this small lake, only Botany Creek flowing out. It was then that I decided to climb the crater wall and saw the valley of New Jerusalem.

  “We’ve been here since the summer, and we’ve worked day and night to bring our colony into being. Our plan is to maintain our independence, to prevent contamination from the poison that is Halcyon, and especially to keep Halcyon away from our children.”

  “Where does that leave us?” asked Floyd.

  “I knew Al Gleeson through our meetings at Halcyon.” He turned to look at Al. “He’s a good and honorable man who speaks the truth, and on that basis I’ve chosen to trust you. If you come to believe what we believe
and seek to escape Halcyon as we do, we’ll offer to let you stay as members of our community. On the other hand, if you can’t do that, we’ll ask of you a solemn oath, that you’ll keep our location a secret when you return to Halcyon.”

  The interview had come to an end. Dalrymple called to a young man walking through the hall; spoke to him quietly, and then addressed his guests.

  “We have three double rooms in the bachelor quarters,” said Dalrymple. “Mr. Linder, please divide up your companions.”

  Floyd and Al conferred, and then Floyd divided the six remaining explorers into groups of two, pairing Dave with Al. Preparing to leave, Dave had just moved to pick up their gear when he heard Dalrymple ask to speak to Al. Dave overheard their conversation as he rearranged their gear.

  “I’m truly sorry about your brother,” said Dalrymple.

  “It had been more than a year-and-a-half since Thomas left your group,” said Al, anger permeating his voice. “And my parents hadn’t heard from him since he disappeared. Do you know why he left you, and left us?”

  “No, I can’t say that I do,” said Dalrymple quietly.

  “When we joined the Dalyites, you convinced us to abandon our friends because they were a bad influence. You cut us off from our family for the same reason. After we’d severed all these relationships, he and I did what you said because you were our spiritual leader. But we’re not stupid. Even the naïve, like Thomas and I, can eventually see the truth. You were manipulating us. I saw it first. When I left the Dalyites, my relationship to him, the closest friend I had, was also severed. He wouldn’t even talk to me. Then when he finally left, he didn’t just leave you, but he left his friends, his family, and his faith. And now he’s gone because of you and your cursed manipulation.”