Looking down at the trail leading from the Settlement I saw a horseman riding toward me. As he came closer I recognized the rider as Deacon Anslinger; one of the leaders of the Puritan party and a powerful member of the Council. A tall, black-haired, vigorous man of about thirty, he was wearing a broad-brimmed hat, a frock coat, riding breeches, and polished black boots. He looked rather like those pictures of Southern planters in advertisements for bourbon, and the whole effect would have been absurd except that Anslinger was the type of man whose clothes, while they might be unusual, were never incongruous. He also wore a gun-belt and a revolver under his frock coat; the only man in the Settlement who went armed.
He trotted his horse up the trail toward me, and I stood up. He must have seen me leave the Settlement, judged that if I was fit enough to walk this far then I was fit enough to keep on walking, and had come to tel me so. The best I could hope for were a few days to collect what things I had and perhaps try to persuade Judith to come with me.
Anslinger rode well and the coat of his black stallion gleamed in the sunlight. I am no judge of horseflesh; in fact I consider horses to be untrustworthy and foolish animals. An opinion I had kept to myself for they were used for much of the farm work, and Sherando had developed a breed which was proving popular with recreational riders in the surrounding Affluence. The horse which Deacon Anslinger was riding was an unusually fine specimen, even to my untutored eye. I said as much when he dismounted and came to join me.
That evidently pleased him. “A fine animal to look at, a valuable animal to use, Mister Smith.’5 (Judith had wisely given both of us names which were obvious aliases when we had arrived covered in blood and reeking of alcohol.)
“You’re starting to use horsepower here.”
“We are preparing to face the Wrath to Come. The Wratl against which our Teacher warned us. Preparing for the day when the oil wells will no longer pour forth their plenty, when the fusion reactors are silent, when the oceans no longer provide hydrides to power the machines. For the day when we return to healthy ways, to natural ways, to the ways of our forefathers.”
I glanced at him. “Do you really think things will become as bad as all that?”
“That is the future which the Light has illuminated for I hose of us who walk in the way of the Light. The future which is darkness for those who hide in Darkness.”
“You’ll be better prepared than most” I nodded toward the rich fields surrounding the Settlement “Fertility, Mister Smith! Fertility! An island of human fertility set in a once-fertile valley. Did you know that the Shenandoah was called the ‘breadbasket of the Confederacy’? We are going to restore it to its old richness.”
“The whole valley?”
Anslinger waved his riding crop north and south. “We are saving many farms from Washington dilettantes and developers by purchasing them from farmers growing too old to farm and without grandchildren to inherit We are paying very generous prices for the land surrounding the Settlement Surely you can see why, Mister Smith? You are an educated and intelligent man. You can read the future better than most outsiders.”
I agreed that the future was starting to look grim.
“Grim to those who have the insight to look and the courage to see.” He laid his hand on my shoulder. “Have you considered facing that future here with us?”
“Deacon, I’m not a Believer.”
“Anyone with a skill we need is welcome here. We hope that the stranger within our gates who remains as our guest will learn our way of life and be illuminated by the Light which shines upon us all.”
“Skill? What skill?”
“You are a fighting man. I do not know who you are nor whence you came. But you arrived with two guns and a bullet in your shoulder. Judith brought you here. She is an arrogant and willful woman, but I think she is a good judge of men. And men will be needed to defend Sherando.” -“Defend Sherando? Defend it against what?”
“Against the rabble who will try to take from us that which is ours.”
I assumed he meant that the locals might try to snatch some of the girls reputed to be fertile. “You think there’ll be more than the Sheriff can handle?” Sheriff Jenkins was an elderly and amiable man whose job was a sinecure. The Believers in Sherando were law-abiding by nature and religion. Those who proved otherwise were thrown out “Sheriff Jenkins needs competent deputies. Many more if we are ever attacked by a mob.”
“You’ve got over a couple of thousand able-bodied men down there.” I gestured toward the Settlement. “That should be enough to drive off any mob.”
“Two thousand males! Only a handful of men. The Settlements were founded by pacifists. They have the weapons but lack the will. And it is the Will which triumphs! We must prepare Sherando to face the dangers which lie ahead. The Council has made me responsible for those preparations. I have already started to do what I can. You see those bulldozers?” He pointed with his riding crop. ‘They are digging a lake. A reservoir for water storage through a dry summer. The soil they throw up will serve us as ramparts through a violent season.”
I began to see what he was getting at. “Ramparts can give an illusion of security, Deacon Anslinger.”
“That I know. What was it the Swedes used to say? Something to the effect that other nations defended their men with walls. The Swedes defended their walls with men. We must prepare to defend those ramparts with men. I have earth to form into ramparts. I have males who must be formed into men. But I need trained fighters, like yourself, to aid me in building up a defense force.” He slapped his crop against his boot. “You may be the kind of man I need. While your wound is healing would you consider aiding me in that? The Council and I would both be grateful if you do.”
I chose my words with care. “I may not be the kind of expert you want.”
“That we can only discover if you agree to demonstrate what you can do.” He walked toward his horse. “If you’re interested in staying on for a while as our guest, come to my office in the Council Chamber later today, after you have considered my suggestion. Then we will discuss it further.” He swung up into the saddle. “It would be wise of you to come!” He raised his riding crop in salute and went cantering back toward Sherando.
I walked slowly after him. Both invitation and threat were clear. I would be allowed to stay if I was willing to become his hit man, and if he liked the sound of what I had to say about defending the Settlement.
I really didn’t have much choice. I was certain that I was still being hunted by the Feds and I was in no shape to survive that kind of hunt. I had no refuge outside Sherando; I
Colt secure within it. And in any case what Anslinger was 11 iking me to do seemed something worth doing. These people would have to get together some kind of self-defense force to prepare for a worst-case outcome. I studied the layout of the Settlement as I walked toward it and began to appreciate that whoever had chosen this site had had something more than communal agriculture in mind. The hill on which Sherando had been built was a natural strongpoint in nineteenth century terms. And the kind of fighting likely to occur if Anslin-pcr’s scenario proved correct would be nineteenth-century lighting.
I went to discuss Anslinger’s proposal with Judith. I found her in the hospital cleaning instruments and, as was often the case these days, she was in a foul temper.
“So Anslinger’s offered you a job as one of his resident thugs, has he?” She threw down the instrument she was cleaning. “This is no place for youl There is Light here, but there is also Darkness. There is Good but also Evil. And you don’t know enough to tell one from the other. If you stay in Sherando you’ll be drawn into a struggle you don’t understand and destroyed not knowing why.”
A couple of nurses on the far side of the room were beginning to look at Judith, and their looks were not friendly. I signaled her to meet me outside on the plaza, and when she arrived I asked, “Can’t we go somewhere private?” I attempted humor. “What about a walk through the woods?”
&
nbsp; “Do you want to get me classified as a wanton woman? Whatever you have to say, say it here. That gaggle of so-called nurses can’t eavesdrop. But they can see I’m not seducing you!”
I glanced around. There was less privacy inside Sherando than there had been inside the Pen. The plaza was the main square and, paved with permac, it reminded me of a parade ground. To the south was the main entrance to the Settlement, to the north the Council Chamber, to the east the Hospital, and to the west the Bachelor Cloister. We were probably being watched from all sides but nobody was within earshot. “Judy, I’m thinking of accepting Anslinger’s offer.”
“I thought you escaped from the Pen to kill somebodyl Given up that idea now you’ve got a place to hide?”
“Damnation—I’m not fit yet I got wounded saving your ass. Remember?”
“And you remember I shafted myself when I brought you here. I saved your life. I could have headed for Sutton Cove. We’re quits in ass-savingl”
“Okay! Okayl But I have to stay somewhere until I’m fit to go. And I happen to like this place, even if your Believers aren’t all you cracked them up to be.” I looked into her face. “What’s got into you, Judy? What’s so wrong with Sherando? Why that sermon you gave me inside?”
She went from insulting to sullen. “I don’t like being hassled by Anslinger and his gang.”
“Hassled? Anslinger’s going to have to hassle a lot of people around here if Sherando’s going to survive. The Deacon’s not my ideal type, but he’s prepared to fight for what he believes in. Which is more than I can say for most of the draft dodgers hiding out in this place!”
We parted on that note and later that day, when I found Anslinger in his office, I told him I’d like to try to earn my keep and what did he want me to do?
He studied me across his large desk. “Was I right this morning? When I identified you as a professional soldier?”
“I was. Ten years ago.”
He stood up. “Come with me, and we’ll find out if you can help.”
We went through a maze of offices down into the basements beneath the building. “This was built as a refuge in the days when we feared nuclear war,” he explained, as we went along a permacrete tunnel and through three veralloy blast doors into what looked like an operations room. On one wall was a relief map of the Settlement and the surrounding terrain. He pointed to it. “Give me your ideas on how Sherando can be defended.”
“Against what?”
“At first—against an armed mob.”
“With what?”
“Say fifty riflemen. Plus a few rocket launchers and machine guns.”
I studied the map, intrigued in much the same way that one becomes intrigued by a casually encountered chess problem. Presently I said, “If you’ve got launchers, guns, and fifty riflemen you can drive off any mob.” I picked up a pointer and tapped the map. “A couple of launchers and two guns to cover the bridge at the bottom of the hill and that road out of the woods. Guns in the top windows of those comer buildings to sweep the approaches across the fields. They’re granite and as good as blockhouses.” I paused, trying to picture how a mob would probably attack the Settlement. “No local gang’s going to walk far. They’ll come in trucks and automobiles and park ’em in the fields over by the highway. So set iip your launchers and guns in the Settlement, ranged on those fields. Split your fifty men up into two squads. One squad you keep here as your reserve. The other squad, the best men you’ve got, are the strike force. Their job will be to move around the flank and brew up those parked cars. Most of the mob will go howling back when they see their precious wheels burning. Then you hit ’em with the ranged rockets and machine guns. The reserve squad makes a sortie and chases the stragglers. The squad who’s fired the autos cleans out the woods.” I stopped, suddenly realizing that I had not been solving a problem in chess but outlining how to kill the most people as economically and quickly as possible.
Anslinger laughed. “Very neat! Very neat indeed! Where did you learn that kind of thinking?”
“Special Strike Force,” I admitted. The reputation of the SSF had deteriorated since my day.
But Anslinger seemed to approve. “SSF eh? As an officer?”
“Yes.” An officer of the noncommissioned variety for most of my service, but made Temporary Lieutenant after all our real officers had been killed during one particularly bloody foul-up. I had held that commission long enough to be eligible for transfer to the Secret Service, so I could honestly claim officer status. And rank was evidently important to Anslinger.
He rubbed his hands. “Beside myself, you’re the only man in this Settlement who’s had any military experience. I was a GSOIII at the Pentagon.”
“Intelligence!” I sounded impressed, as he meant me to be. In fact a Staff job in Washington, while offering access to people in power, was hardly a source of combat experience.
“That was before I heard the Teacher. Before I saw the Light.”
I was impressed. A preacher who could convert an armchair warrior and a female neurosurgeon, individuals from opposite ends of the human scale, must have the fire of a John Knox and the persuasiveness of a John Wesley. One day I must make it my business to hear this Teacher perform.
Anslinger had returned to studying the map. “Now tell me how you would plan to drive off an attack by the National Guard.”
“The National Guard? You’re expecting the Governor to send in the National Guard?”
He shrugged. “He might—if the pressure on him built up. I hope not, of course. But how do you suggest we prepare for it in case he does?”
“The National Guard will come with tanks and gunships. Our modern citizen-soldiers know a lot about machines; not so much about fighting. And they dislike walking. They’ll be green fliers and novice tankmen. But they’ll still have gunships and tanks. And you won’t be able to stop those with machine guns and rockets. Even the National Guard have sintered veralloy armor now.”
Anslinger nodded. “Imagine we’ve got Strelas.”
“Strelas? You’ve got American Strelas?” They were the US equivalent of the one-man guided missiles the Soviets had used with such deadly effect “A few,” he admitted. “But nobody here knows how to use them. And if you use them wrong—”
“If you use the Mark Five wrong you’ll kill yourself and your buddies. Use it right—and no tankman or flyboy will stay around!”
“Do you know how?’*
I nodded. This was escalating into something much more complicated than planning to drive off some undisciplined mob. “Any mortars?” I asked hopefully.
“A few old 81mm.”
“They’re still as good as the best—if the gunner knows his job.”
“At present there aren’t any gunners. Maybe you can change that.” He eyed me. “And what if a unit of the Strike Force attacks us?”
“If even a squad of the SSF arrives, then you ran up the white flag pronto. You won’t have a chance. Twenty Troopers could handle fifty farmers—five hundred farmers—even if you were armed with nukes. Believe me—I know”
“I believe you. But I’m sure things will never get as bad as that.”
“If you start shooting down National Guard gunships you’re liable to have an SSF Section descend on you soon afterwards!”
“Maybe! Maybe!” Anslinger clapped me on the shoulder. “Now let’s go up to my office and arrange the terms under which we can profit from your military expertise.” As he led me back through the tunnel he added, “Please treat our discussion as highly confidential. And don’t repeat what I told you about our possible weapons. There are a lot of defeatists out there, naive old men still hanging on to power. I’ve pervaded the Council that some measures of defense are necessary, but they don’t yet appreciate how draconian those measures will have to be.” When Anslinger moved into his role of Sherando Combat Commander he changed both his siyle and his language. “Gavin, I’ll fix it for you to get a job you’ll enjoy!”
“A temporary j
ob.”
“Temporary at first. Of course.”
“I’m not a Believer—so I’ll want more than food and accommodation. Like you—I can see trouble ahead. And guys with my background will be in demand again.” I wasn’t really interested in anything more than having a safe place to recuperate, but if I was to be eased into the role of mercenary, then I must act avaricious.
He sat down behind his desk and studied me. “We will offer you a salary. Paid in gold. But there will be other perquisites available to those skilled outsiders who serve the Light by aiding the Settlement.”
“Other perquisites? Such as?”
He did not answer me directly, but toyed with a calculator on his desk as though the instrument might help him decide what manner of man I was. “I trust that the Light will fall upon you, and that you will decide to become one of us. But, whether you become a Believer or not, I hope that you will stay and marry Judith.”
“Marry Judith?” I stared at him, then laughed. “Judy will have something to say about that!”
He reverted from Combat Commander to Deacon. “Judith is an unusually willful woman. But she is fertile and intelligent. We do not want to lose her genes. Her husband will have to be a man with sufficient strength of will to reeducate her in the true role of womanhood. She must make up her mind to marry very soon. You may be the man to persuade her. And we are about to revive some of the old tried and true methods of bringing erring Believers back into the Lighted Way. Methods both physical and psychological. I hope that you will be able to persuade Judith to marry before such methods are needed in her case.” There was no humor in his voice or his eyes. “In this sterile age a fertile woman who remains unmarried is an abomination!”
I gave Judith a week to cool down from our last encounter, then I ran her to earth in the yard behind the hospital. She was washing bedpans.
“Some job for a surgeon!” I joked.
That was the wrong joke. She looked up at me and snarled, “I’ve been demoted to orderly. They’ll have me scrubbing floors soon!” She straightened and pushed back a lock of her Titian hair. “Those macho incompetents! They don’t know their ass from their elbow!” Her language had deteriorated with her status. “I tried to tell ’em some of the ways surgery’s advanced since Lister. So they tossed me out as OR nurse. And now I’m cleaning toilets to earn my keep.” She studied me and her green eyes were hard. “How’s the Deacon’s pet military adviser making out?”
Edward Llewellyn Page 12