by Hannah Ross
"Perhaps. Van Wullen Enterprises might find uses for the wild lands, but for now, they're not crossing the Boundary, just going for the fringes. Our department is supposed to facilitate the transition."
Norma came in with the tray, bearing two cups of coffee, a dispenser of sugar packets, and a platter of tiny gingerbread biscuits. "Thanks, Norma," Glenn said. "Now, remember those lab reports for Sandstone Steel? I need two printed copies, one for Mr. Hurst and one for me."
"Of course, sir," she said, scurrying away on her glittering heels. She was nothing if not efficient. Jordan and Glenn barely finished their coffees before the reports were in front of them. Jordan flipped through the pages, scanning the long columns of data.
"I figured you'd dive right in. You majored in sustainable ecology, after all," Glenn said.
"I guess things will be clearer once I make a trip to the construction site. I'll take a few samples, and I daresay the lab—"
"You?" Glenn looked surprised. "But JT, there's no need for you to do such tedious work all over again. It's all in the report. You just need to write your conclusion of approval. Your expert opinion, you know."
Jordan massaged his forehead, looking at the data again, trying to take in too much at once. "I don't work that way, Glenn."
"You're too meticulous. I mean, you always have been, and that's part of what makes you such a good professional, part of why I wanted you to come and work with me. I also needed someone I could trust, of course. But really, JT, that area is fine. I've been there myself. Didn't even wear a mask or anything."
"How long did you stay there? A couple of hours? A day? We're talking about people going to live there, and I can't sign a conclusion saying it would be safe until I've done some analyses myself. I can't function like a rubber stamp, Glenn."
Marshall didn't look offended, but a crease of frustration appeared between his brows. "Alright, so maybe that area isn't the healthiest place in the country. Not a place I'd choose for a hospital or a boarding school. But it's good enough for the Class B people who've known nothing but slums anyway. They ought to feel grateful for their jobs, their medical care, and their legal status, which many of them hardly deserve."
Once again, Jordan felt a hot flush of anger when he thought about his younger brother. Benjamin has no status at all. His birth was deemed an offense punishable by no less than exile from the Boundary. And even though he managed to survive, he's still a stranger to me. I wish I could be like Mom and Dad and Kate. They took to him right away. They're trying to make up for all the lost years, but I can't get past this feeling of loss. I can't reconcile my memory of the tiny, fuzzy-headed infant I once held and called brother with the grown boy, no…man who looks so much like me and Dad and Kate combined.
"I mean, if you want to travel to this place and take some samples yourself, fine," Glenn said. "I didn't bring you here to try and breathe for you, JT, but let me just give you a hint. My supervisor has a direct line to Andrew Van Wullen, and the Van Wullens are very involved in pushing this project along, so making it drag isn't in our department's best interests."
Jordan looked at the report again, at the crisp pages crawling with numbers that represented parts-per-million or billion of toxic or radioactive pollutants. Something at the bottom line didn't sit quite right with him, and he knew this was the time to be a man, to get up and say, Thank you very much, but I'm not having anything to do with this. But he thought of Allie's disappointment, and the baby, and the cramped little rooms that were barely enough for two, let alone three or four. And if he refused to play along, he knew Marshall would just find another man for the job. The Van Wullens always had their own way.
"Alright," he nodded, preparing to be mollified. "Let me just take a look at the numbers again so I can see if it all adds up."
* * *
Jordan made it home on the 17:30 train. Just as he was about to knock, the apartment door opened. Allie stood in the entrance, beaming. She wore his favorite dress, a knee-length blue silk that also did well as a maternity gown. As he leaned in to kiss her, he sensed delicious smells wafting from the kitchen.
"Grilled, mushroom-stuffed chicken breast in a sweet-and-sour marinade," she announced, the pride and excitement she felt crystal clear. "And au gratin potatoes and those special green beans like your mom makes."
Jordan stepped in and closed the door behind him. He noticed the apartment was especially tidy, and the kitchen basked in soft candlelight. "Wow, honey. When did you have time to prepare all this?"
"I got home around four today. I thawed the chicken fillets yesterday, and the marinade was quick to make. The green beans took a little time but I snuck a couple and they're sooo good. Just like your mom's. Come on!"
She took him by the hand and led him to the square little kitchen table. "Let's eat before the food gets cold."
In lieu of wine, a bottle of sparkling nonalcoholic apple cider stood on the table. Allie uncorked it and filled their glasses. "Well," she said as she placed a stuffed chicken breast on Jordan's plate. "How was your first day at work?"
With the candles, the delicious food, the festive atmosphere, and her obvious pride and joy at surprising him, Jordan couldn't find it in him to share his qualms and doubts with her. "It was fine. I'm only, you know, getting a little background on things." He tasted a piece of chicken. "Wow, this is really good!"
Allie added some potatoes to his plate. "You don't look very excited, though. What's the matter? Did Glenn go back on some of the terms he promised you?"
"No, no, it isn't that. It's a really good position. They're throwing in a nice car, and I have an office you'll love when you see it, but…" He took a sip of cider to buy more time. "…well, I just think something is off in an arrangement where the Van Wullens hire experts to monitor their own adherence to laws of health and safety. We're supposed to keep track of pollution levels, but we also need to keep our boss happy, otherwise we won't exist as a department for very long. So naturally, Glenn will root for reports that state everything is fine and the Van Wullens have no fault."
Allie's fork froze in mid-air. "So?"
"So essentially, the experts whose work it is to make sure that the Van Wullens don't fool with the acceptable pollution levels are not an independent entity, but subject to the whims of those on whom their livelihood depends. If something is seriously wrong, then, who's supposed to raise an outcry? Scientists who are funded by the enterprise itself?"
Allie's expression turned forbidding. "I hope you didn't say all this out loud at work today."
"No. Of course not. But I do wonder who's left to put their foot down if the Van Wullens overstep the law."
"Well, the government, who else?" It was evident she was finding it difficult to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. "I mean, the Van Wullens are doing everything legally. The department that hired you is part of the environmental law. It's good enough for Glenn Marshall and for everyone else, so how come it isn't good enough for you?"
Her voice trembled, and she blinked away a tear. Jordan, full of remorse, took hold of her hand. "Sweetie, there's no need to get upset. It's not like I'm going to confront Glenn about this. I'm just having these... these thoughts."
Allie twiddled her napkin. "These thoughts might just cost you this splendid opportunity to get on in life. Glenn Marshall isn't going to keep you on if he isn't happy with your work, even if you did share a college dorm for four years."
"But would you have me write and sign a report saying that a zone is safe and free of pollution, when it's not?"
"It isn't that. I'm sure it's no such thing. Even if there's a... a little blip of some kind, I'm sure you can sort it out."
Jordan squirmed, desperate for a way out of this conversation. "You have nothing to worry about," he finally said. "I'll do my job, and I won't try to get into Glenn's department politics. I'm running the lab. That's what I was hired for. Now, what's for dessert?"
27
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Tuesday, April 22
Barry smiled as they approached the city he once ruled. "Ahh. Home sweet home."
"I thought we would never get here," Ricardo said. "We've never been this far north."
"Hey, be thankful there were stretches of the old highways that weren't bombed out or overgrown. I think we did pretty good covering nearly two thousand miles in five days."
"And you say there are things worth taking? I hope for your sake, Oso, that it will be worthwhile."
"Don't worry, Rick. There are plenty of goodies just waiting for us. We'll make some nice dough when we're back in Tampico."
Ricardo's jaw clenched. He hated being called Rick, and Barry knew it, but he let it pass this time. "And you say you know the city well?"
"Better than anyone."
His friends wanted to bring the vehicles into the city, but Barry dissuaded them from the idea. "There have been earthquakes in the past. Trust me, you'd rather take a little walk than have a building topple down on your car and leave you unable to save your asses if you need to run for it."
The four-wheelers were left in the middle of a huge parking lot at the edge of the city. Barry and his four companions approached the ghostly mass of stone, glass, and metal in a respectfully slow walk. Ricardo whistled, looking around him. "Mierda! You don't tell me there are people living here, Oso?"
"Some must be left here still. But don't worry, they won't bother us. Turn on the flashlights, guys, it's getting dark."
As the sun set and the moon rose, the flashlights cast long, quivering shadows on the crumbling walls and cracked sidewalks. The steps of the newcomers echoed dismally off the dead stones as Barry purposefully led the gang onward, until he stopped by what had been, long ago, a small shop. Its front windows were smashed and the empty display case covered with dust.
"What the hell!" Barry yelled. "Give me one of those flashlights."
He ducked through the broken door and looked around the sales area. "Son of a bitch. They're all empty. Somebody beat us to it. Damn! But I wonder…" He walked through a door to a storage and work area and swung the light around. "Yes!"
"Yes what?" Ricardo said behind him causing Barry to jump.
"Shit, man! Make some noise when you come up behind someone. Look. The safes haven't been touched. That's where jewelers kept the loose stones and really expensive stuff."
"You know how to open them?"
Barry's head shook as he said, "No", but then he smiled before he added, "But I know some people who are going to open them for us."
"Maybe we just check the other stores. A city this big must have had many."
"Sure. But if someone raided this one, odds are they hit all of them. We can check, though. You want to do it now or have something to eat and get some sleep and start fresh in the morning?"
They headed outside where Ricardo explained what happened and what they were going to do. When his companions nodded their agreement, Ricardo turned to Barry and said, "Let's go back to the cars and set up a camp for the night."
"No. Tell the guys to come along. I know a better place."
He led them down familiar streets, which were as empty and desolate as he remembered them from two years ago, but more depressing now that he was used to the lively docks of Tampico. I can't believe this place was home for so long. Once he reached his old district, however, the streets looked tidier, with evidence of recent habitation in the form of swept piles of rubbish and improvised oil-lanterns hung from the old streetlamps.
"The old camp still stands, I see," Barry said with grim satisfaction as he glimpsed twinkling orange fires ahead. The tall palisade with its sharpened stakes on which he had so prided himself was gone. So much the worse for them, so much the better for me.
"Do you think we'll be welcome guests?" Ricardo asked.
A slow, dangerous smile crept over Barry's face. "Oh yes. You will be my guests. Listen."
Ricardo's expression shifted from curious, to doubting, to a grin of understanding as he listened to Barry talk. "And these people were your amigos?"
"Were being the operative word."
They approached the large outdoor cooking-fire unperceived until they were near its roar and blaze.
"Hello, friends," said a young man who was roasting a brace of birds above the flame. The others who were sitting around talking gathered to greet the newcomers. "Be welcome to our… Wait a moment, are you from these parts? I don't think I know you."
Barry stepped forward, so his face was illuminated by the orange glow. "Oh yes you do, Luc." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his Mexican companions raising their weapons.
Luc stared at him, wide-eyed with shock. "B-Barry. What are you… I mean, how did you—"
"No doubt two years ago you thought you'd seen the last of me, eh, Luc? But you should have known me better than that. Did you think you could just drive me away? I told you, you would regret it. You'd have done better to believe me."
Ricardo and his friends spread out around the fire, weapons in hand.
"Things are going to change from now on," Barry told the group of now frightened people. "You've had your little bit of freedom, but it's over now, and we're going to set up some proper order. The Bear is back in town."
28
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Friday, April 25
"Well, things went better this time," Priscilla said, pinching her milk-soaked T-shirt between thumb and forefinger.
Ben worked hard to keep a straight face. "Yes, I can see that."
"It was all going really well, you know. I had the pail full and all until the sneaky little bastard crept up from behind and butted me in the rear. Look at me now! Covered in… stuff." She grimaced as she picked off more stuff. "I think it's high time for him to go to the stew pot, Ben."
"I think so too, but Gabby says he ought to be a bit heavier. Come on. Let's go inside so you can get changed." As they walked, he added in a soft voice, "You know you don't have to do this, Priscilla."
Priscilla glanced nervously about. I have to talk to him about that.
Now that Ben knew her real name, he addressed her by it when they were alone. But around the camp, it was never easy to be completely sure they were alone.
"I like trying my hand at all these things. But for the life of me I can't understand how you figured it all out when you were just kids."
"It didn't come all at once, you know."
"And anyway, ugh!" She picked at her shirt again. "I don't see why you bother with goats. Cows are so much easier and give more milk."
"Yes, but goats were our first dairy animals. You can't imagine the thrill of having milk and cheese for the first time in years. They were Elisa's pet project, too. I don't want to think how upset she would be if she comes to visit and discovers we've neglected her precious goats." Ben grinned as he rolled his eyes. "Besides, they're useful to have around. We don't know how things will go for us with cows in the long run."
Ben waited outside, enjoying the sun while Priscilla changed. She returned, bearing a small object.
"What's that?"
"Honey candy. It seems Mac bought Gabby a candy thermometer last time he was in Resurrection Town and she's been dying to try it."
"How is it?"
"Try it." She held out a piece with one hand as she popped the other in her mouth.
"Mmm," they said together.
"The kids are going to love this," he said. "It's such a nice day. What say you to a little… um… fishing?"
She knew fishing was just a pretext, but didn't mind in the least. Any excuse that would allow them some time alone was good these days. "I'd love to."
As Ben turned to get a rod from the house, their excursion was thwarted by the arrival of a breathless visitor at the camp gates. He was flushed and panting and looked as though he ran all the way from the City.
"Carl!" Ben cried in amazement. "What are you doing here?"
"Came… here… to… warn you." Carl panted, lean
ing against the gatepost and clutching a stitch at his side. "About things… going on… in the city."
"Come on in," Ben said, offering him a supportive arm. "You look dead on your feet. Get inside and sit down and tell us what it's all about."
As they led him in, voices cried out, "Carl! Is it really you?" and "What are you doing here, man?"
Ben sat him down on a bench, and had a glass of milk placed in front of him. Carl drank long and gratefully and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.
"Milk," he said, looking drowsy. "You can't beat a glass of good fresh milk."
Once their guest was sufficiently composed, Ben asked, "What's the matter, Carl? Did something happen in the city?"
Carl's grim nod and "Oh yeah" doubled the number of anxious faces around him. "I'll bet you won't like to hear this, but… the Bear is back."
This statement drew a string of surprised and indignant exclamations. "What! How dare Barry show his ugly face again? It can't be! I was sure we'd seen the last of him two years ago!"
"Who's Barry?" Priscilla asked Ben.
"Not someone we care to mention, in the normal course of things."
"He's a bloody nuisance, that's what he is," said Tom White.
"What's happening in the city, Carl?" asked Mac.
"Barry showed up with those Mexican buddies of his and started doing what he knows best, bullying. Several camps fled the city at once. Now it's just us, the Monkeys, and Luc and his crowd."
"Why don't you leave, then?" Gabby suggested. "Let Barry have that crumbling ruin all to himself. We're much better off since we left the city, Carl. Really, once you take a look around you'll see how well we've done for ourselves in the camp. You could do the same. There's plenty of good land for the taking, and farmhouses you can reconstruct. Or you can build one from scratch."
"We'll all lend you a hand," added Mac.
"Thanks. That's not a bad idea at all. Only we can't abandon Luc and the rest of the Bears. Barry is kind of… well, he's holding them hostage."
"He's what?" Ben spluttered.
"You know how pissed off he was with all of us for driving him away, Ben. But that's nothing compared to what he feels about Luc and his other former camp-mates. He considers them traitors and is keeping them in camp and making them work for him from sunup till sundown. Luc managed to just give me a whispered hint of it when I brushed past him and some other Bears in the street. The Mexicans have them trying to open up the safes of a trinket-store."