by Hannah Ross
Jen looked at him, speechless with indignation, but Barry was oblivious and just went on.
"The guys are probably waiting for me out of town. We can drive by the farm and pick up your daughter. There are places for both of you. What do you say?"
"I say you've got some nerve." Her eyes blazed with fury. She spun around and threw across her shoulder, "You can bully people, Barry, but you can't make them love you or even care about you."
Having said that, she walked back to her friends.
Barry sent a long, regretful look after her, then turned and walked off. Sometime later, the revving of engines could be heard in the distance.
As the snipers rejoined the main group, several people were busy searching for the captives. They were discovered in one of the makeshift warehouses, blindfolded and gagged, with their hands and feet tied up. They were cold, hungry and frightened, but otherwise pretty well off, considering everything.
"Barry made some pretty gruesome threats," said Luc, rubbing his wrists. "But I tried to play it cool, you know, though at one point I was afraid this would be the end."
"He was only barking," said Raven. "He's nothing without a gang to stand behind him. Here, drink this."
"Thanks," he said, taking a long and grateful swig. "What is that?"
"Good ale. We brew it ourselves. I brought a few bottles along."
Priscilla, who silently watched everything that happened, muttered, "This was like the wild west I used to read about."
"And the wild East, and South, and North," said Ben. "However, all's well that ends well." He turned to the crowd and raised his voice to get their attention. "Since we're all here, there's something we need to discuss before we all head back to our camps."
Raven shot him an alarmed look. "Don't tell me there are more problems."
"No, it's that I've been thinking. Barry and his Mexican buddies didn't find much jewelry here, because we picked it all up before they came. I'm glad we did, not because I value the stuff so very much, but because Barry and the Mex guys were pissed off. The question is, what are we going to do with the metals and jewels?"
"What do you mean?" Carl asked. "We're going to sell it all to those guys up in Resurrection Town who are interested in trading with us. The Boundary guys."
"Yes, but Nell and I were talking the other day and she pointed out that if we bring in a big load of the stuff, the buyers won't see it as being worth much. It would be better to sell the jewelry a few bits at a time, to make it appear more rare and valuable."
Carl rubbed his chin. "Might be a good idea."
"And we could also build a little shack in Resurrection Town. Something we could use as a store. There are many corners there where we wouldn't be in anyone's way. I mean, why always depend on other people to sell for us when we can sell it ourselves?"
"And who would run that store?"
"Anyone for whom it's convenient at the time. My folks could help, too, whenever they come up to Resurrection. They'd be happy to do that."
"In other words…" Carl crossed his arms. "…you're trying to take charge of everything."
"What?" Ben spluttered with indignation. "How exactly do you figure that? Because you're way off the mark. I don't want to be in charge of anything. I don't think anyone here should be in charge of anyone else. Do I look like Barry?"
"Of course not, but..."
"It's OK, Ben," said Andy Steel. "Nobody here really thinks you're trying to take over or anything. You only came up with an idea... and I think it's a pretty good one, actually."
"Thanks. But it'll take a lot of planning and cooperation among all the camps."
"Look," Priscilla said. "It's not really any of my business, but it seems to me that if you're going to build a store to sell the stuff, you need regular staff there who are good salespeople and who know how to price the merchandise."
"You mean someone like you?" Carl asked.
"No way. I couldn't sell an apple to a hungry man. But I bet each camp has at least one person who'd be good at it. People could take turns in the store the way they take turns doing chores in camp. As for pricing the stuff, Ben's parents and sister can go back and forth across the Boundary with no trouble. It would be easy for them to see what jewelry and gold and silver is selling for inside. You price it a little less, and you might get Boundary people coming out here to your store. And Boundary money can be used to buy food, clothes, fuel, building materials… all sorts of stuff you can't easily get out here."
"That's brilliant, Nell," Raven said. "Any more bright ideas?"
"Three, actually. First is that you all pool the jewelry, then divide it up equally so too much won't be held in one place in case someone finds it. Second, is that regardless of who grabbed what jewelry from the stores, profits get shared equally by the camps. Or maybe by the people. You guys will have to decide that. And third, there must be jewelry shops in other old cities. Maybe groups made up of someone from each camp could go jewelry hunting so the supply doesn't run out too fast."
Abe Wood from the Spotted Cats said, "How about each of the camps pick a couple of people to get together and come up with a detailed plan? Once they have something that's workable, we have another all-camps meeting to vote on it. Ben, do you really think your parents and sister would be willing to help?"
"I can ask. But I bet they'll be happy to help figure out a workable business plan, especially my father. Why don't we all take the next two weeks for each camp to discuss all this, come up with some ideas, and pick the camp reps? Then the reps can meet back here and get things rolling."
"Sounds good to me," Raven said. "Anything else anyone wants to talk about now?"
There was murmuring all around, but nobody spoke up, so Ben turned to Priscilla, smiled, and said, "Time to go home."
32
_____________________
Thursday, May 8
"Climb up, Ben, I've got the ladder steady."
"Are you sure? It's a rickety old thing. I've been meaning to make a new one for ages."
Once peace was restored and they returned to camp, Ben and Priscilla set to work pruning some of the old apple-trees in the densest and most sheltered part of the orchard, where they stole some tender moments between one tree and the next. With Priscilla steadying the ladder, Ben began his careful ascent, pruning shears in hand. He barely had time to clip two branches, though, when the two of them heard a rare noise in these parts – the sound of a car engine.
"Could it be Sidney?" Priscilla asked in a hushed voice.
Ben frowned, looking into the distance from the top of the ladder. But it wasn't Sidney. There were three Explorers, and they looked shiny and impressive and new, much more so than Sidney's trusty old thing. The members of the Eagles' camp saw glimpses of government expeditions now and then, but this looked more like a delegation, and it was purposefully moving in the direction of their camp.
"You better get in the house, just in case," Ben told Priscilla, trying not to betray his anxiety. She did so, slinking away just as they agreed she would do if need arose. Ben went to the gate to meet the cars with great apprehension.
They were all identical-looking, sleek, and black. Two of them stopped at a distance, but one drove close to the gate. The engine stopped, and a trim, smartly dressed man in black sunglasses stepped out. Without a shade of reservation or hesitation, he stepped over to Ben and flashed his ID card for a brief moment. Ben didn't have much experience in such matters, and he certainly had no time to discern the name, but he thought he saw the letters TIO.
"Good morning," the man said in a crisp, business-like manner.
"Good morning," said Ben. "Is there something I can do for you? Are you lost?" Though his words were polite, the tone came out rather hostile.
One side of the man's mouth twitched up. "Not lost. But I do hope you can help. My name is Sean Ferguson, of the TIO. Who am I speaking to?"
"Nobody," Ben said, crossing his arms. "You know that, don't you? This is no man's land
, and those living in it are non-people."
"Not exactly," Ferguson said with polite correctness. "This is unregulated government land and the laws of the Boundary can be arbitrarily activated whenever the White Tower deems it right to do so."
By this time, the arrival of the strangers was noticed, and several others, among them Mac, Andy, and Tom, walked over, looking suspicious. "What's up?" Andy demanded.
"You have no reason to be afraid," Ferguson said. "We didn't come here to meddle in your affairs. Simply to ask a few questions. According to information received by us, you might have knowledge of the whereabouts of this person." Ferguson reached into his jacket, pulled out a framed and laminated photo of Priscilla, elegantly dressed and smiling rigidly, and held it out. "Have you ever seen this girl?"
Mac took it and stared at it for a long time. "Never seen her in my life. Why are you looking for her?"
"Do you know who she is?"
"No idea."
Ben noticed Andy limited himself to vague nods. I'm glad Mac spoke up. I don't think I could pull it off so well.
"Well, I suppose you might not know, given the detached way you live."
"The government made sure of that," Mac said, his voice cold. "Now what?"
"Still, you must know that the White Tower is in charge, and Alexander Dahl is president."
"Suppose we do. What's it to us?"
"This girl is Priscilla Dahl, the president's daughter. She ran away from home, or was kidnapped, and we have reason to believe she was seen in this area not long ago"
"What?" Mac put on his most convincing bewildered expression. "Why would the president's daughter be roaming out here beyond the Boundary?"
"We'd love to know that. But at any rate, it isn't your concern. What I want you to tell me is whether you know anything at all about this girl. And mind, we have ways to reward those who help us."
Mac gave a dry little laugh. "What, are you going to make some impressive money transfer to the nonexistent bank accounts of people who don't legally exist?"
"We have other means. Food, supplies, equipment. Certain legal permits, too. And we also have ways of penalizing those who choose to conceal information from the authorities." Ferguson wore a pleasant expression, but there was a deadly chill in his words.
"Well, it looks like we'll do without either your rewards or your penalties," Mac said. "Wait. Andy, do you think the Ravens might know something?"
"Wh… um, I have no idea. You might want to check with them, though," he told Ferguson.
"Ravens. Is that another camp? Far from here?"
"Not really. They might still be in their winter camp. It's a ways to the southwest. If not, you should be able to track them pretty easy. Do you have a map?" After a few minutes’ consultation, the TIO Explorers departed in a great revving-up of engines.
"You know they won't find anyone there," Andy said. "The Ravens are in their summer camp now, and that one moves every few weeks once their sheep are done grazing."
"Yeah," said Mac, "that's the general idea. Waste more of their time searching. Let's get in the house," he told Ben, who avoided his eye.
The three walked into the large log hall and stood near the entrance. Mac shut the door behind him and rounded on Ben. "You knew," he said with absolute certainty. "How long have you known?"
"Don't talk to me like that," Ben barked. "You have no right to interrogate me!"
"And you have no right to put the camp in danger! Don't you see? If they think they have a reason, they can lock us up, or torture us, or kill us. And no one will speak a word against it, because we don't exist!"
"What's going on?" Gabby hurried out of the kitchen, her eyes wide with alarm as she wiped her hands on her apron. She was closely followed by Priscilla and Lauren. "Why are you shouting, Mac?"
"Ask him," Mac said, pointing at Ben with unusual vehemence. He looked at Priscilla with a half-apologetic expression. "It's not like I have anything against you, but having you here puts us all in danger."
Priscilla paled. "Those men." Her voice was just above a whisper. "In the Explorers. They came for me, didn't they?"
"What?" Gabby looked flabbergasted. "The government men? Why would they come for Nell?"
"Because she isn't Nell," said Mac, with the air of someone cradling a bomb in his arms. "She's Priscilla Dahl, the President's daughter."
The explanation was long and complicated and left the entire camp sitting motionless, in utter silence, trying to wrap their minds around this new information.
"Wow," Shauna said eventually, looking at Priscilla in quite a new way. "I mean… Wow. I would never have dared to do something like that, if I were you."
"You have to go." Mac was adamant. "You have to take her away, Ben. Do you think those men won't return? It's a miracle they didn't turn the whole place upside down. It's not like they'd need a warrant or anything."
"It's all thanks to you being such a good actor, Mac."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Don't try to play up to me. Stick to the point, Ben. This is your responsibility."
"I don't see why you're so dead set against poor Nell. I mean, Priscilla," said Gabby. "She has nowhere to go and it's not like she wants to go back, do you?"
"No, I don't. Not until after the elections, anyway."
"I think you're a nice girl," Mac told Priscilla. "One heck of a decent girl, actually, considering where you come from. But we can't have you here."
"What do you suggest, then?" snapped Ben, feeling his ire rising.
"Sidney and Elisa's?" suggested Jen, who was sitting next to Enzo with Marleen on her lap.
"They don't have much room," Ben said.
"I'd say they've already taken enough of a risk, with another of your dubious pals," Mac shook his head. "Honestly, Ben, I thought you had more sense."
"What about the Ravens?" said Andy. "The TIO men will find them, I'm sure. But if we hold out a few days, they'll probably be gone from the area anyway. And the Ravens are never in the same place long. I think it's the safest way by far if one needs to lie low for a while."
Ben shook his head and sighed. Begging hospitality in the Ravens' camp for himself and Priscilla, or even just Priscilla, would be extremely awkward, but he couldn't think of a better alternative.
33
________________________
Friday, May 9
"This is a disaster," said Alexander Dahl. A vein throbbed in his temple and a muscle twitched in his jaw. "An absolute, total disaster." He flung the latest printout of the public survey charts from him in disgust. "There is no point denying it. Connor's popularity is rising, while mine is…not. Unless something changes soon, the election is as good as lost."
"I did say you were taking a wrong stance on this, Alexander," said Daphne Van Wullen. To Dahl's great dismay, Daphne managed to push her way into what was supposed to be a discreet meeting in Silver Oaks between him, his brother-in-law, and Frederick Pearson. "Priscilla's disappearance was bound to leak out to the public in the end. If you had been upfront and honest to begin with, and put the country on alert at once, we might have been able to find the unfortunate girl already."
"Please don't get started on that," Dahl said through tightly clenched teeth. "I've had enough of that from Eleanor already. It doesn't help."
"Suppose we turn to more productive discussions," said Andrew, attempting to rally despite his obvious disappointment. "First off, is there any news of Priscilla?"
Dahl shook his head. "Nothing. It's as if she vanished into thin air. The TIO continues to comb the area, though. I know Priscilla couldn't have eluded us all on her own for so long." His face twisted into an ugly scowl. "Someone is helping her, and when we find out who that someone is, we'll crush them like a cockroach."
"I suggest the TIO expand the circle of their search, tie up any loose threads. If Priscilla is found before the elections, this can yet save everything. If we have her, we can turn the Observer back to our side."
With a great flourish,
Andrew pulled out a fresh copy of the Urban Observer and spread it on the table. The front page was emblazoned with a fat headline: Scandalous Revelation: President's Daughter Gone Without Trace. Disappearance Concealed from Public to Preserve Dahl's Popularity.
"They're milking it for all it's worth, aren't they?" said Daphne, her disapproval clear.
There was a timid knock on the door, and the serving-girl entered with a tray to inquire whether they would take another drink. Dahl and Andrew declined.
"A nice hot coffee with a shot of Curaçao for me, dear," said Daphne, smacking her lips and waiting until the door closed behind the servant to continue. "Well, Alexander. If we can't save your character, there's only one thing left to do. Sling dung at Ted Connor."
"Just what I was going to suggest," Andrew said with an approving nod. "Do we have anything else on Connor, Frederick?"
Pearson shook his head. "Nothing new, unfortunately. We checked and double-checked the information we have on him, and except for that juvenile indiscretion, which didn't really impress the public, the man appears a perfect paragon of virtue. Not so much as a parking ticket in all his history."
"Insufferable upstart," Dahl spat out.
Andrew, however, was undaunted. "There's no such thing as a man without skeletons in his closet. We just have to dig a little deeper. As I recall, Connor worked in the office of Senator Stanley fifteen years ago, when there was that ugly story with the bribes. Do some thorough research on that, Frederick. We might be able to find something. The more squeaky clean Connor looks now, the worse it will be for him once his perfect image is shattered."
"Why isn't Eleanor here?" demanded Daphne as someone knocked on the door.
At Dahl's "Enter," the serving-girl brought in a tray laden with a cup, a silver pot, a bottle of Curaçao, and a plate of delicate biscuits. Daphne accepted the cup and saucer from the girl, took a biscuit, dipped it in the coffee, and swallowed it whole.