by Hannah Ross
"Why do you want to talk to them?"
"I want to…uhhh…thank them." He grinned at her puzzled look. "Don't worry. Please?"
When she returned a few minutes later, she said, "They said they'll meet you in the sunroom. Neither of them looked happy about it. And why are you grinning?"
"Power play. In their minds, if they walked over here, they'd be granting me status. Instead, they walk a longer distance to the sunroom, making me walk twice as far as them to meet them in a place they dictate, like I'm some supplicant who'll be begging for a scrap of bread. And, of course, no one who matters will see them with me." His head shook as they started to walk. "All these ego games they play. Do you think it makes them happy?"
"I don't know. Maybe in some way it does. My father used to be the same way. Do you want me to wait outside?
"It's up to you. I won't be but a few minutes."
"Then I'll stay here and play with Ian."
* * *
Ben closed the door, turned, and smiled at finding Van Wullen seated behind a writing table and Thornton standing next to him.
He bobbed his head as he said, "Ned. Uncle Andrew" and suppressed a grin at the how dare he be so familiar look in their eyes.
"What's this about, Grey?" Thornton asked.
"A few things.
"First, on behalf of all the folks outside the Boundary, I want to thank you both for sending those convicts out to join us. We had trouble with a few in the beginning, which was to be expected, I guess, but most of them figured out pretty quick that real freedom was a mighty good thing. So far they've been hard workers and homesteaders and should we ever have to face another attempt to invade our land, say from Mexico or Canada or… wherever… they're going to be some of the best fighters we'll have. I don't suppose you have any more convicts you want to get rid of?"
Ben wished he had a camera to capture the look on their faces but did not, so he just nodded as his expression turned grim.
"Uncle Andrew. Did Ned here give you a detailed rundown of the whole treaty signing? What happened? Our private conversation? Because if he didn't, it explains a lot."
"Explains what?" Andrew snapped.
"Did he tell you what would happen should anything fatal happen to any of our contacts inside the Boundary? I can see from your expression he did not."
Andrew glared at his nephew. "What's he talking about, Ned?"
"It was just a bluff to try and…"
Andrew's voice rose. "What is he talking about, Ned?"
"Perhaps it would be better for me to summarize the day so Ned's memory won't be taxed," Ben said
When he finished, he could tell Van Wullen was angry, perhaps furious, but consummate politician that he was, his voice remained steady and controlled when he asked his nephew, "It all that true? You and your guards witnessed the shots. Did Ben here make clear what would happen if we did not abide by the terms of the Treaty and leave them alone?"
Ned nodded. "But it was all bluster. How could some wilding sneak into the Boundary and take a shot at—"
"Are you really that stupid? Did it not occur to you that any Boundary citizen, especially in the military or police, could execute any of us unless we stayed locked and guarded in our homes for the rest of our lives?"
"Why haven't they done anything , then? We—"
"Shut up, Ned." Van Wullen's head shook.
"I'll answer that," Ben said. "We haven't done anything because so far, you've only fired and banished some low level workers. You haven't actually hurt or killed anyone. And no one…well…there are a few who do, but mostly no one wants another war with the Boundary or even to see anyone get hurt. The terms of our treaty were carefully constructed to benefit both sides. And we're used to living without, so while it's been hard in Resurrection Town with little power and all the other games you've been playing, we've managed. We all worked together, former convicts included, hoping you folks would come to your senses. But lately, the voices calling for a forcible change in leadership within the Boundary have been growing louder and attracting more nods at meetings. Even some of our friends in here have wondered why we've not asked them to do something."
"So why haven't you?"
"Because unlike some people, most of us value life. All life. There are more than a few people out there, and in here, who are all for rounding up the ruling families and sending them out to work in the Zone C mines to give them a taste of their own evil. Can you imagine Aunt Daphne swinging a pick or slinging a shovel?"
Neither Ned nor Andrew could completely suppress a grin at the thought, but the grins vanished when he added, "Or both of you?
"The truth is that none of us are likely to survive another war. And I don't think many in the Boundary or out there want another war. The way I see it, there's far more profit in cooperation. So how about you guys draft an announcement that the White Tower and the Freeborn are entering a new period of cooperation. Turn all the power and the phones back on. Encourage cross-Boundary commerce and trade. Maybe even come out and pay us a visit. See how the other half lives. It might surprise you. And that will put an end to talk of assassinations. Because if things don't change, and fast, I suggest you and a lot of others pick a well-guarded room and remain there for the rest of your lives, which otherwise might be considerably shortened if certain people get their way. Please. Help us prevent that."
* * *
"That was more than a few minutes."
"I'm sorry, Pris. I went in there for one thing and it just snowballed, but it's possible I got through to your Uncle Andrew."
When he finished detailing the conversation, Priscilla laughed and said, "You really invited them out to visit us?"
"It was a suggestion, not an invitation, but if they someday deign to see how the settlements are getting along, they might decide to come see where we live."
She shook her head. "Somehow, I seriously doubt it. But more to the point… do you think you've managed to knock some sense into their fat heads?"
Ben shrugged. "It's too early to tell, I suppose. But I've given them food for thought. It's up to them to decide what to do with it."
* * *
After the crowd of mourners dispersed, Ben and Priscilla walked over to the long-unused stables, where Ian played among the empty stalls. "This was where I used to feel most at home," Priscilla said. "Here, and in the kitchen with Tilly. Both the horses and Tilly are gone now."
Then Priscilla showed him the grounds, the luxurious, orderly, well-established, comfortable, corrupt world in which she was raised. Neither of them belonged to it. They never would.
"I told mother we might stay for a few days," she said.
"Your family, your call."
"Let's go home, Ben."
30
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"So this is what a real life city looks like," Darren said, looking around with a slightly dazed expression. Born and raised across the Boundary, he never saw a populated spot larger than Resurrection Town, and even that infrequently.
"I'll bet ten to one that you won't be excited for very long, lad," Clark, who drove the party from Resurrection Town into the Boundary, said with a condescending smile.
Darren was about to answer, but was cut short by the approach of three officials. One of them, a fat dark little man, said: "Well. You're finally here. My name's Jose Garcia, and I work for General Evans."
"Do we have an arrangement?" Clark, always to the point, asked.
"It isn't official yet," Garcia said. "But the idea is that we can help you. It would be a mutually beneficial arrangement. We send fuel, supplies, food, medicines. People don't go hungry and don't die. And you'll be able to run cars and trucks."
Enzo, who was also of the party, asked, "And what would you ask in return?"
"According to what we know, near Resurrection Town there are good places to dig for silver, copper, quartz. Rich land. We could make a nice profit. You help us develop the mines, let us pass, let us hire so
me workers, and we help you. And we would form a totally independent corporation for that purpose, one that has nothing to do with the White Tower. How does that sound?"
The companions exchanged glances. Enzo frowned and gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head. "We can't commit to other people volunteering to work for you. They might not want to and we can't make them. I guess it would depend on what you're willing to pay them. Mining is hard, dirty, dangerous work."
Garcia shrugged. "It's a suggestion. A fair one, I'd say. I'd take it, if I were you. You pass it to your council."
The ambassadors looked at each other again. It was a no brainer, really. The White Tower made some grudging allowances and allowed fuel and supplies to flow across the Boundary, but it wasn't nearly enough. The settlers still needed help, and if they worked out any arrangement with outsiders, these outsiders had to be independent of the White Tower. General Evans was a friend. He helped them during the war, and was helping them still.
"I think our Council will approve if the numbers work out," said Clark. "Draw up a detailed proposal and we'll present it to the Council. It will help if you attend the meeting. And so you know, we have a number of lawyers and retired businessmen who will be going over the proposal."
For most of the way back, Enzo counted the miles. Once the car stopped at a home on the edge of Resurrection, his attention was claimed by a pretty woman and two children. "Enzo! Enzo!" she called, throwing her arms around him. "You're back! Oh, thank goodness."
"I told you there was no need to worry, Jen," he said, lifting her off her feet and spinning her around, then letting go to hug and kiss the children as well. "We have some interesting news. Where are Mac and Ben and everyone?"
* * *
"Mines." Mac said the word in the same tone he might have said mousetrap. "I can't say I'm too thrilled about a bunch of strangers coming up here. Who can promise they're going to respect our hold on this land?"
"No one," said Ben, "but I'd take the risk. Frankly, the settlement isn't well-off enough yet to be self-sufficient. Will you have to go there again, Enzo?"
"No. A delegation from there is going to come up here in a few weeks to do some survey work and discuss possible locations for the mines. And they should have a written proposal for us to look at. In the meantime, we should get all our concerns in writing so they can be part of the negotiations."
Ben's head shook. "Negotiations. We really have moved on from being just the Wild Children."
"We have. Which is why we need to get this right, not allow them to take advantage of our inexperience. I think it might be a good idea to invite a few of the retired businessmen who've settled out here to serve on a contract committee or something."
"Good idea. I hate to suggest this, but maybe we should see if there are a couple of lawyers, too."
"I wonder what Darren thinks of all this," said Mac. "He hardly stayed two minutes to say hello to his mother and me, and ran off again. Gabby didn't know what to think."
Enzo smirked. "It's this Val girl, who came with the first wave of refugees. Darren's been following her around like a lovesick puppy. Frankly, I expected better from him."
Mac sighed. "Oh well. They're grown now. I don't know when we'll get to see Jill again. And what about you, Ben? Are you and Priscilla going back to your homestead soon?"
"That was the plan," Ben said. "I don't know if we can do that in good conscience, though. There's so much to do in Resurrection Town."
"I'm encouraging everyone who can to return to their farms," Mac said. "We need to harvest as much food as possible this season. I don't know how we're going to pull through the winter. There are so many people and so little food. The stores are almost depleted as it is. We'll have to enforce stricter rations, and let me tell you, it isn't going to make us the most popular guys in town."
"You gotta do what you gotta do," Ben said. "Pris and I will try to rustle up as much food as we can to contribute to the winter stores. My folks will do the same, I'm sure."
"Sidney and Elisa gave two sacks of dried meat from a deer Sidney brought down last year," Enzo said. "And the Ravens have promised to donate some of their salted mutton."
"Maybe it won’t be so tough now that we have Boundary people willing to work with us. There's still a big demand for furs and wood and such and lord knows we have plenty of all of that. We just need to get the harvesting organized so we can trade for canned goods, dry goods, and other things we need."
Ben nodded. "Even so, this will be a tough winter with so many people. We'll all have to rally together if we want to have even a glimmer of a chance."
31
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The two horses walked into the clearing and Priscilla exclaimed, "Goodness, Ben! Look at the garden! It's all overgrown!"
"I'm a little surprised it's grown back so well given the winter we had. Looks like mostly weeds, though, but don't worry. We'll put it in shape in no time, and in a few months, we'll be harvesting like the old days."
Priscilla laughed. "The old days?"
"You know what I mean. Before the war. Before the Treaty. Before the Council. Before this past winter. When all we had to think about was ourselves, Ian, and our homestead. "
He slid off his horse and took Ian so Priscilla could dismount.
"Ohhh. Those old days." She laughed again, then frowned. "Look at the front porch. It's all covered in pine needles and... what is this, squirrel droppings? Yuck. I need to get to this right away."
"Relax, Pris. Let's just enjoy being home for a change. It's been a long while."
Ian, who nearly forgot the place during their absence, looked around with wide, wondering eyes.
The rocking chairs forgotten outside looked sad and forlorn, with black mold in places. The garden beds were full of weeds, as Rebecca and Daniel stopped coming by once the fuel shortages began, and then got out of the habit. When Ben pushed the front door open and they walked in, they encountered stale air and a solid layer of dust. A mouse hastily scurried across the floor and out of sight.
"Oh, Ben..."
"It's nothing that a bit of cleaning won't fix."
"A bit of cleaning? A bit of cleaning? Have you seen the mouse droppings in the kitchen? Oh well…" Priscilla shook her head. "I suppose we can't complain, especially when one thinks of all the poor people in Resurrection Town who still only have a canvas roof over their heads. Or those who are still sick from those twisted experimental shots, or from being in Zone C."
"Let's not think about that, Pris. It only makes us depressed. Let's just roll up our sleeves and get to work."
"You're right. Come on, sweetie." She scooped up Ian. "Come along and help mama clean."
Priscilla reached into her household supplies nook, pulled out a mop and a broom, threw on an apron and got to dusting, thinking her older sister was most likely sipping a cocktail or ordering her au pair around.
* * *
At the end of the day, when the night crept in soft and mellow and Ian was asleep in his bed, Ben and Priscilla sat together in the swing on the front porch, holding hands and listening to the hoots of a distant owl.
"You were right, Ben. I exaggerated. It's just that I'd never seen the house that dirty and forlorn before. It was all shiny and new when we came, and we kept it in good shape until we left."
"It's been no picnic today, but we'll pull it off. Those chairs... I think some sanding and a new coat of varnish should do the trick."
They sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the stars and the night air until Ben turned to his wife and said, "I see this isn't going to be easy."
Priscilla grinned. "You don't say."
"I mean... everything. Justice, law, economy. The more we grow – and we must grow or we stand no chance – the more complicated things will get. As much as I despise the White Tower, there's one thing I have to say for them – they're organized."
Priscilla shuddered. "God forbid that we should have a second White Tower h
ere or anything close to it."
"It will never happen, Pris. You know that. But nobody said we can't learn from our enemies. A written set of laws, as rudimentary as they might be, will help us keep things straightforward."
Priscilla smiled, stood, and stretched. "I don't know about you, but personally, I think we ought to indulge in a good long sleep before we go on thinking about all the people who need to be fed, cured, and kept in order. I've missed our loft bedroom almost more than anything else."
"Almost?" He raised an eyebrow.
She gave him a sly glance over her shoulder. "I'll tell you all about it in a minute. Are you coming?"
Ben jumped from his seat and reached for her. "You bet."
32
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Seven Months Later
Two riders approached the outskirts of town. "I think we're almost there," said the woman. She was young, fair, and beautiful. Her companion was a man with bronze skin and raven-black hair that tumbled down his back in a single long braid. They were both dressed in deerskin trousers and shirts, and had moccasins on their feet.
"Are you sure your family is here and not at the camp, Laughing Creek?" asked Midnight Fox.
"Darren said they're mostly here now when he visited. You know Dad can't be spared, and he can't do without Mom. Let's go on."
He squinted ahead. "What is it I see in the distance? It looks like people are busy there."
"Those would be the mines, I guess."
Midnight Fox looked on with obvious distrust. "Mines? What's the difference between this and letting the Boundary get control of the settlement?"
"It isn't the same thing. The miners are only doing their thing here, under contract. They don't care about what the settlers are doing. Many of them are settlers earning a good paycheck. The rest don't poke around the camps."
"Let's hope so."
The two rode forward, to the new log house that now functioned as the council meeting place. To her great joy, Jill found not only her father there, but her younger sister as well.