by Trish Mercer
“I’m already looking for buyers for my house . . .”
“I wonder when we can officially go. I won’t bother with planting this season if I won’t be here to harvest it . . .”
“Will everyone get maps, or just those leaving?”
“Does anyone know how long it will take to get there?”
“I’ll bet the ruins are gone.”
“I heard they saw new animals. I wonder what kind?”
Mahrree watched the raised platform most of the time, waiting to see when the empty chairs up there would be filled, and by whom. A table was also erected, and several soldiers placed large bags on it. When they laid down the bags Mahrree could see they were filled with paper.
Enough for each family, Mahrree considered. They had to be maps! Idumea would’ve had enough time to make woodcuts of the region and stamp out enough for every household. She was tempted to sneak up there and take a few, as if none of the several thousand people seated around her would have noticed, when a movement to the right caught her eye.
The crowd hushed as several men approach the podium. She didn’t recognize any of them except for Perrin. The colonel followed behind the men in the official red uniforms of the Administrators’ assistants and aides.
Mahrree tried to read his mood by his step, but because the men in front of him walked slowly, Mahrree couldn’t pick up anything from his gait.
Look at me, she thought. Look at me! Perrin! Over here!
But he only stared blankly ahead, waiting for the other men to take their seats. Finally he sat down in the last chair, crossed his legs, and folded his arms. His eyes searched the audience until he found his family.
Then he focused on Mahrree.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
She gave him her best pleading face.
Nothing.
Peto nudged her. “So what’s he saying?”
“Nothing!” Mahrree wailed softly.
Jaytsy giggled. “He’s better at this game than you are, Mother. His face is like stone.”
“I’ve seen him sit that way before, Mahrree. It’s his, ‘Nope, you’re getting nothing out of me’ position.” Deck grinned. “He sat like that when I asked him what he got me for my birthday.”
Mahrree growled under her breath and stared back at her husband. She gave him a flirty wink, just to see if she could break his concentration. He gazed at her for another moment with no reaction before looking away to the audience.
Oh, Mahrree thought with a pout, he is good.
The audience murmured as a thin man with a pointy nose and pinprick eyes got up, moved around papers on the table, then turned back to his seat for an additional stack of notes. It seemed to Mahrree that he was deliberately slow.
Growing agitated, Mahrree repositioned herself.
Perrin still refused to look at her.
Finally the man stood up at the table and cleared his voice.
“Good evening citizens of Edge. My name is Mr. Kori. I am an aide to the Administrator of Science, and I come this evening to bring you the findings of the recent expedition to the western lands as revealed by a map recently uncovered and supposedly belonging to the historian Terryp.”
“We know this already,” Mahrree grumbled.
Peto and Jaytsy, sitting on either side of her, simultaneously elbowed their mother.
Perrin saw the movement and shifted his gaze to them, remaining completely stony faced.
Mahrree waggled her eyebrows suggestively at him.
He looked away.
Mr. Kori pulled out his notes and began in a loud and official tone. “We have, thanks to the expedition and its findings, puzzled out the origin of our life.”
“Origin of life?” Mahrree blurted. Only her family noticed because the same refrain was being repeated all over the amphitheater. “What about Terryp’s lands?” Mahrree demanded with the rest of the crowd. “When did origin of life suddenly become an issue?”
“Mother, shhh!” Jaytsy said. She should have shushed everyone. The entire amphitheater was spouting like an impatient steam vent.
Mr. Kori’s voice rose above them. “We proudly present here today the findings of the last excursion to the Cursed Lands. We are calling the ruins this new name because it is what they are: Cursed.” He didn’t pause to listen to any response but continued reading from his notes.
But Mahrree’s mind had stuck on cursed.
No . . . no, that wasn’t right.
Oddly, a feeling—or rather a memory—was rising in her mind and filling it. She couldn’t quite define it, but she would very soon.
It was something about trees—
Shouts of protests woke Mahrree out of her momentary stupor, and Kori’s unrelenting voice droned on loudly.
“We have concluded that the Cursed Lands were indeed once populated, but not by a peoples foreign to us as we have always believed. They were, in fact, peopled by our ancestors.”
Yes! The memory in Mahrree’s mind cried out. Yes, that’s right!
This elicited some gasps from the crowd, but Mr. Kori continued. “Something happened to the land, either illness or plague or disaster or a combination, to cause the people to leave. Those who survived were approximately one thousand. They traveled for days and came to this land which was covered with fertile soil deposited from the volcano that lies under Mt. Deceit.”
Wait a minute, Mahrree’s thoughts churned. The memory began to shout, Wait a minute—that’s not quite right . . .
“These ancestors of ours, to keep their descendants from exploring the Cursed Lands, developed a new writing, a new language, and a new mythology to keep their children contented here.” Never once did he takes his eyes off of his notes. “Their leader named himself The Creator and was the mastermind of this effort until his untimely death three years after their move.”
The Creator? Dead?
Mahrree looked around her frantically. Her children were dumbfounded, her neighbors were stunned, and her husband on the podium showed nothing at all.
“It is our desire to keep the wish of our ancestors and to not expand to the west. The evidence shows the land will not support life. Going to the Cursed Lands,” and for a moment he looked up, “will only be going to our deaths. You must all stay in your villages and expand in other ways—”
“NO!” Mahrree cried. It was a lie! Every bit of her knew it.
But no one heard her outcry, because the crowd had also exploded into a loud variety of responses.
“Expand how? Upwards? That’s ridiculous!”
“We don’t care! We’re still going!”
Rising over all the protests was a dull roar, growing angry and threatening violence.
Colonel Shin still remained motionless.
Mahrree searched his eyes for something, anything, but he blocked her out.
Kori put an end to outrage in a voice louder than anyone could imagine the slender man could possess. “We therefore declare this matter of Terryp’s map, the ruins, the Cursed Lands, and the origin of our people resolved, and any further discussion unnecessary. The debate is officially closed!”
Mahrree grew cold and hot at the same time.
“The debate is closed?” she seethed.
“Uh-oh.” Peto looked behind his mother to his sister.
Her eyes were wide staring back at him. She cocked her head toward Mahrree who seemed to be steaming.
Peto put a hand on his mother’s arm, but she pushed him away. Not this time. She would not be quieted.
Deck now leaned back and looked at Peto.
Peto shook his head and shrugged. He was about to put his hand on his mother’s arm again when he realized she was no longer there.
Mahrree was on her feet, breathing deeply.
The roar of angry crowd dissipated as everyone turned to see what Mahrree Shin would do next.
“Mother!” Peto whispered in panic. “Sit DOWN!”
Perrin stared at his wife, his eyes large and brimming with ur
gent signals now.
But Mahrree didn’t notice him. She had eyes only for the Administrators’ lackey.
“Mr. Kori!” she bellowed her loudest. “The debate is NOT closed!” She quickly pushed past Jaytsy and pulled out of Deck’s too-late grasp at her arm.
Mr. Kori’s eyebrows rose slightly as he watched with detached interest her progress along the crowded row.
“I refuse to accept that!” she yelled, stumbling over people in her dogged effort to reach the aisle. “How can you . . . excuse me, so sorry. Mr. Kori, how can you suggest . . . well, move the bag when you see someone coming! . . . Mr. Kori!” Mahrree exclaimed as she finally reached the aisle. She stood as tall as she could, smoothed her dress, and took her stance. Every inch of her small frame told her what she needed to do.
After nineteen years, she was going to return to the platform.
“How can you possibly proclaim the debate is closed on anything? Everything, and I mean everything, is still up for debate. The sky is NOT always blue in Edge. Just look at it now—it’s darkening to black!”
Mr. Kori’s calm composure only infuriated Mahrree. “How quaint,” he remarked as if looking over an antiquated specimen. “You want to challenge the greatest minds in science with your little homespun ideas?”
She wasn’t going to be demeaned. “Yes, and with my belief in The Writings, and with all that we’ve taught our children over the past 338 years! Tonight you’ve changed everything we’ve ever known. And with evidence so new and fresh we haven’t have time to test it!”
“Now I’ve read The Writings too,” said Mr. Kori, with more than a hint of condescension. “They were a nice guide to help people along until they could help themselves. But now we know much more than we did three hundred years ago. We’ve matured past such stories. I’m not saying that you can’t keep believing them. What I’m saying is we now have something new which I’ll attest is better. We have the combined knowledge and wisdom of those who have studied this world for many years. And it’s those same great minds who have come to the conclusions of our origins. The expedition to the ruins was, as you might say, providential.” He smiled as if nothing more could be added.
Mahrree saw her angle. “Ah,” she said, slowly making her way to down the aisle. “So new information is better? New ideas are to be embraced without being tested?”
Mr. Kori kept his grip on the table, his smile fading as he realized she wasn’t giving up yet. “Not all new ideas, of course not. But when something has been studied extensively by the greatest minds, the conclusion is inevitable.” His expression grew brittle.
Mahrree smiled sweetly. “But the expedition returned only days ago. How ‘extensively’ can something be studied in only days?”
“The greatest minds were with them! They’ve spent nine moons working on this during the expedition.”
Mahrree nodded slowly, sure that they did little exploring but lots of posturing.
“I have a relatively good mind,” she said as she approached the platform. “Yet I’m not yet convinced of your findings, and I’m sure most of those here aren’t convinced either. But we’re willing to learn, and if you’re willing to discuss—”
Kori’s brittle composure began to crack as Mahrree, now at the base of the platform, threatened to place a foot on the first step.
“Madam, there comes a time to accept what you do not know or cannot understand.”
Mahrree’s eyebrows rose at that. “How do you know I can’t understand?” She took the first step.
“You believe too much in the mythology created by our ancestors, it’s clear,” he sneered. “You profess a belief in The Writings.”
“And you believe too little in it,” said Mahrree, taking another step.
Kori shifted his grip. “Madam, I don’t believe in The Writings at all,” he snapped.“Simple stories from a simpler time.”
There were audible gasps in the audience, but not as many as Mahrree had hoped.
“Then let’s discuss the ruins! Tell us what the expedition found,” she pleaded. Another step. “We must discuss something.”
Kori’s knuckles, gripping the podium, turned white. “There is no room for debate—”
“Sure there is!” She gestured to the open space next to him. “Right there.” Over the snickers of the audience, she continued, “When we close the debate, we close our minds and unnecessarily limit our possibilities. All our opportunities to grow, to expand, to explore?” She waved to the crowd. “How can you take that away from them? Let them go anyway! Let them be responsible for their choices and the risks.”
“We can’t allow anyone to leave the world!” Kori insisted. “We’ll send soldiers to guard the access points if necessary, to keep this people safe.”
“What if we don’t believe the so-called Cursed Lands are actually cursed?” Mahrree said, still slowly ascending.
“They are! Our expedition suffered all kinds of hardships, and every man who entered the ruins experienced shaking, heart palpitations, difficulty in breathing—”
Mahrree tilted her head. “Sounds like a serious case of cowardice, mixed with homesickness—”
“It wasn’t! There was also ample evidence that the pox originated from the ruins!”
Mahrree raised her eyebrows and hesitated on the stairs. “Oh really? What kind of evidence? Did they find little pocks lying all over the ground?”
“Evidence that you certainly couldn’t understand, but must accept!”
Mahrree’s patience with the man’s disdain was waning. “I, for one, will not accept that. I cannot accept that. What if I don’t want you to keep me safe? Why’s that the Administrators’ responsibility anyway? If I want to leave, I should be able to. I won’t ask anyone for help or rescue. But if you really want me to stay,” she said, her tone growing frosty, “you must prove to me the conclusions are correct.”
Another step.
“MADAM!” Kori boomed. “You would do well to realize that the debate . . . is . . . over.” He emphasized each word with what he likely thought was intimidating rage. “You’re expected, as is everyone in this village,” he glanced around, “to accept the results. It’s not the news we hoped for, I agree. The impact upon those lands by our ancestors was worse than we could’ve imagined. We cannot allow anyone there because the land needs to heal from the misuse of our ancestors and others who may have been there before.”
“Others?” Mahrree said with a hint of a smile.
Kori took a deep breath.“Yes, there may have been others besides our ancestors. The expedition found evidence of many different peoples.” He didn’t seem to want to say the words, but it was better than illegally debating the vexing woman creeping up the stairs. “They gathered samples of more than forty different styles of writing, which suggests this world has been populated for over one hundred thousand years.”
Now the gasps came, loud and from all over the amphitheater.
Mahrree paused on the steps. Over forty civilizations?
Oh Terryp! she thought, Is this what excited you so much that they thought you were mad? So many different peoples!
Mahrree took another step with so much energy she was surprised she didn’t fly. “Mr. Kori! This is fascinating! Let’s discuss this. I have a theory. None of those were our ancestors, but other groups of peoples brought here by the Creator to also test their wills in the Plan, as stated in The Writings.”
Another step.
“The Writings have told us we’re not the only ones, nor are we the last. So what if others were brought here—forty groups so far—and each lived out there time for the Plan? What if each group was here for, say, five hundred years? That would mean this world has seen civilizations for maybe . . . twenty thousand years, not one hundred thousand.
“Or,” she continued enthusiastically taking another step, “what if some of those groups developed more than one writing system? What if one civilization had multiple languages? Why, then the time of their existences could be
very different than either of our two theories! Maybe there was only one group before us, but with forty different ways of writing?”
Kori spluttered and stammered.
Mahrree was a flooding river of ideas, as she always was when she was on the platform. “And how can we be so sure a disaster destroyed them? What if their End to The Test came? Their Last Days? Did the expedition find any bones or remains? Any grave markers for millions of suddenly dead people? I doubt it. So what if those who came before us are just gone?
“And I’ve also wondered why had no other civilizations settled here, in Idumea and Edge and the other villages? Why did the others before us not take advantage of the fertile grounds here given to us by Mt. Deceit? I imagine a volcano’s eruption may be a fearsome thing to witness, but if it’s all just smoke and ash then a great abundance of black soil as we have been taught by your good scientists—” Mahrree was sure to give him a genuine smiled when she said that, “—why did no one else live here? Could it be there are some things we still don’t understand about how this world works? I mean, consider—”
“We know ENOUGH!” Kori bellowed, fully expecting his wrath to blow her off the platform. His complexion had turned from pink to bright red as Mahrree had plowed on.
But she didn’t move. “Oh Mr. Kori,” she said fervently, “how can we ever claim to know enough?”
“You need no more! I have here copies of the findings to be distributed to every family, and you will read the conclusions and worry no more about theories. You’ll all stay here where it’s safe, where we can protect you, and you must not risk leaving.”
Mahrree’s patience was spent. “Why?” she demanded.
Then a thought struck her so forcefully it nearly did blow her off the platform. It hit her stomach with a raw punch while the rest of her body filled with angry heat.
“The barn!” she gasped.
Only Kori and the others on the podium could hear her.
“This world . . . our whole world . . . this is the barn, and you won’t let anyone out,” she murmured.
Kori slowly shook his head at what he clearly believed was an insane woman.