Children of a New Earth

by Eliason, R. J.

  “Several major martial arts organizations officially joined the cause. Thousands of police abandoned their jobs for us. Even more individuals joined. From then on we were the ‘Ten Thousand Warriors for Peace.’

  “What? Just because a bunch of you showed up, he caved in?” Mark demanded. “That don’t make no sense.”

  “Can you imagine thousands of people just watching you?” Kurt shuddered.

  “It was the discipline,” Roger said. “People yelling and shouting and breaking things was one thing. These were warriors; it must have been quite a sight.”

  Amy tried to imagine it but failed. Her whole life at the ranch had a grand total of forty some people. Thousands were beyond her.

  “You said you faced guns at the end too?” Luke said. “What end?”

  Ruth sighed. “Our movement was strong for another year. We did much good, or so I thought at the time.”

  “You did,” Roger said.

  “I think so too, but for a long time when I looked back, I thought we failed.”

  “Failed? How?” Amy asked.

  “We held back the tide of violence, but we didn’t stop it. Officially, martial law was in effect most of that time. Our practice was forbidden, but the military looked the other way. They had too much on their hands, and we were valuable peacekeepers. If we occasionally disagreed with them, well that was just the price they paid.

  “As the states began to splinter off and civil war erupted, things changed. The local militias tried to shut us down. The real showdown came in Boston. The state militia was trying to keep a band of several thousand refugees out of the city. Most of the refugees came from New York and had been wandering the coast homeless for the better part of two years. Over a hundred of our warriors were there. They were trying to avoid a violent conflict as usual. They asked that a share of the Red Cross food within the city be brought out for the refugees. In return, they would march elsewhere.

  “While the leaders were negotiating, several of the militia took matters into their own hands. They opened fire with semi-automatics. They killed most of the warriors and hundreds of innocent civilians as well.”

  “No way!” Daniel exclaimed. “Our government wouldn’t do that.”

  “It wasn’t the government anymore,” Roger replied. “The military had been in charge for close to a year by that point. Their control was slipping. The local militias ran wild and looked after their own interests.”

  “My husband is correct,” Ruth said. “It was local militia, not the government. Who can say they were wrong? People were starving in Boston too. They thought that sharing food meant that their friends or family might starve. What would you have done?”

  “They should have shared,” Roger growled. “Like we did. No, I have no problem saying it, they did wrong in Boston. Wrong.”

  Amy looked around. She knew Luke would share, or even Kurt and Daniel. But what would Shawn, Patrick, or Mark? She thought of the expedition in two factions now. She could easily see Mark opening fire on innocent people.

  What if Elisabeth was going to starve or Dad? What would Amy do? She squirmed uncomfortably.

  “That was pretty much how it ended,” Ruth said. “We knew the military would not respect our rights anymore. They would use lethal force again and again until we were all dead.”

  “Most of our leaders were already in hiding. They were wanted for terrorism and other trumped up charges against the state. The movement was disbanded. We were given a choice. We could stay in the cities and continue our work under the very real threat of death, or we could bend our ethics and join the Quiet Earth Society out in the countryside.”

  “What do you mean, bend your ethics?” Amy asked.

  “We were committed to nonviolence,” Ruth answered. “And many of us followed that quite rigorously. The Quiet Earth Society wanted peace and freedom, but they were no pacifists. When push came to shove they fought to win, even if that meant killing.

  “For many of our newer members, especially those who came from other martial arts that had a kill-or-be-killed philosophy, there was no debate. They headed for the proverbial and very real hills. The older members, those who had trained in Aikido for a long time, as well as many who had been attracted by the nonviolent philosophy, would not be party to violent revolution. Many opted to stay.

  “I was torn. Many of my oldest and dearest friends were staying. I knew they would be killed eventually. I finally decided I couldn’t stay. It wasn’t that I was afraid of death; I had seen it dozens of times while working with them. But I felt that I could still make a difference alive. If I died, the evil men who were in power and making the bad things happen would win. They would go on doing horrible things. Alive, I might be able to help stop them.

  “I had this friend . . . well, acquaintance, really. She led a women’s spirituality course I had taken, and we remained in touch. She was still in town, though I was not sure why . . .”

  “Had so many fled the towns by then?” Amy asked.

  “No, that wasn’t until the next winter,” Ruth replied. “It was just that she was pagan.”

  “Pagan?”

  “Yeah, you know the whole earth-worshiping group,” Roger said.

  They all shook their heads in confusion.

  “I don’t suppose the survivalists that raised you lot spent much time educating you on alternative religions,” Ruth said with a soft chuckle.

  “What sort of religion?” Mark asked blankly.

  “Alternative,” Patrick said, though the look on his face showed he didn’t understand either.

  “What, like Pentecostals?” Kurt asked.

  Roger rolled his eyes. “Not even close. They believe in the Goddess, the mother earth.”

  “Never heard of that,” Shawn said derisively. “Sounds like some sort of hippie freaks.”

  “Dad told me there were these hippie freaks living just below us on the mountains before the collapse,” Mark leered. “He remembered one young girl being particularly friendly.” He sniggered.

  Roger looked at him perplexed. “Actually, they are very friendly,” he said, “and it turned out they were good people to know.”

  “How so?” Luke asked.

  “About ten years before the collapse, they had a group of visionaries appear in their ranks. They spoke of a coming apocalypse. They said that the mother earth was about to shake off human desecration, as they described the environmental problems, with a violent upheaval.

  “They began to travel around their festivals teaching. They taught survival skills, gathering food from the wild, organic farming, herbal medicine, everything they would need to survive. By the time it all started—the plague and Chicago—they had mostly dropped out of society quietly, going off to live on homesteads and communities far from the cities.

  “I remember it being a bit of a joke even. One conservative radio host I listened to use to go on about, ‘Where have all the hippies gone?’ Funny, they seemed like such a small group until they were gone.

  “We even had one in our office; a young gay guy. I thought he was nuts. He left about six months before the plague hit. Sold his half-million-dollar home in the burbs, left a successful career, and went to live in the woods somewhere.

  “Well, he wasn’t the one who was crazy, and it was no joke. When I was traveling, it was well known that if you could find a pagan homestead, they would almost always have something to spare.

  “I can recall at the time,” he went on, “thinking how weird their food was. They ate lots of drought-resistant crops like Amaranth, and easy-to grow vegetables like sunchokes. That’s about all we eat anymore.”

  “So,” Luke said to Ruth. “You went to join the Quiet Earth Society and met Roger. You two came out here, built this, and lived happily ever after.”

  “Yes, happily ever after,” Ruth agreed with a smile. “But it was not quite so direct. I spent a year as a soldier for the society . . .”

  “They let women fight!?” Mark roared.r />
  Roger’s face crinkled in confusion. “Haven’t you been listening? She was already a second-degree black belt in Aikido and a veteran Warrior. Why wouldn’t they let her fight?”

  “Women can’t fight,” Shawn said. “Everyone knows that!”

  “She beat Patrick,” Amy said defending Ruth.

  Patrick blushed and looked away. “I wouldn’t want anything to do with a woman who fights,” he muttered.

  There was a tense moment, which was broken by Roger saying, “Good, then I don’t have to worry about Ruth running off with one of you strapping young lads and leaving me alone.”

  Nervous laughter followed.

  “While fighting,” Ruth went on, “I was assigned to guard one of our renewal projects, one that Roger commanded. He was a great leader, and I fell in love with him immediately.”

  “Baa,” Roger returned. “I had to woo her for months. Besides, I was no leader. We in the renewal projects were mere number crunchers anyway.”

  “What was the renewal project?” Luke asked.

  “We computed the number of trees, acres of wetlands, and whatnot it would take to return the world to normal.”

  “How many?” Luke asked.

  “A lot more than we have now,” was Roger’s reply. “That’s ultimately what drove us out here. The battle for what remained of the old civilization was winding down. It seemed a lot less important than saving the earth.”

  “We’ve had plenty of adventures out here as well,” Ruth said. “Especially in the early days. There were still bandits about, recyclers traveling back and forth through the little towns, and then there was building this place. Even as small as it is, it was a big chore for the two of us. Then there’s the weather these days, massive storms once or twice a year and not much rain besides. It’s been hard.”

  “But worth it,” Roger insisted.

  “Speaking of this house,” Luke asked. “What is it?”

  “It’s called cob,” Roger explained. “It’s a mix of clay, earth, sand, and straw. You mix it wet and make a sort of mud patty. You sculpt it into walls, letting it harden as you go. You end up with . . . well, you can see for yourself, it’s practically as hard as stone. It’s been here some twenty years with no wear and tear.

  “It took us almost two years to build the house; we spent the first winter in the back half. Even though the barn is smaller, we went slower, and it was almost three years in the making. There’s room for a few goats and a dozen chickens in the front half. There’s a small storeroom in the middle, and we built a chapel on the back, small, but room enough.”

  “Where did you learn to do that?” Luke asked.

  “That’s what the Quiet Earth Society teaches. By adjusting the clay and sand content, you can build with almost any soil type. Things like bricks and concrete are awfully hard to produce any more, and even harder to ship. Dirt is everywhere.

  “We had someone drive us out in an ox-drawn wagon. We brought our roof timbers and personal items. It would have taken several trips to bring enough wood to build. Besides we need every tree where it is, in the living forest.”

  Ruth added, “They thought of everything. Wood is so valuable that we buried it in a living roof to protect it. This house will outlive us by many, many years.”

  “And after that?” Daniel asked. He fumbled for the words. “I mean, it’s not any of our business, but you guys have been out here for over twenty years. Do you have kids?”

  “No, no children,” Ruth replied. Roger looked away.

  Finally he looked back. “Too much radiation, too much hard living, I don’t know which. It’s all too common these days.”

  “Some say,” Ruth said quietly, “that we are a dying race.”

  A chill went through Amy. She thought of the ranch. Forty some adults had barely produced as many children in thirty years. And the next generation?

  They spoke no more that night. Ruth’s declaration had turned everyone introspective. The expedition camped in the Akira’s front yard. Their little cottage was pressed to receive one visitor let alone seven.

  When Amy awoke, she climbed out of her tent to find Luke already up and helping Ruth load wood into the oven.

  “She’s explained everything to me,” he told her excitedly. “How to build one and use it. It will cut our wood use in half, I bet.” The ranch did all of its cooking on indoor wood stoves. “Best of all, we won’t have to heat our houses up in the summer.”

  She gave him her sourest “good for you” look and went around to the outhouse. Out behind the barn, she heard Roger’s voice, followed by Kurt’s. They were just inside the back entrance of the barn, where Amy could only guess the chapel must be.

  “It’s very nice of you to show me this,” Kurt was saying.

  “No problem, lad,” Roger replied.

  “Who is that?” Kurt asked. Amy pulled back, not wanting to intervene.

  “That’s Mary of course.”

  “Mary?”

  “Mother of Jesus.”

  “I know,” Kurt replied. “I just didn’t realize that people . . . you know.”

  “Worshiped her?” Roger finished.

  “There’s so much I don’t know,” Kurt said. “What’s this mirror?”

  “That’s Ruth’s,” Roger replied. “This side is her Shinto shrine. Look, here’s her family. She has all their pictures.”

  “What’s Shinto?”

  “It’s the traditional religion of Japan. Ruth got into after she started doing Aikido.”

  “You mean she’s not Christian?” Kurt sounded alarmed. “Aren’t you afraid?”

  “Of what?” Roger laughed.

  “Going to hell.” It was barely a whisper.

  “Didn’t Jesus teach us to be tolerant?” Roger asked.

  “No! Well, at least . . . I’m not sure anymore. See, Dad gave me this . . .”

  “Let me see. Hey, that’s an old Gideon Bible, New Testament only. I haven’t seen one of those in years. Here’s mine; King James, very traditional. I was born Catholic, you know. I’m a bit broader now, but . . .” He broke off and sounded more serious when he spoke again. “What’s bothering you, son?”

  “Well, at home Dad always read from this big Bible,” Kurt explained. “I thought I knew most of it by heart. Now I got my own little Bible, and I’ve been reading it every night . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s not the same. The stuff my dad reads is in there, but there’s a lot he didn’t read. Some things sound different when you read it all, not just bits.”

  There was a heavy sigh from Roger. “I hate to speak against anyone’s beliefs, son,” he said. “In my day, I’ve seen it all. There are good people in every religion, and there are bad. People have used the Bible to justify all sorts of beliefs. You just have to read it yourself and come to your own conclusions.”

  Amy retreated, not wanting to admit having overheard. She found the outhouse and sat there a long time thinking. Was Kurt having doubts?

  By the time she got back, the rest of the camp was starting to stir. Kurt was now helping Luke and Ruth make pancakes. They made a stiff batter, more a dough really, which they would pound flat. Then Luke would throw them into the oven. Ruth would wait a couple of minutes and then deftly flip them out with her paddle.

  Amy went to Roger, who was gathering up the expedition’s canteens. They took them to a small pitcher pump atop a small wall.

  “Rainwater catchment system,” Roger confided. “We got nearly a thousand-gallon capacity. That storm you told us about hit here too. We’ve had three storms this spring, and that’s all I expect. We have to make it last. There is enough for a few travelers, however.”

  They ate a solid meal of the pancakes topped by more apples and another fruit the children from the ranch had yet to experience: the peach. On the side, they had a vegetable that looked like a lumpy potato.

  “Sunchokes,” Roger explained. “Farmers used to spend a fortune trying to get rid of them. Now they’re
our best crop. They grow practically everywhere, even out here.”

  Amy took a bite and found it crunchy and not unpleasant. She preferred the apples, however, and told Roger as much. Ruth laughed as the boys all agreed.

  Roger was full of advice as he explained the route they would have to take. “Now remember the plague and don’t go eating any more corn, you hear?” They all nodded. “And it’s affected rapeseed as well.” Blank stares. “Canola?” he tried. Again, they all stared blankly at him. “Never mind,” he concluded. “You don’t know it, and you wouldn’t eat something you couldn’t identify.”

  “No sir,” Kurt replied gravely.

  They had plenty of food now anyway. The village was only a day and half away on foot. Ruth loaded them down with several thick, dark loaves of bread and several cans of everything from apples to tomatoes.

  “I feel naked,” Patrick grumbled as the Akira’s farm disappeared from view.

  “Glad you aren’t,” Amy muttered. She had felt very comfortable with Ruth and Roger. Now, just a few minutes away, it was back to the same old arguments and fighting.

  “Come on,” Daniel said. “We all agreed it was for the best.”

  “More like somebody decided, and you all caved in,” Mark said.

  “Well, he is the leader,” Amy pointed out.

  “Like hell,” Mark muttered.

  Shawn glared around mutinously.

  “I don’t see how the opinion of a noncombatant and a girl could possibly matter,” Patrick said.

  “Luke made the decision, and it was a good one,” Kurt said. He gestured at the gun that was wrapped in cloth and strapped across his back. “You don’t want the villagers thinking we’re hostile, do you?”

  “Bring ’em on,” Patrick replied through clenched teeth.

  “What if they’re hostile?” Mark demanded.

  “They’re not,” Luke said without looking back. “Roger said so.”