Edge World

by Michael Guinn

  “I am reluctant to do it, but we could quietly sneak to that area that Charlie would have gone for his plants. It is on the edge of the taboo area and if we take our time we can get there and see if there is any evidence of recent digging. With the off limits in place no one goes anywhere near that area so we aren’t going to run into anyone else and it really isn’t very far from here. I used to know Jason who was probably the one getting the plants for Charlie and he gave me a pretty good description of where he got the plants.”

  “Where is this Jason and why did he stop supplying Charlie with is plants?” Tamara asked.

  “I was told he took a job on the riverboat route down on the Columbia River part of the route. That was probably the reason since if Charlie was a student he probably couldn’t pay Jason very much.”

  “How long will it take us to get to this area? It is late afternoon and we definitely do not want to get caught in the jungle at night,” both twins said together.

  “You are right,” Ethan answered. We could easily get there before dark, but it is very likely we would get caught by dark before we got back. I suggest that we wait till morning to go. Would Vann and Therme let you stay there again tonight?”

  “They might,” Tamara said, “But they definitely would not like us going into the jungle tomorrow and Vann might get hold of the Chief to stop us. Do you have a place we can stay?”

  Ethan scratched his head. “I have been sort of making do in a small bunkhouse that is used by transients. It’s got plenty of bunks and the roof doesn’t leak, but that is about all I can say about it. There is an eatery nearby, so if you don’t mind sleeping in the same building with a lot of others, you can use it.”

  “Others sleep there too besides yourself?” Kristina asked.

  “It varies. Some nights I am there all by myself and other nights half the bunks are in use. There certainly no danger but when a lot of us are staying there it tends to get noisy, late. Sometimes there are drinking parties and other times a bunch with musical instruments will jam for hours.”

  “Other than the drinkers we will fit in,” Tamara said. “Besides we both have heavy duty stunners if anyone tries to get out of line with us.”

  Ethan looked at them for several minutes, then said “fine, let’s go get something to eat before we go to the bunkhouse. And there is always the possibility that someone else bunking there knows something about Charlie.”

  The eatery was about as Ethan had described it: mostly take out but with a few tables scattered under an overhang. There was little choice in food, with only three items to choose from and an additional half-dozen side dishes. But the place was very clean and they served generous portions. At Ethan’s advice, they all sat at one of the small tables. There was only water to drink, but that didn’t seem to bother anyone.

  When they returned to the bunkhouse there was only one young man holding down one of the twenty-five or so bunks in the building. There was a relief room half-way down the side of the building, but nothing else but bunks. The twins hadn’t brought any extra clothes with them. Therme had given them night-ware the night before, but for tonight they would have to sleep in the clothes they were wearing. Ethan led them down to three stacked bunks and suggested that the twins take the top and middle bunk while he took the lower. It was still too early to sleep and Tamara and Kristina were too wound up to go to sleep immediately anyway. They pulled several large pillows down from the bunks and sat talking with Ethan. After a while the other youth came over and asked if he could join them.

  “Good evening, my name is George, George Benitte,” he introduced himself as they invited him to their circle. The twins and Ethan gave their names and asked George if he thought the bunkroom was going to be busy that night, possibly explaining his early choice of a bunk.

  “I really don’t know,” George replied, “I am a messenger on the way back to my village after delivering several packages to Atlanta City. I got delayed on my way back and ended up not being able to get to my village before dark. This is only the second time I have had to spend the night here.

  “Tamara and I are here looking for a friend of ours,” Kristina said. “Is the jungle unsafe at night?”

  “It is not particularly dangerous, but it is so very dark under the trees and bushes that it would be very easy to get lost, even if you are carrying a light.”

  “See,” Ethan said, “I told you we would get lost if we tried moving in the jungle after dark, much less find anybody in it.”

  “Who is it that you are looking for?” asked George. “Not that I know many people outside of my village.”

  “We are looking for a friend of ours called Charlie Norton,” said Tamara. “He is a senior in high school and all seniors are required to do a research project or a written review of some else’s research project. Charlie is studying the behavior of sorties by feeding them various jungle plants. Unfortunately, the person he has been getting the plants from, has left the area. We are guessing that Charlie came here to the village to try and get someone else to collect for him. But no one seems to have seen him.”

  “Would he have tried to find the plants he needs by going into the jungle himself,” George asked.

  “We think Charlie is smarter than that, but we just don’t know,” the girls both said.

  “He only needs enough of a certain plant to finish his project so he might have talked someone to show him where that particular plant can be found,” said Tamara.

  “Can you describe the plant Charlie was looking for?” asked George.

  “We told Vann that is was short, about a third of a meter talk, with reddish brown serrated leaves. There are several small blue flowers at the end of sturdy stalks.”

  “We also told Vann that we had only seen the plants after they had been harvested, and didn’t know what part of the plant Charlie was using in the test,” put in Kristina.

  George looked very pensive, then asked, “Is Vann someone from here in this village?”

  “Vann is one of my many cousins here,” replied Ethan. “He is a supervisor of one of the trading riverboats and thus out of the village most of the time. I have worked on his riverboat from time to time but it is a long way down to Southport. Lots of fun in Southport, though,” he said with a laugh.

  “I have sometimes seen the plant you described in a patch near my route back to the village,” George said. “In the morning I could show it to you on my way back. Of course there is no guarantee that this Charlie will be there.”

  “Someplace to start,” Ethan said.

  With that, Ethan and the girls climbed into their bunks for the night. George sat and stared at the flames of the campfire they had been sitting around for a long time before he too climbed into a bunk.

  *****

  The Edge World, consisting of one continent and a few small islands ruled, as much as could be said, by a Council of eleven men and women elected by the general populace. The Council members held their position with no pay except for actual government expenses, and a basic stipend available to anyone on Edge World who volunteered their time in a government agency or not-for-profit organization which provided social services.

  As a result, the Council members met only once a month for a maximum of five days, which encouraged rapid and short decisions in their meetings. The Council met on the first day of each month, alternating between Atlanta City and Southport, and at that time set the agenda and the length of the meeting.

  On the first day of Seventh Month, all eleven Councilors were present when Cora Batu, elected Chair at the first of the year, called the meeting to order. The records from the previous month had all been read, presumably, and they were approved without change. After the usual administrative actions had been taken, the Agenda for this Council meeting was addressed.

  “I see” said the Chair, “that the most important item for this session was to be action on Jacob Ericson’s, President of the Traders Association, request to move the Pawassa jungle tribe to another
location in the equatorial jungle that would hinder if not stop outright the attacks on the caravans that travel to and along the mountain ranges. These attacks have resulted in several deaths and the kidnapping of a child. Erickson’s rational is that the OSI has not been able to stop the attacks or even identify the culprits other than they are from the Pawassea tribe; if the caravans have to stop to protect lives we will lose much of our mineral exports that have to travel on these caravans; that one part of the jungle is the same as another if the Pawassa want to continue living in the jungle at all; and, the equatorial jungle was deeded to the World Government originally as a source of governmental funding and the Pawassa are technically trespassing on government property. Erickson has indicated that the Trader Association will provide $10 million credits to assist the movement of families or the education and settlement back in civilization. Is that substantially correct, Erickson?”

  “The Chair is correct as to our proposal. I might add that we are talking about less than ten thousand people, including women and children. That is equal to less than 5% of the population of Atlanta City alone. In the past they have not caused problems for anyone else and have been left alone to do whatever they do there in the jungle.”

  “While I certainly agree that our caravans need to be safe, moving even such a small number of people, against their will, seems too harsh,” Said the Chair. I also believe the tribe is much more civilized, to the point that they run a sophisticated transportation and trading operation up and down the rivers. However, some action must be taken. At the last meeting we asked that Captain Santos, OSI, was to attending this meeting and clear up our many questions. Is she here?”

  A tall, lean man in OSI uniform rose at the question. “Captain Santos disappeared on a trip to the Pawassa Tribe to speak with Chief Onn,” Said the Officer who identified himself to the Council as Lieutenant Cope. “One of our officers was killed in the aircar crash that Captain Santos was in. She survived but apparently was either injured and is on her way to a medical facility or she has been kidnapped.”

  Erickson looked startled at hearing this, but he said nothing.

  “Are you prepared to reply to the Council’s questions Lieutenant?”

  “I am sorry, Madam Chair, but I am only a few days released from Atlanta General Hospital and have not totally reviewed everything involving OSI the last few weeks. I can tell you that it appears that a complicated conspiracy that is likely to involve everyone on this planet is behind many, if not all of the major problems that have been happening. “

  “I am sorry to hear about Captain Santos and hope she is soon found. In any case, I really do not want to postpone action on this for another month. We are scheduled to meet the full five days so this item will be scheduled for action on the fifth day. If Captain Santos is unavailable at that time I would suggest you have one or more officers that know this case available for question.”

  “Thank you, Madam Chair, we will have that arranged,” replied Lt. Cope.

  “Madam Chair, I have some more information on the attacks and the death of Captain Santos,” said Erickson in a somewhat louder than normal voice. “It is not true that…”

  “Mr. Erickson, I believe you heard that this item will be discussed on fifth day, and not sooner. If you have some material you wish the Council members to read you may send them through normal channels. There will be no discussion on this today. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Madam Chair,” Erickson said prudently, “I understand.”

  “Fine. Now the next item we need to consider for the agenda consists…”

  Normally Lt. Cope would attend all of the Council meetings as the Public Affairs Officer, but for today he had Sgt. Evans, who had been acting as P.A. Officer while Lt. Cope was on medical leave, attend the rest of the meeting while he returned to headquarters. If they couldn’t find Captain Santos, or if she was seriously injured, OSI had serious problems. To his way of thinking, Erickson was trying to start a war.

  *****

  Amanda sat on the only piece of furniture in the room that resembled a chair. That, and a bed, were the sum total of objects in her small, tree-top room in which they were holding her prisoner. Whoever they might be. She knew there was a guard outside the room, and occasionally a young woman would bring Amanda food and drink. Amanda was not happy with whatever they were putting in her drinks. It was making her sleep most of the time, but she had to drink something to keep up her strength. Her clothes, torn and filthy, were tossed into one corner while she was currently wearing a one-piece shift that covered her from neck to feet. The material was translucence and did little to cover her and the leers from the young men that accompany the Medicine Men made her skin crawl. Her shoulder had pretty much recovered from the dislocation caused by the explosion of her aircar and she was sure she could best any of the young men but they were always with others. Her cage, although a fancy one, was high in the trees with only a small window looking out at the greenery. No escape that way. One of the young women of the tribe would sometimes come and sit on the floor, no other chair available, and work on a hand-weaving loom. She never spoke or answered questions, just sat and did her weaving. The girl also brought Amanda food and drink – small amounts of what looked like and tasted like mealie, and water to drink plus a glass of chocolate that probably contained a sleeping potent. Amanda couldn’t figure out why she sat in the room to do her weaving: certainly not as a guard, but she obviously enjoyed working there. A couple of times when her door was opened wide enough she could glimpse a guard sitting outside, obviously to ensure that Amanda didn’t go anywhere.

  Amanda was sitting on her bed watching a pair of bright red and blue streaked birds out her window when a young tribesman and a Medicine Man entered the room. Amanda quickly rose to her feet. The younger man had been the one that was constantly making crude remarks and putting his hands on her every chance he got. The Medicine Man looked to be about the same age as Amanda and had been polite every time he had seen her. He informed Amanda that the Chief did not want to keep her in captivity: If she escaped, what she knew about them could ruin the whole plan. So, the Chief had decreed that Amanda was to be executed first thing the next morning in a remote area of the jungle. Amanda was so stunned that she just stood and looked at him with a blank face, completely ignoring the crude and obscene remarks the other young man was making about her. When there was no response from Amanda, the Medicine Man turned and started back to the door. The crude young man asked the Medicine Man if since she was going to be killed in the morning could they play with her in the mean time? Amanda shudder knowing that play equated to sexually abuse and rape and they might even kill her while having their fun. The young man had grabbed Amanda’s shoulder when the Medicine Man turn towards the door and now felt up her breasts with his other hand. Amanda remained completely still as he started pulling her shift off. The Medicine Man stopped at the door and order him to stop and come with him. It was obvious to Amanda that the young man would be back, probably with several friends, and there was no way to stop them when they did. Unless she wasn’t there.

  Amanda had thought to be the perfect prisoner until they released her or she got to talk to the high mucky muck and where she could maybe talk them into releasing her. Those options just went out the window. There would be still one guard and the girl often sat and did her weaving after she brought Amanda’s dinner. While there were no one else in the room, Amanda picked up her mangled torn uniform that had been tossed into the corner. There was no part of the uniform that was wearable excepting her moccasins. If she escaped, she would be almost naked as the shift they gave her to wear would not stand up to a run in the jungle. Unless she could get something off her guard, which wouldn’t be much. No one in the village wore anything but a loin cloth, even the women.

  When she felt the hut shake a little Amanda thought it probably her dinner. It was the right time. Instead, when the door opened, two young men entered, one of which was the young man with the Medici
ne Man earlier.

  “I told you I would be back honey,” leered the young man, “why don’t you take off your shift for us and save us from having to do it.”

  Amanda stood but said and did nothing, trying to keep her feelings locked up.

  “I said take off your shift,” he said as he strode up to her and slapped her face.

  It was a hard blow and for several seconds she nearly blacked out. Amanda had stumbled back a little but he quickly stepped forward and with one hand grabbed and tore Amanda’s shift almost completely off.

  Amanda gritted her teeth but tried to keep her expression blank as the two men pushed her down onto her cot. The first man dropped his loin cloth, showing a large erection. He didn’t hesitate but started to climb on top of her. Amanda struggled, attempting to throw him off, but he hit her again on the side of her face, harder than before and which caused Amanda to nearly pass out. He then quickly entered her. Amanda still struggled for a minute but then gave up, knowing she was no match for the men. She then tried to imagine that it was Liam and not these native men that were fucking her. After the two men finished with her they left. Amanda just lay on her cot, drained of energy and feeling nothing but despair. The two men said on their way out that they would be back to see her later that night and would bring some friends. “I can’t let them kill me,” Amanda thought. “My girls need me.” By stages Amanda pulled herself together and started thinking how to escape.

  First things first. I have to take out the guard, Amanda said to herself. She looked over the small room again but there was nothing but a bed and chair, both looking very flimsy. Nothing else. She heard soft voices outside the door and then her girl came in with her evening meal. The girl was carrying the usual tray of salty gruel and a large container of a chocolate drink, very likely full of a sleeping potent. The girl set the tray down on the bed and then approached Amanda closely. “They are going to kill you,” she said in a very quiet voice. “They are going to do terrible things to you and then they are going to kill you. They shouldn’t kill you and do those…you know, those terrible things. They shouldn’t do that.”