Children of a New Earth (17 page)

“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.”

“How do you know we can trust them?” Mark pressed. “They are a strange couple.”

“Yeah,” Shawn put in, “they’re outlaws and everything. They could be trying to sabotage the mission.”

“They are not outlaws,” Amy shouted. “They are just a nice, old couple.”

Shawn fell silent but Mark would not give up so easy. “They were outlaws, once.”

“So were we,” Daniel muttered.

“That’s a lie!” Patrick snarled. “Take that back.”

“It’s not,” Daniel insisted. “It’s like Roger said, the president declared martial law. All our parents were military, weren’t they? Why didn’t they go? Why didn’t they do something?”

“They had to stay,” Shawn said, “to protect the ranch.”

“Look, you heard Roger,” Luke said. “It wasn’t the legitimate government anymore. It’s not outlawed if the government isn’t legit. Not for the ranch or for the Akiras.”

They all fell silent for a long while.

It was Mark that broke the silence. “I still say they’re weird. Akira. What sort of name is that?”

“It’s Ruth’s family name,” Kurt replied. “Her family is all dead, except maybe some distant relatives back in Japan. Roger had surviving relatives, but her name would die out. Family is very important to her.” He hesitated like he didn’t know quite how to say it. “It has to do with her religion somehow. Anyway, Roger told me about it this morning, how he took her name instead of the usual way around.”

“So that’s why she is so sad about not having children,” Amy said. “Her name will die after all.”

“I think so.”

“What? The man taking the woman’s name?” Mark interrupted, “I told you they were weird. There’s no way I would ever agree to that.”

“Carol’s family wouldn’t have let you,” Amy sneered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know.”

“A man has the right to establish discipline in his own house,” Patrick said, jumping to Mark’s defense. “It’s one of the rights we fought to protect.”

“If a bitch don’t know her place, a bitch gotta learn,” Mark said. “If Luke ain’t figured that out yet . . .”

“Enough!” Luke yelled, turning on Mark. Mark blanched but held his ground. Luke turned beet red and huffed slightly but did not speak. Finally Mark looked away. Luke turned back and led them on without speaking again.

Is that what they think?
Amy wondered bitterly.
Am I Luke’s bitch?
Just let one of them say something to her. She’d pound them flat. She stared around her, trying to figure out whom to be mad at. Mark? Of course him, but none of the others showed any surprise.

He eyes narrowed suspiciously. She and Luke were just friends. Had he been giving the other boys the impression there was something more going on?
If he has, I’ll kill him,
she thought savagely.

By late afternoon the wide plain had become dotted with trees and started to slope down into a river valley. At the lip of the valley, a solitary form rose. Luke, still ahead and having not spoken since the earlier outburst, stopped and looked through his binoculars.

“What is it?” Patrick asked.

“Some sort of pagoda,” Luke replied.

“What’s a pagoda?” Shawn asked.

Luke’s brow furled. “It’s like a picnic shelter, a roof but no walls.”

“Oh. Well, why didn’t you just say picnic shelter then?” Shawn asked.

“Because some of us have brains,” Amy muttered under her breath. Luke didn’t answer.

“There’s something in it,” he continued. “But I can’t make out what it is from here.”

“It’s too early to be the village,” Kurt said.

“Yes, definitely.” Luke replied.

“Could be some sort of border station,” Patrick said. “The guards will undoubtedly be armed. Perhaps it would be prudent—”

“No,” Luke said firmly. “That’s exactly why we put them away.”

Patrick looked angry but said nothing.

“I think it’s a statue anyway,” Luke said putting his binoculars away. “It’s not moved at all. Let’s go find out.”

They made their way forward. Mark and Shawn grumbled to each other about going into danger unprepared. Amy wished they’d shut up. All this talk about hidden enemies was making her jumpy. Enough of it, and she’d be seeing enemies everywhere as well.

As they approached, the pagoda resolved itself into focus. It had a bell-shaped top, like pictures Amy had once seen of China. Inside was a huge black statue of a woman sitting. Her back was to them, but they could see she had her knees up with her hands on them. Her head was thrown back in a silent scream. Amy shivered involuntarily.

As they got closer, Amy noted some rust spots on the statue. Who made statues out of metal? It made no sense. Amy was drawn to see what lay on the other side of the statue.

“Gross!” Mark spat as he circled to the front. Moments later, Amy circled around far enough to see what Mark was commenting on. The statue graphically portrayed a woman giving birth. Between her spread legs was the horned head of a bull.

“What kind of sick thing is that?” Patrick demanded from behind her.

Amy felt something pull at her gut. She was torn. Part of her agreed with Patrick. But the statue also held a strange power. The woman’s face, thrown back, was not entirely visible. What showed held an unearthly agony.
Like she’s suffered so much,
Amy thought.

“It’s ungodly, whatever it is,” Kurt said.

“Here’s an inscription,” Luke said. He read, “In the third year of our fight for independence, 912 people died here. One year later under a harvest moon, 1,317 weapons of mass destruction were sacrificed to make this. Blessed be the Cult of the Iron Mother.”

“Cult of the Iron Mother?” Daniel asked. “What’s that?”

Luke shrugged. “Well, Roger and Ruth said there were Pagans, and that they believed in the mother earth. My guess is this is theirs.”

“But what’s it mean?” Kurt asked.

“I don’t know. We’ll have to ask someone,” Luke said.

Amy put one hand on the statue. Though in the shadow now, it was still warm from the sun. Mark and Patrick both made noises of disapproval. “She touched it,” Shawn commented. Amy was irritated by their juvenile revulsion.