Reconception: The Fall (12 page)

The man moved in her arms; face to face and hip to
hip they now began to rock together. The pace quickened, accented
by the chanting of the crowd, until the two bodies joined and
seemed, for one glorious moment, to melt together in the heat of
the conflagration into something else, something more.

The chanting stopped. The crowd waited. Apparently,
Garret thought, it's not over. After a moment, the man withdrew and
sat up. The woman remained on the ground. The man stood, his chest
out, his arms outstretched. Obviously, he was pleased with himself.
He began to sing a wordless tune that seemed to encompass the fire
and the deed just completed.

The crowd was hushed as he strutted around the fire
and the woman lying in the dirt. She sat up and smiled at him. He
looked at her for a moment, then slowly pushed her back down.
Smiling at him invitingly, she waited, but he didn't join her on
the ground. Instead, he looked at the crowd. The woman waited.

Suddenly, the man reached out and grabbed the
nearest male: Paren. Thrusting him forward, he gestured for him to
take the woman. Paren began to quickly remove his clothing. He was
already erect and obviously more than happy to contribute to the
ceremony. Getting down on his knees he crawled forward and in
between the legs of the woman.

The priest began to speak. As Garret's ears became
accustomed to the slurring of the words, translation became easier,
and he no longer had any difficulty understanding what was
said.

"And so the Great God took the Goddess and made her
his own. And in his supremacy and power, he gave her to others,
even unto the world of men."

The woman, a representation of the Goddess, Garret
realized, accepted the clumsy attentions of Paren. She gave better
than she got, welcoming him as if he were her own true love. But
that wasn't enough for the God. He reached into the crowd once
again and chose another man, this one even older and less
attractive (if that were possible) than the pilgrim.

Once again the crowd breathed its ecstasy as the
Goddess accepted him into her embrace. The newcomer was nothing if
not eager. His ministrations were quickly over.

"Thus was she given and thus was she taken. The Great
Goddess loved the God. Though he brought her low, even unto
degradation, still she opened her arms and gave of her bounty to
all men."

Suddenly, the God yanked the Goddess to her feet and
pulling back his powerful arm, he hit her across the face. She
reeled and fell. The crowd screamed. Though they knew what would
happen next, they welcomed it and gave themselves over to it.

A bowl of some kind of liquid was passed to Garret
and he sniffed at it before passing it along. Obviously it was some
kind of ceremonial drug. He had no intention of experimenting with
its effects.

The Goddess had fallen no more than two feet from
Garret. She looked up at him and held his eyes with hers. He was
about to reach out and help her to her feet, but she got up
herself. A trickle of blood leaked from her lip, which began to
swell. A tear coursed down her golden cheek. She turned to the
crowd and looked at them.

The God wanted more. He searched the crowd and his
eyes lighted on Garret. Garret felt him pinion him with his gaze
and tried desperately to retreat back into the mass of people, but
they would have none of it. Pushing him forward, they waited
breathless as he stood there, the fire hissing behind him, the God
waiting for him to act, the Goddess watching.

"Great God and Goddess," the priest continued, "we
ask forgiveness for our sins. As you struggle against each other
for sovereignty, we ask that you protect us, yeah, even from the
lightning bolts of your war."

"Um en."

Garret would not do what the other men had done. He
would not, and he could not. Any sexual response to the pageant had
died out when the God began to show his perversity. Now he only
felt pity for the Goddess and wished that he could save her from
further abuse.

The God gestured for Garret to remove his clothing,
and he shook his head. He watched as the God moved his powerful
body behind the Goddess and held her for him. Still Garret didn't
move. The crowd pushed him forward, pulling his clothes off and
pressing him against her. Garret could not stop them, but neither
would he contribute to this symbolic rape.

The God pushed her down on her knees and thrust her
head toward Garret's groin. He tried to retreat, but the way was
blocked by the solid press of bodies behind him.

No longer were they chanting. Now they were crying
for blood. "Take him!" they were yelling. "Take him!"

"Great God and Goddess," the priest intoned, "we are
small and puny and we cannot take sides in your fight. We beg to be
left in peace, and to be allowed to live. This man is willing to
sacrifice himself, to stand up before God and redeem Goddess. Do
you accept him?"

The Goddess nodded, and the God released her. They
stood arm in arm as Garret was held by the men behind him. A rope
was produced and his hands were tied. Paren came close and laughed
in his face.

Foothills: 2128

Following Garret's trail was not difficult, and
without the pack animals they made much better time than he could.
Still, they were days behind him, and Evie feared that the whole
trip had been, as Eagle put it, misguided. At the rate they were
going, they might catch up to Garret on his return trip.

That was better than not catching up to him at all,
Evie thought. At least, he won't be alone all the way back. She
knew he was in trouble; she could feel it in her bones. Eagle said
it was just worry, but Evie knew it was more than that. Anxiety
felt different than this mind-shattering loss. He was in trouble or
he was dead, and she didn't know how to get to him any faster.

Teller and Eagle had been wonderful. They'd pushed
themselves and the camels far beyond their limits, trying to
shorten the distance as quickly as possible, but they knew and Evie
knew that there was no getting past physics. The shortest distance
between two points was a line.

The moonlight on the road bathed the world in silver,
and Evie was admiring the cool beauty of it despite herself when
Eagle held up his hand and called a halt. "He left the road
here."

"Left the road? Why would he do that?" Evie
asked.

"I don't know, but the tracks disappear here."

"It looks like he was here just two or three days
ago," Teller mused.

Eagle agreed that the tracks were relatively fresh,
and suggested they rest awhile before following them into the
brush. Evie did not want to rest. She had to find Garret, and it
had to be soon. At her insistence, the camels stepped off the
road.

They were slowed down by the uneven ground. Evie's
bottom had gone numb hours earlier, so she no longer thought about
it. Her being was focused on finding Garret, and nothing else made
an impression. Not even the apparition that suddenly appeared in
front of them, holding up its shaggy hands and demanding they
stop.

As Evie reined in the beast, several others stood up
and joined their comrade. One by one, they stepped forward and
slowly formed a complete circle around the rescue party. There were
twelve of them. They seemed to be human, except for the excess of
hair on their hands and faces. It grew so thick, it looked a bit
like fur. Eagle edged his camel closer to Evie and spoke urgently,
"When I signal, ride hard toward the south. They can't stop
us."

Evie wasn't so sure they couldn't. There were a lot
of them; they moved closer. As several of the men reached for the
camels' reins, Eagle shouted, "Now!" and hit his camel on the rump
with the flat of his hand. Teller was right behind him as the
animals pushed past the strangers and fled.

Evie almost made it. Her camel shot forward and
cleared the attackers, but a particularly aggressive individual
lunged into her path and reached for the reins. She twisted the
animal's neck, trying to pull it onto another trajectory, but it
was too late. The man's hands closed on the reins and yanked
sharply backward. The camel's neck came up and sideways, and it
fell. Evie fell with it.

Before she even hit the ground she was dragged from
the camel's back and surrounded by an angry, gesticulating mob. A
tall man, his ragged clothes in disarray, shoved her backward. Two
men caught her and pushed her forward. Laughing the whole time,
they threw her around the circle like a rag doll until she was
dizzy.

After a while, the game seemed to pall, and one by
one the players left the group until only the tall one remained. He
stared at her and slowly drew a long knife from the sheath at his
side. Lifting it up, he grabbed a handful of her pale blonde hair
and neatly sliced it off.

Evie recoiled, but there was nowhere to go. As she
watched his hands pull away from her, the knife in one and her hair
in the other, she gasped in relief. Her throat was still
intact.

The tall man signaled, and two others wrenched her
arms behind her and tied her hands. Then the tall man mounted the
camel and led the group off into the wilderness. A rope had been
tied to the saddle, placed around Evie's neck, and was being used
to pull her along. She followed without protest as they dragged her
over what seemed like miles of empty prairie.

After a while, walking became automatic. At first,
they'd tripped her so they could laugh as she struggled to keep
from being dragged in the dirt. With her hands tied, it was almost
impossible to get up once she was down. Fortunately, the camel was
a lazy beast, and did not like pulling her. When she fell down, it
stopped walking, and after the first two instances, the leader
ordered the others to let her walk in peace.

It seemed like hours had passed. She had already been
tired from following Garret's trail most of the night, and when
they'd taken her it had been near morning. Now, it was full day,
and her body thrummed with exhaustion.

Up ahead was a village. She could barely make it out
in the glare of the sun, but it seemed to be constructed mainly of
odds and ends. Billboards were used for siding, tires were tied
together and made into ladders, jagged panes of broken glass became
windows.

Her captors untied the rope that joined her to the
camel and pulled her toward an isolated shack in the center of the
"town." Opening a door, they pushed her inside, then closed it
again. She was alone.

Outside she could hear them laughing, telling the
story of her abduction, no doubt. She didn't know what they wanted
with her, and she didn't want to find out. These people might be
human, but they were so degenerate, as far as Evie could see, as to
be beyond redemption. They might kill her; they might even do
worse.

Pulling herself erect, she began to explore the
shadows of her prison. There wasn't much to see. It was dark, the
only light coming in through cracks in the boards. The floor was
packed earth, and there were no windows. Hopelessly, she huddled in
a heap on the floor. Despite her resolve, tears leaked from the
corners of her eyes.

A small rough-edged rock sprouted from the floor. If
she could rub the rope against it she might be able to free
herself. Twisting herself onto her back so that her arms were under
her, she began to rub the rope against the rock.

Inside the hut it grew hotter as the sun climbed in
the sky, and despite her efforts and the ocean of sweat pouring off
her, Evie knew she hadn't made much progress. Her wrists were
scratched and bleeding, but the rope had not loosened at all.
Screaming in frustration, she pulled and yanked at it to no avail.
It's hopeless, she thought, and stopped struggling.

Northeast USA: 2128

Once off the mountain, the going was surprisingly
easy. The wind had scoured the remains of the road with grit,
gradually taking off its upper layers, but the dryness and lack of
rain had helped prevent further erosion. At the rate they were
going, barring accident or an impassable roadbed, they'd be in
Annapolis by tomorrow.

Morgan was feeling very cheerful, and decided that
fifty miles from the Habitat was far enough. It was time to let
Jersey Lipton in on his plans. Lipton would be no problem; he was
sure of it. Besides, he had the gun. Either way, the physicist
would do what was required.

Looking at the man sleeping on the seat next to him,
Morgan's lips curled in a sneer. It always amazed him how a man
could be so brilliant in one way and so incredibly stupid in
others. Here was a man who was deservedly famous for his work in
quantum mechanics and temporal physics, yet who had no clue when it
came to social relationships. It would please Morgan no end to
enlighten him.

He jabbed the older man with his elbow. "Lipton," he
prodded, "Hey Jersey, wake up. I thought now might be a good time
to let you in on the purpose of this little jaunt. You do want to
know, don’t you?" Morgan loved to draw events like this out. He
loved the flood of power that filled him as he held another man's
fate in his hands, and he liked to make the feeling last. It was
better than sex ... far better than sex, which all things
considered, had actually been something of a letdown.

Jersey opened his eyes and Morgan waited for the
pupils to narrow as awareness returned. "Did you ever think, old
man, how our lives have been wasted trying to make up for the
mistakes of our ancestors? Did you ever stop to wonder what would
happen if we didn't have to keep trying to restore the earth, and
could just go on to make our own lives livable? Well, that's what
we're doing out here."

"What? Making our own lives livable?"

"Exactly. By ending the earth project, we get to put
all those incredible minds in the Habitats to work in a more
positive direction. Instead of wasting them trying to undo the
mistakes of the old world, we put them to use creating a new
one."