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Sure you wouldn't like us to go and do some hunting for you?"
"Meat is poison. But there are vermin in the woods. If you could cut down on
their numbers, then we'd be grateful to you." He smiled. "That would be good."
They all looked up as the doors opened and a man stumbled in. He was more
ragged than anyone they'd seen, his clothing dirty, his chin unshaved. He was
escorted by two of the women, each of them with a handblaster at the waist.
All three sat down at the far end of one of the long tables, ignoring the
outlanders.
"Who's that?" J.B. asked.
"He is soon to be selected." Jehu finished his mug of water and wiped his
mouth. He stood, obviously not wishing to pursue the conversation further.
But the Armorer didn't want to let it He. "What does 'selected' mean? I've
seen prisoners in my time. Thaf s what he is, isn't he, Jehu?"
"No. He can leave if he wishes, on his own terms. But he has known since
birthing that he is of the people and belongs to Moses and the people."
Dorothy also stood, an arm resting lightly on Michael's shoulder. "If you stay
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here with us for another three days, then you'll see for yourself how blood
returns to blood here in our ville."
Krysty nodded. "I get it. Poor bastard's got his twenty-fifth birthday coming
up. That it?"
The young blond woman nodded. "Yes. That's it. Now-" she rubbed her hands as
if she were wiping away a problem " -now, I'm taking Dean and Michael on a
tour of the ville. Rest of you oldies can go where you please."
"Watch the wood gatherers," Jehu suggested, "and perhaps cull some of the
carrion from the deep forest."
"Sure," Ryan said. "Why not?"
THE FIVE FRIENDS RETURNED first to their quarters, to wash and ready
themselves for the day. The sun shone brightly, turning Shamplin Lake into a
silvered ocean. A gentle breeze whispered from the north, bringing the fresh
scent of pine needles. Out across the water a large fish leaped and turned,
the light catching the rainbow gleam of its scales.
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Krysty was in the men's part of the room, ignoring a scowl from Frank. "It's
really beautiful, lover," she said, beckoning Ryan to the view from the
window.
"Yeah. Long as you're under the age of twenty-five."
She turned to the young man who was lounging in the doorway. "I just don't get
why, Frank."
"Moses says it's what's needed."
"Why?"
He looked a little puzzled. "You don't ask 'why' to things Moses says."
"You mean you just do his bidding and work hard and then, just when most
people would be marrying and having children and settling down, you just offer
yourself up. And you miss all the good things."
Frank stared at the red-haired woman as if she was totally deranged. "We have
to do it. It's the way. Always was the way here in Quindley."
"No point in arguing," Mildred said. "Just like banging your head up against a
brick wall."
"It isn't even thought of." Frank was almost lost for words. "To argue about
anything Moses...
What he says is what happens. That's all."
"We going to get to meet him?" Ryan asked.
"You don't-"
"Yeah. I remember. Talk to him but not see him. When's that happen?"
"Soon. But if he wants it, then it'll happen. But if Moses decides not, then
it won't."
DOROTHY HAD VANISHED with Michael and Dean.
The rest walked over the causeway, in among the cultivated fields and
allotments. Jehu himself had come to lead them, his hair untied, streaming
about his shoulders, making him look like one of the children in the corn.
Most of the young men and women ignored the outlanders, though there was still
some residual resistance to the sight of Doc. But the old man strode along,
swinging his sword stick, smiling at everyone.
"A good, good morning to you all. May the bird of happiness fly up your nose,
children. Tote that bale and lift that barge, or something like that. So that
juvenile man river can just keep rolling along."
Not one of them spoke to him, several making the same sign to avert the eye of
evil.
Jehu paused. "Could you not talk to them, oldie Doc? It will make trouble.
Moses said you could walk around, but he would be unhappy if there was
difficulties."
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"And if Moses is unhappy, then everyone gets to be unhappy. That it, Jehu?"
Mildred grinned.
"Apart from there being nobody over twenty-five, I can't say there are many
black youngsters in
Quindley, either."
The frank and open face clouded over. "It isn't that we are precluded...
prejudiced? Is that the word?"
"Sure is," Mildred agreed. "Keep talking, sonny. Tell me how some of your best
friends are black."
"No, I have no friends who are black," he replied, straight-faced. "Moses
would welcome anyone..
.if they are young enough. In fact, he makes a point in his teachings to us
that we need new blood. There are not enough babies being birthed here in the
ville. But it seems that no black-
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I think there might have been one or two, passing by. But none of them have
stayed here. Never."
"Us black folk got more sense, land's sake we do."
"THE LITTLE ONES WILL BE just a way along this path here. We can walk up to
the top of the hill and look down on the part of the woods where we always
come to collect the broken branches for the fires."
"You got guards out?" J.B. looked around, the Uzi ready in his hand.
"There will be four with them, each carrying a long blaster. Moses ordered a
doubling of care when he heard about your finding the stickies." Jehu hawked
and spit on the path, rubbing it in with his feet, while making the horned
gesture with his fingers. "Satan's spawn," he said.
"You not had trouble with them before?" Ryan was taking deep breaths of the
morning air, still conscious that all wasn't completely well with the wound in
his neck. But Mildred had put on a fresh, much smaller dressing that morning,
reporting that the healing process was almost done.
"We have had small attacks by muties. But they aren't organized, and we
retreat to the ville and hold them off from there. But stickies are not
well-known."
"They can go around in little groups," Ryan said. "But I've known of camps of
dozens, and some of them have been well run. Mebbe you've been lucky."
"Quindley looks after itself." Jehu recited it like it was a great religious
truth.
THE SCENT OF BALSAM grew stronger as they walked in single file through a
sun-splashed path of the forest, climbing along a well-marked trail.
Krysty and Ryan were bringing up the rear when she suddenly stopped, pressing
her fingers to her temple.
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