ch 4 | Leda

Leda munched her sandwich as the four companions walked up the meadow behind John Howard's stables. The wind tugged at their hair as it funneled down between the Mid Hills, which held her family's homes, and the Yon Hills, a narrow band of steep knolls and hogsbacks left by a glacial river. Its remnant was Loud Creek. The meadow was a broad, gently sloping expanse which extended deep into the area north of the Chak. The two arms of the Northern Mountains almost met at the river, so John Howard had built his inn, and the stables to bottle the meadow, and raised his horses.

The twins, John Howard's latest children, were generally in the stables. Leda found them forking used hay out of Big Bay's stall. Big Bay was one of the smallest horses of John Howard's herd, but his offspring had such marvelous dispositions and sturdy legs that he was much in demand. People in the Village used horses more for drawing loads than long-distance racing and knew the worth of the mountain pony.

Leda had her eye on a black and white pied colt that she hoped her father would get for her. He came prancing up to them as they walked. She fed him a piece of her fruit and stroked his velvet nose. He blinked at her through a long, tangled white mane and nibbled at her fingers.

"Spot won't hardly need breaking, you keep bribing him like that," observed Peace. He was a solid boy with a round face, midway between Leda and Blade in age.

"Spot's a dog's name," observed Patience, his sister. They were both blonde and blue eyed. Folk called them the Bookends. "What are you going to call him, Leda?"

"I'll say his name when I know he's really mine," said Leda. She gave the little beast a slap on his flank and it reluctantly rejoined the other horses. He kept one eye on her as he did so, in case she might change her mind and produce another apple.

The quartet continued on across the pasture, more or less following the eastern fence line which meandered along under the overreaching branches of the wood. It was an old fence, of split rail construction, repaired and replaced here and there with sections of set posts and lumber from the new sawmill. The twins had eaten lunch earlier, and Blade and Leda were content to let them recount the goings on at the hilton. When they weren't on stable duty, the twins filled in wherever they were needed, as chambermaid, waiter, assistant cooks or bottlewashers. If not underfoot, they were almost always around and tended to pick up the most interesting tidbits of information.

"I've never seen it so busy, not since the last Fair, since Chicago and his bunch came back," said Patience.

"There are even some folk from the Inland Sea, decided to follow Chicago east," declared Peace.

"They sure know how to handle canoes," Patience observed. Blade had compared the Twins' conversation to a two-man saw. They tended to talk in point and counterpoint, and often finished each others sentences.

"Well, they live on the water, mostly. Their town is built out over the Inland Sea, like a huge dock, 'cause farmland is so scarce. They brought some huge bags of rice with them-"

"Which Aunt Margaret is cooking tonight, to go along with the venison."

"We met a husband and wife named Rashi and Della."

"The folk from the Sea, she means."

"They say that half their town lives on a big boat that sails up and down the Sea. Twice each year it comes in to dock.

"Then, they swap crews and go out again. They say that they connect with people all the way to the New West Islands."

Blade spoke up. "I'd like to go out again with Chicago, next time."

Leda looked at him in surprise. "Well, this is sudden. Where comes the wanderlust?"

Blade reddened and seemed to want to climb up inside his hat. "Well, all we have are the histories, and they talk about the Mississsippi River, and a state of California. They're gone now, and I'd like to see what's taken their place. I'll bet a town that's made of wood, and floats, could use a good carpenter."

"I'll help you look for one."

"Verry funny. I want to travel! I've never been further away than a hunting trip."

"Well, Chicago's going out again in about a month," said Patience.

"Do you think your father would let you go?" Peace asked.

"I don't know. Look, there's the trail." They had reached an unofficial highway used by the village children. A barely discernable path led into the forest in a saddle between two hills. A style had been built by the adults to protect the fence, so as a point of honor they left the meadow several meters before they reached it. Leda was the last to climb the fence, the weathered rails creaking and crumbling under her hands.

"This is going to break, someday," she observed, vaulting to the ground.

"Lots of life left in it," said Patience.

"Never happen," agreed Peace. The four moved off into the woods along the trail. As the brush obscured the meadow from view, one of the lower rails, termite-eaten, sighed and gave up. The section of fencing collapsed with a dull clatter.

The wind rattled through the leaves above their heads as they hurried along the path, ducking to avoid old spiderwebs. The hills mounded up on either side of the trail like knees under a blanket of leaves. Squirrels chattered and knocked twigs down on them. The young people chattered and threw twigs back, until Blade halted. The trail seemed to disappear into a stand of poplar saplings. He turned sideways to slip through the trunks, spreading his hands dramatically,and seemed to drop out of sight. Leda rolled her eyes at the twins as they followed.

Beyond the bushes, the ground dropped away in a series of deep terraces dozens of meters high. Straight ahead, the opposite hill had also been gouged away, and the layers of bedrock were visible through a threadbare veil of ivy and grapevine. At the bottom of the cut, an undulating ribbon of meadow ran in both directions. It had once been paved, but hundreds of summers and winters had shattered the concrete and given foothold to grasses and scattered trees. Here and there patches of eroded roadway peeked through like the bones of a prehistoric beast.

Blade had only dropped a meter or so to the first terrace. He stood with his back against the scored rock, his eyes distant, while the rest climbed down.

"An acorn for your thoughts," said Leda.

"Just trying to imagine this- this place as a road," responded Blade. "Filled with thousands of... cars, hurrying to get somewhere. When I close my eyes, the wind sounds like the ghosts of engines..."

"Hey, don't go morbid on us," said Peace. "I thought we were going swimming."

"We'd better move out, too: looks like we'll be getting some rain later," added Patience, indicating clouds gathering over the Mid hills, now visible from their position.

"Good point." Blade settled his hat more firmly on his head, and they headed east following the terrace as it ramped down to meet the old roadbed.

Blade asked Leda "If there were so many cars in the world Before, how come you don't see more old wrecks?"

She thought for a moment as they walked. Because of her father's work and interest in old records, she was regarded as an authority on historical questions. "Mostly, I guess, not many actually got out of the cities at the end. The ones that broke down along the way and were left eventually were scavenged for scrap. Daddy says that most of the steel the smithy uses is reclaimed. Some of the windows in the older houses in the village came from autos. It's been a long time since then. Anything left has either rusted away or been overgrown. Some of the lumps on the old highway, if you dug down into them, might hold old car bodies."

"And old bones," suggested Blade, with a shiver.

As they reached ground level, the twins ran past.

"Come on, you guys are so cheerful-"

"We should have left you at the stables-"

"You'd make the mule look like a jester."

Blade and Leda jogged along to catch up. The old highway ran downhill to the east, and it wasn't long until they reached their goal. The Loud Creek ran in a small but respectable canyon. Mostly it was composed of sections of rapids, alternating with deep, treacherously quiet channels, with one exception. At one point, during the Bad Years, something had taken down the highway bridges across the canyon. Most of it lay in chunks at the bottom, but one unbroken section had been tossed sideways. Other rubble and storm wash had filled in the chinks and a calm resevoir had formed behind the old roadbed, which lay at an angle against the stubs of the support columns. The edge of the slab somehow ended nearly level, and the creek now sheeted smoothly over an unnaturaly natural spillway at least twenty meters long. The old right of way had eroded into a gentle slope to the waters edge, carpeted with wild clover. The stubs of the bridge abutments rose from the greenery like giant's teeth.

The twins were already down at the water, stripping down to the cotton tunics that served as underclothing. Blade and Leda stood at the top of the hill on a last crumbling bit of highway. Before them was the border of the Chester National Forest. The government that had designated the area had dissolved long before the pavement. Now the Preserve was merely home to folk who had retreated to ground less abused or noticed during the final years of the old world. The City and its representatives kept the peace and provided assistance if asked, but otherwise made few demands. The Accords recognised the park boundaries as indicating the property of the new American aborigines, for the purpose of homesteading. Blade and Leda had been brought up to regard the area outside the preserve as dangerous and unhealthy. It was called the Badlands. They were not exactly forbidden to leave, just strongly discouraged from exploration to the east.

A glimmer of light above the hills across the river caught Leda's eye.

"Look Blade, a flyer!" Leda pulled her napsack off her shoulder and pulled out a small pair of binoculars, wrapped in a soft cloth. The lenses were scatched and fogged, but she could make out a figure, legs moving regularly on the pedals of his machine. His arm rose and fell, once. Before she could focus the optics properly, he passed behind some trees and disappeared from view. Leda sighed.

"He's gone. I think he was seeding with that cleanup plant. What I wouldn't give to be able to fly one of those things."

"I don't see why your father's so against the Settlers. I mean, with them handling the cleanup like they do, it helps everyone." Blade shrugged his shoulders."

"Daddy says that the cleanup really only benefits them, that they move right into areas they decontaminate. Of course, I think he's mainly against anyone who sides with the City so completely."

"How can anyone fight the City?" Blade looked at her sideways, from under his hatbrim. "I mean, you'd be fighting God himself."

"He's not against the City, at least that's what he says. I don't know. He just thinks we should do more for ourselves."

Splashes and shrieks arose from the surface of the water below. Leda suddenly pushed Blade into a thick clump of clover, then ran for the water, shedding her overshirt as she went.

"Last one in's a rotten egg!"

Several hours later, as they all lay in the grass on the far side of the stream, baking out their chillbumps in the afternoon sunlight, thunder grumbled in the distance.

"We need to get back, but I sure don't want to get wet again." said Leda.

"We could walk upstream to the log bridge, but that would take a while, and the blackberry bushes are murder." Blade shook his head, red hair flashing in the sun. "I'd hate to try it without trousers.

"Hey, is that Mitch?" Peace pointed over the water. They turned to see the O'Hara sibling and another figure working their way toward the riverbank. After a bit of shouting, their needs were communicated. Clothing was gathered and tied into small bundles with belts.

"Now what?" asked Leda.

"I think they're going to walk the spillway," said Blade, with a grin of admiration.

"Walk the spillway," cried Patience, "They'll break their necks!"

"Not to mention ruining our boots," said Peace.

Not a word was spoken as Mitch and his companion clambered from rock to broken concrete pillar to gain the edge of the tilted roadway. Carefully, but smoothly, they worked their way along the algae-slicked cement. Near the middle of the dam, the stub of a rust-stained support projected several meters higher than the pool level. Broken branches washing downstream had caught here, and Leda held her breath as Mitch had to cautiously squat and tug one-handedly at the thicket until it slid free and washed over and into the boil of rock and water below. Finally, the two were able to jump down and land on the bank to the enthusiastic applause of the small, shivering audience.

Mitch bowed like a troubador. "No problem, kids. Spend a month or two in a canoe and you'll be able to walk on anything"

The bundles were undone, and everyone scrambled to slip on tunics and lace up leggings. Leda stared at Mitch's companion as she tugged her boots on over her ankles.

"Who is she?" she whispered to Patience. Peace answered.

"Her name, I think, is Sasha. She's the daughter of the couple from the Sea." He raised his voice. "Hey, Mitch, who's your friend?"

"Please excuse my manners, folks. I figured I'd wait untill you all were decent. This is Sasha Demetrix, from the Inland Sea." She was a dark complected girl, with wavy hair drawn back into a ponytail with a silver and turquoise clasp. She wore trousers, and a loose blouse of deep blues. Leda ran a hand through her own shoulder length hair and frowned at her overshirt and leggings. Suddenly the earth tones, from hickory nut hulls and other natural materials, seemed mousy and dull.

Sasha smiled and shook hands as each was introduced. "I love this part of the continent. It is so flat where I come from- these hills and valleys are beautiful. And so many trees! How do you find your way about without getting lost?"

Blade laughed. "Sometimes we don't. But there are tricks to knowing the woods. I guess that when you grow up around something, it comes to fit you like an old pair of boots. You get to know every wrinkle and scuff."

Sasha laughed too, her teeth flashing white in her tanned face. "I see you have the soul of a poet. One who can turn a phrase prettily has great respect among us. When you live as close as we do in town and ship, the storyteller and songster help pass the time and ease tension."

Blade blushed to the roots of his hair. "Do you think so?"

Leda cleared her throat. "I hate to break in here, but I think we ought to gather some wood and bring it into our old camping place." They all looked up and realized the clouds were spreading almost to the far horizon. Thunder roared seemingly just over the next line of hills. Mitch looked at Leda approvingly.

"You always were the practical one, Ducks!"

This time it was Leda's turn to blush. She covered by turning away to hunt for broken twigs and branches at the edge of the trees. By the time everyone met back at the road a premature dusk had settled over the forest, and a few drops were dimpling the surface of the water. A short section of concrete supported by huge, rusting steel beams had survived the ancient cataclysm. Twisted rebar, now festooned with vines, projected from the crumbling cement. A pavement of hexagonal concrete slabs ran from the water up the slope to meet the old foundations of the bridge. Up near where the abutment and the roadway met, several of the blocks had been pried out and the hole was used as a fire pit. By the time they lit a fire, lightning was licking the hills all around, and rain sent its damp breath billowing under their shallow shelter. They clustered around the small blaze. Leda noticed that Blade had ended up sitting between Mitch and Sasha. Mitch seemed not to notice, or at least, to mind. For some obscure reason this seemed to improve Leda's mood.

Sasha spoke up. "Mitch says that this was a road in the old days."

"Not just a road, Sash, an interstate." Blade poked at the small fire with a branch, waved it in a wide arc. "It ran out to the coast, and down the edge of the continent. Of course, most of it's under water now, or bombed out- there's even an atomic bomb crater that it runs through, out in the badlands to the southeast. In the old US, there were so many cars that they needed two roads as wide as this one to carry them all. You can see the rest of the old one- there, downstream, what's left of it." Sasha craned her neck to see over the dam. Another slab draped itself over the stream bed about fifty meters out. It was cracked and crumpled, but provided a fordable crossing since part of the creek ran beneath it.

"Shouldn't we try to get home that way?"

Mitch spoke up. "I don't think so. It's a harder climb down there than it looks, plus the rain and the fact that it's almost dark. I think we're stuck here at least until the storm stops, and probably until morning."

"But we'll miss the venison and rice Aunt is cooking" wailed Peace.

"Sasha, will your folks be worried about you?" asked Patience.

She shook her head, the ponytail bobbing about her shoulders. "They consider me able to take care of myself."

"I think everyone knows where we were headed," Leda said. "They'll figure out that we're all together. If we don't show up by breakfast, then they might start worrying."

"So, let's start swapping stories," Blade said. "Like Sasha says,it helps pass the time."

"Sash, you go first, since you're our guest," Mitch suggested. "Tell them the one about the Inland Sea."

Sasha nodded. "This is a very old story, told by our Elders. Songsters can't wear the earring, which is kind of like a diploma, if they can't recite the story back to the Elder, word perfect. I'm not a Songster, at least, not yet, so I'll just have to get it as close as I can." She sat up straight with her hands on her knees, the fire glinting on high cheekbones.

"On the day the sea came in, the foundations of the plains were shattered. On the day the sea came in, the land knelt and the towers of man bowed their heads." Her voice was a sing-song chant. "On the day the sea came in the great river rose up and flowed back on itself. The works of our hands were swept away on the day the sea came in. The River-Bell and the Mem-Fish rode on the wave as a great darkness covered the earth. The waves burned and the air itself caught fire. On the River-Bell was the Cap Stamos, on the Mem-Fish was the Cap Ross. The great darkness did last for the space of three days, and other ships did pass, but all on them were dead. The waves did bring the Orleans Queen near the ships, and Cap Stamos and Cap Ross did cause lines to be cast to the Queen, and her dead were given to the water. Cap Ross did appoint Purser Cheong as Cap of the Queen, and a third of the folk of both vessels did pass over to her. Great waves tossed the ships, but the lines were strengthened and held. On the fourth morning the sun could be seen, but no shore, only the broken tops of a city's buildings, to which the ships were then moored. That night did the city sink yet further, so that the mooring lines must be cut, or the ships be drawn under.

On the fifth day, the buildings had disappeared. It was decided to turn the ships to the east, and so it was done. The hearts of many did fail with fear, for it was thought that the earth had perished. On the sixth day the fuel for the engines was gone, and on the eighth day the food. On the evening of the tenth day a great light was seen on the horizon, and out of that light did come craft with no wings or engines which rode on the air, and out of them a voice was heard.

'Fear not, for the City of God has come,' and Glorious Ones appeared on the decks of the ships and did minister to the hurts of those aboard, for many had been burned by the fire or were ill with other diseases. They recieved the communion of the Tree, and that day became the first day of the Year of Hope. The ships were told of land further to the east, and were offered help to resettle. A choice was also given, to return with the Glorious Ones to the eastern lands, and some did agree. Two hundred thirteen souls remained with the Three ships-" Sasha broke cadence, and smiled. "A songster must remember all the names." She resumed her chant. "Ta-dum, ta-dum these are the names of the last families of the Prior World, which passed away when the sea came in. The craft of the City of God caused a wind which did blow on the Three ships until they reached the new shore of the Inland Sea."

She paused. "It goes on and on, about the founding of Novopor, which is what we call our town. The City helped us a lot, teaching us how to grow rice, and tailoring a kind of coral to help us build and repair our boats."

"So, your people remember the Bad Years, but just from an eyewitness viewpoint. Kind of line-of-sight reporting," said Blade.

"The boats our people were on were a kind of pleasure craft. We had little in the way of sophisticated electronics or machinery. Our Elders knew roughly what was going on, but the old US had cut itself off from the rest of the world. How about your people? Where did you come from?"

Leda looked at Mitch, since he was the senior member of their group, and found that she was being regarded from around the fire by five pair of eyes.

"What?" she protested.

"Leda's father is our town's archivist." Mitch explained to Sasha. "I slept through that part of my schooling. Leda can give us the inside scoop, I bet."

"Well, Daddy did finally show me the Last Tapes. We're a lot different from your people, Sash; Chak village has grown up slowly, with people joining us gradually over the years. We've had more chances to gather and preserve the old records." The Last Tapes were a collection of video assembled from the hours and hours of news reports prior to the Rescue. The quality was poor, the fault of re- and rerecording, but it was powerful. From what she could make out, a series of natural disasters had occurred. Various announcers and reporters framed in somewhat wobbly camera eyes struggled for composure and to make themselves heard over the rumblings of earthquakes and the crash and boom of explosions from various sources. Apparently a near miss by an asteroid and some direct hits by orbiting debris had triggered movement on just about every fault line on the planet.

The announcers were covering tidal waves, earth tremors and volcanoes. Leda had no background in historical geopolitics, but she gathered that the situation was tense. All of the various factions seemed to feel they were being attacked, and so the disasters were compounded by military action. The video ended with a disheveled news anchor finally confessing that they had no real grasp of the total situation, and links were being lost like spiderweb in a hurricane.

"The last thing the video showed was the camera zooming in on the poor man. I remember seeing his mouth tremble. Just before the screen went black, he said 'God help us. You're on your own. '"

Sasha suddenly screamed, and everyone lifted at least two centimeters off the ground.

"What's that!" she cried, pointing back down toward the water. From the darkness, a bulky shape loomed from the weeds at the water's edge. It steadily advanced toward them. Mitch stepped foreward, and the younger children huddled behind him. There was a sharp sound as the thing's feet met the concrete surface.

Leda suddenly giggled. "It's my pony!" The sound resolved itself into clopping hooves. No one spoke for a moment, then they all collapsed into helpless laughter. The pony made its way up the slope and nosed Leda in the ribs, still searching for another apple.

Sasha's dark face was ruddy, but not only from the firelight. "I- I'm sorry, but we don't have horses back home. I've heard stories- it might have been a bear!" She started to laugh.

"Oh, my!" wheezed Patience, holding her ribs.

"Sasha, meet Spot," said Peace.

"We have dogs named Spot," Sasha looked around in bewilderment as everyone broke down again.

Chapter 5