Seed

by Michael Edelson

  There was a thick wooden post lying next to the hole. It was a about ten feet long and had a big nail sticking out near the top. Max was standing by the door of his cabin, watching, while Ryan stood nearby, his good hand hovering near the butt of his holstered sidearm. The gathered crowd was silent, but many people exchanged troubled glances. Alex noticed Yael among the gathered throng, and for a moment stood frozen, eyes interlocked with hers. The situation forgotten, he started to move towards her.

  “About time, Captain America,” the loudmouth said. “Get me the hell out of here!”

  “Alex,” Max said. “There is no need for you to be here. You’ve left one of our work camps unguarded.” The governor’s voice snapped him back to the moment, and he turned to glare at Max.

  “What the hell is going on here?” he demanded. “What are you going to do with that post?”

  Max narrowed his eyes. “We are going to carry out a punishment. That man there…” He pointed to David. “Is going to be flogged.”

  “That’s bullshit!” David screamed.

  “Flogged? What the fuck do you mean flogged?” What was it with these people and flogging?

  Max was unfazed by Alex’s interrogation. “I mean tied to that post, as soon as Reynard and Bob finish installing it, and beaten with a fiberglass fishing rod. I would have preferred a whip, but we don’t have one handy.”

  Alex blinked, not sure how to respond. Dealing with Max was most unlike dealing with one of his flunkies. He had to be careful, lest he give Max an opportunity to discredit or embarrass him. Or worse.

  “What’s he done?” Alex asked.

  Max smiled. “Now we’re getting to the heart of it, aren’t we? Let’s try being reasonable out of the box next time, shall we? Instead of coming out half cocked? What he did, Alex, was to steal from the warehouse.” The way Max glared at him almost made him cringe. There was more than a hint of accusation in that tone, directed squarely at Alex for the incident with Bob.

  “Steal?”

  “That’s right. He entered the warehouse a little while ago, claiming to want his ration of dehydrated meat, and came out, carrying a single package. Or so it appeared. The warehouse guard quickly searched him and found five more packages hidden on his person. That is fifteen days worth of extra rations. An example must be made.”

  Alex frowned. “Flogging, that’s…well…harsh. Uncivilized. Can’t you think of something a bit less cruel and unusual?”

  “We could always confine him, Alex, if that would make you happy. But for how long? What is an appropriate sentence for a man who would steal from his community and endanger its people?” Max was on a roll, chest thrust out and eyes blazing with self righteous fire. “How long shall we lose a valuable worker? And as I have no way to lock a door to prevent it being opened from the inside, how long shall we lose a guard to stand watch? Can you spare one of your people for a week? A month?”

  Alex was about to protest, but he realized that Max had outmaneuvered him. There was no way to be sure if Max was telling the truth about being able to lock doors, but Alex had no choice but to believe him, at least until he could verify it using his own terminal. He knew he could call off the flogging, but then Max would score a crucial victory in their power game—he would establish the dangerous precedent of being able to allocate Alex’s soldiers to his own tasks. He could easily neutralize one of his people by confining David for a month and forcing Alex to set a round the clock guard. More like three people, considering watch rotations, though Max didn’t seem to be aware of that.

  “I guess you’re right,” Alex said grudgingly.

  “What?” the loudmouth demanded. “You’re going to let him flog me?”

  “You shouldn’t have stolen the food,” Alex replied without much enthusiasm. He turned to Yael and saw her watching him, but he wasn’t certain if it was concern or criticism he saw in her eyes. He felt shame nonetheless. Every time he confronted Max directly, the man defeated him soundly.

  Reynard held the post in place while Bob, standing on a short wooden ladder, struck it with a sledge hammer until it sunk several feet into the ground. They pushed a struggling David to the post, then hooked the zip tie binding his hands to the nail near its top, now about seven or eight feet off the ground. With his hands secured up high, David was held firmly in place, facing the post, his back to the crowd.

  “I’ll kill you!” David screamed, tugging at the post, which leaned under the strain. Reynard drew his pistol, raised it in the air and fired a shot. Alex cringed from the blast as the crowd pulled back, clasping their ears. David stopped struggling.

  “There will be no more of that,” Reynard commanded, then put his pistol away and picked up a fishing pole, which had been stripped of all of its fittings. It was a thick fiber glass stick, longer than the post was tall. Reynard took his place behind David while Bob pulled the man’s t-shirt over his head and left it hanging off of his arms before stepping out of the way. Reynard looked at Max.

  “Begin,” the governor said.

  Reynard pulled the pole back, then whipped it forward, blindingly fast. It whistled as it pierced the air and struck David’s back with a sickening slap. The loudmouth’s head snapped back and he howled in pain, a primal scream of terrible agony that made Alex recoil. He was reminded of Haag’s cries after the artillery simulator had shredded his left hand, but somehow this was worse.

  Reynard hit him again, and again, and each time he screamed, each time louder than before. David’s face was contorted, wet with tears and sweat, his back red with blood that welled freely from split skin.

  “Enough!” Alex shouted, but Reynard continued. Again he hit him, and again.

  “Enough!” Alex screamed louder. Reynard hesitated and looked at Max, who motioned him to continue. Reynard pulled back even farther and hit him once more. David’s scream was an inhuman shriek, terror and pain combined. Those watching recoiled from the sound, and Alex saw a tear roll down Yael’s face.

  “I said enough!” he roared, and took up his carbine. Flicking the selector to auto, he pointed the weapon in the air and held down the trigger. Sonic booms thundered across the open sky as the weapon kicked in his hands, a fountain of ejected brass arcing through the air. One shiny case for each thunderbolt, impossibly loud, an atomic fireball to the stick of dynamite that had been Reynard’s pistol blast. Fifteen shots, maybe twenty, and Alex released the trigger and lowered the weapon, though he still held it menacingly. He glared at Max, who was cringing, hands over his ears, along with most of the others. Only Sandi, Ryan and Yael stood their ground.

  Reynard stepped away from David, the pole laying discarded at his feet.

  “I said that’s enough,” Alex repeated, softly, and this time everyone paid attention.

  The look of hatred on Max’s face would have been frightening if not for the adrenaline coursing through Alex’s body. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than for Max to order his goons to attack him so that he could put them down once and for all, then turn his weapon on the governor and put an end to a life of tension and conflict.

  “You’ve made your point Alex,” Max said, his tone impossible to read. “Reynard, take David to the infirmary and have Barbara patch him up. I trust that the example has been made, despite the rather loud interruption by our military liaison.” He turned to Alex. “I want to see you in my office first thing tomorrow morning. I have something of importance to discuss.” His voice was venomous, but Alex found himself nodding. The ebb of adrenaline left him shaky and uncertain.

  Max turned and walked into his cabin, slamming the door shut behind him. His goons, still glaring at Alex, took David off the pole and led him away. He was complacent, beaten, cringing at every touch and movement. Alex should have stopped it sooner.

  Chapter 23

  As the crowd began to disperse, mumbling and looking over their shoulders, Yael walked up to Alex, her arms folded across her chest. She seemed hesitant and unsure.

  “Hi,” he said, t
rying to smile, but wasn’t sure if he succeeded.

  “Hi,” she echoed, and looked down at his hands. He followed her gaze and realized he was still holding his rifle. He set the weapon to safe and released it, letting it hang free on its single point sling.

  He started to speak, but couldn’t come up with anything and closed his mouth. Being close to her thrilled him, but it had been so long since he’d seen her, he didn’t know what to think. She had been absent from his life for as long as she had been in it. How he felt had not changed, but what of her?

  “Do you have some time?” she asked. “To talk?”

  Alex turned to Sandi and Ryan. “Can you two go back to the boats? Ryan, I know it’s your day off, but…”

  “No problem, sir,” he said quickly. Alex handed Ryan his rifle, and he and Sandi set off at a brisk pace towards the barrier. Yael turned and started walking towards the beach. Alex followed.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “That must have been hard on you. I mean you must have felt responsible.”

  “I guess,” he said, and wondered how she understood so clearly. “I wasn’t the one being beaten though.”

  “We can wait,” she said. “Talk later, when you’re feeling better.”

  He shook his head. “Nah. I’m fine. How was your shiva?” He felt stupid for asking, but didn’t know how else to phrase it.

  “Hard,” she said softly. “Very, very hard.”

  “I’m sorry. If you want to wait…”

  “So I understand I’m supposed to work,” she said, ignoring the offer. “Do you recommend the boats or the farm? Or maybe fishing on the beach? I have to do that anyway, I’m sick to death of the powder.”

  “Are you kidding?” he asked, surprised. “You’ve been drafted, young lady. You’re on my team. We could use the help, too. Working in pairs leaves only one person in the village and not enough down time. And I still need a lieutenant.”

  She nodded. “I didn’t want to assume.”

  He stopped and put a hand in front of her to halt her. They were at the outskirts of the beach next to a stand of palm trees. The broad leaves provided some shade from the sun, which was almost directly overhead. Alex took a look around and didn’t see anyone. That was just how he wanted it.

  “That’s ridiculous,” he said. “Of all the others, you would always be my first choice, even if I didn’t…” He didn’t let himself finish.

  She put her hands on her hips. “Even if you didn’t what?”

  “Are we having that conversation now? The one we discussed last time we saw each other?”

  “I suppose we are.”

  He nodded. “Good. Then you go first. You know how I feel, I’ve made it obvious, but you’ve been dodging the bullet ever since I started shooting.”

  “Is everything about guns and violence with you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. He recognized her mood, she was digging in for a fight, and it wouldn’t do, not now.

  “Is everything about avoidance with you?” he countered. “You asked me to talk, but now you’re the one looking for a way to back out of it. Well I won’t give it to you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I met you. I’m in love with you, and you’re going to have to deal with it.” He glared at her as he said it. She took a step back and her mouth fell open.

  “You’re…” she said, hesitating, clearly shocked. “You’re in love with me?”

  “Does that surprise you?” he demanded, still angry.

  “Yes!” she said, reclaiming lost ground with a step forward. “You don’t even know me! You don’t know anything about me! You don’t know what my favorite color is, what I like to eat, whether I’m a democrat or a republican, nothing!”

  “All that stuff is bullshit. It means nothing. I know what I need to know.”

  “I’m a democrat,” she said, turning away.

  “What?”

  “A democrat. Social safety nets, universal heath care, that sort of thing. But I don’t believe in gun control, if that makes you feel better. I think it’s stupid.”

  He tried to stop himself, but couldn’t, and burst out laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” she demanded.

  “Nothing,” he said, calming himself. “Everything. I tell you I love you and you tell me you’re a democrat. Can we get on with it now?”

  “Get on it with what?”

  “This conversation we’re supposed to have.”

  “I don’t know what else to say.”

  He stared at her and sighed. “Fine, if you want me to do all the work. How do you feel about me? Does it matter to you that I’m not Jewish?”

  She looked up at him, her expression unreadable. “Yes, it matters.”

  Her words hit him hard, and he felt his legs turn rubbery. “I was afraid it would. Is there anything I can do? Convert, maybe?”

  She studied him uncertainly. “You would do that for me?”

  “I would. I mean I can’t change what I believe, or rather what I don’t believe, but I’d do whatever else I could to make it work.”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “No, just going through the motions wouldn’t be right. Besides, I would never ask you to do that.”

  “If it means we can be together…”

  “It’s stupid,” she said, and he saw her eyes moisten. “I’m probably the only Jew left alive.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true,” he said. “There are other colonies.”

  “So what I’m supposed to leave this one and go find them? Just to find a Jew? When the person I love is right…” She stopped and put a hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

  He stepped towards her and grabbed her by her shoulders. His fingers felt the ridge of a bra strap through the thin cotton fabric of her shirt.

  “What did you just say?” he demanded, smiling triumphantly.

  “You heard me.”

  “You just nearly had a shit fit after I told you I loved you, and all this time…”

  “I just didn’t think you had it in you,” she said, but it was obvious she wasn’t serious.

  “Say it,” he said. “I want to hear you say it.”

  She looked up at him and sighed, resigned. “Fine. I love you. Are you happy now?”

  “Yes.” And it was true. He was extremely happy, much more than he had a right to be in his situation. Max, the government, the world, none of it mattered.

  “What if we have children? Can I raise them with my beliefs?”

  “Whoa there!” he said. “Aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves?”

  “There’s no sense in starting something you can’t finish. I don’t do flings, so if you’re not serious tell me right now.”

  “Good point,” he said. “And I’ve never been more serious about anything or anyone. If we don’t kill each other long enough to have children, you can teach them your traditions, and I will teach them my way, and they can make up their own mind when they get older.”

  “Fair enough,” she said. Her hands pushed forward and wrapped around his waist. “Can we observe the Sabbath? Holidays?”

  “You can,” he said. “I’ll participate, but I’m not fasting or not working on Saturday and stuff like that. Is that okay?”

  She nodded.

  “Do I get to kiss you now?” he asked, leaning forward. “Or do we have to get married first?” He caught the scent of strawberries in her hair and his pulse quickened as he squeezed the firm flesh of her shoulders.

  She smiled. “You can kiss me, dummy.”

  He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her as she rose up on her toes. Their lips met, and he felt such an intense release of pent up desire that he lifted her off her feet, holding her so tightly he was afraid he would hurt her. About to lose himself to a lust that threatened to overwhelm him, he pulled away and set her down, though he couldn’t bring himself to let her go.

  “I didn’t know you were allowed to do that,” he said.

  She raised one eyebrow. “Do what?”

&nbs
p; “You know, the tongue thing.”

  She smiled. “I’m not a religious nutcase, Alex. Jews are allowed to have some fun.”

  “That’s good to know,” he said. “But we’d better not do that again.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know if I can control myself,” he admitted.

  “Who said I want you to control yourself?”

  He blinked. “But I thought… I mean religion and sex…”

  “Did you lie when you said you loved me?” she asked.

  “No way.”

  “Neither did I. This isn’t a casual affair.”

  “So we can…”

  “I think we should stop talking now,” she said, and kissed him again.

  He scooped her up under her knees and carried her to his cabin, fortuitously close by. Locking the door behind him, he fought her all the way to the bed as they struggled to discard their clothing. She tugged furiously at his chest rig, working zippers and fasteners as he snaked his way out of his sling and piled his weapons and gear on the floor. He almost tore her shirt as he pulled it over her head while she kicked off her skirt and panties.

  Her passion was as combative as her personality, and he found that this excited him in a way he had never before experienced. Everything with Yael was a struggle, and as he muscled her down onto the bed the thrill of physical dominance coupled with desire in a primal cocktail of sexual fervor. Worried that he was going too far, he forced himself to withdraw, but she glared at him impatiently and pulled him back to her. Thus reassured, he renewed his onslaught with full intensity.

  Her fingers dug into his back, her teeth sank into his chest and shoulders almost hard enough to make him cry out. She was guiding him, telling him what she wanted, letting him know her limits. Holding back his release was torture, but he needed to defeat her, to force her to orgasm before he succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure of the struggle. This was a type of lovemaking he had never imagined, so much more than the simple and almost casual coupling of his past relationships.