Fallen Stars, Bitter Waters

by Gilbert, Morris

“Pass, friend,” David said, coming forward and smiling.

  Xanthe was bundled up in a heavy coat, and a thick fur cap was pulled down over her ears. “Hello, David,” she said, somewhat shyly.

  “Xanthe, it’s good to see you.” David put out his hand. She took it, and her grip was as hard and firm as a man’s.

  “I brought some supplies. You want to help me? I’ve got something else, a present for Brother and Sister Mitchell.”

  The men began to bring in the boxes and bags that Xanthe had brought. They made quite a pile on the floor of the kitchen, and the women were rummaging through with cries of pleasure.

  “A whole case of coffee! We’ve been out for weeks,” Allegra cried, holding up a Proto-Syn red-labeled can.

  “And look at this—sweaters,” Genevieve exclaimed. “I’ve been freezing to death.”

  Xanthe had gone outside, and when she reentered the cabin, she held a cat in her arms.

  “Well, what in the world have you got there, daughter?” Jesse Mitchell exclaimed.

  Xanthe put the cat down, stroking its back. “What do you think it is, Mr. Mitchell?”

  Jesse examined the animal thoughtfully. “Well, it looks sort of like a cat—but somehow the plan went wrong. Never saw a cat like that.”

  Xanthe laughed. “He’s a Manx.”

  “A Manx, you say! He sure is a strange-looking creature.”

  The Manx was a mottled brown and white. His irregular markings had given him a most comic expression, for one-half of his mouth was dark and one-half was white. He seemed to have a lopsided smile. The most startling features of his breed were the lack of a tail and extraordinary long hind legs.

  “That poor cat’s got his tail cut off ! He backed into something,” Jesse observed.

  “No. All Manxes are that way. None of them have tails.”

  “Look how long his hind legs are,” Noe said. “He sure is a peculiar-looking cat.”

  “I like cats,” David said, affectionately stroking the Manx. The cat nuzzled his hand and pushed against his fist when he doubled it up. “I always wished I could have one. Never thought I’d see a Manx.”

  Early in the century, all exotic pets such as parrots, ferrets, and snakes had been outlawed. A strict national program to sterilize stray cats and dogs had been enacted, with the result that within twenty years all of them had died out. Only registered companion animals had then been available, and the licenses for them had become so difficult to obtain, and so expensive, that very few people had dogs or cats. The Man and Biosphere Project Protocols disapproved of domesticated animals. The philosophy dictated that cats and dogs were merely wild animals that humans had perverted and should be eliminated from the earth altogether.

  “Manx cats are very rare,” Xanthe was saying. “I believe there are fewer than one hundred of them left in the world, and they’ve all been sterilized. So I guess you could say that makes Mannie here priceless.”

  Jesse shook his head. “A cat—and a clown-looking one at that.

  Who would believe what this old world’s come to?”

  “Where did you get him, Xanthe?” David asked. Mannie had, in the way of cats, decided that David was worthy of his attention and had promptly climbed up in his lap to demand adoration.

  “Two years ago someone found him wandering around out in the biome,” Xanthe answered, shaking her head. “He’d been sterilized and well cared for. Why someone would abandon a valuable companion animal like that, we’ll never know, I guess. Anyway, the Commissary took him, and he’s been held in the biome animal care facility ever since. When the blackout came, nobody cared about the animals there but me. I let the rest of them go—they were just squirrels and raccoons and rabbits. Mannie was the only domesticated animal there.” She grimaced. “I got into trouble with our new chief commissar for letting the other biome sample animals go. I figured that First Commissar Wickham would probably want to lock Mannie up again, and I didn’t want that to happen— so I catnapped him, you might say.”

  Kyle’s eyes were as round as silver dollars. “A cat!” he said reverently. “Can we keep him, Miss Xanthe? Please, please?”

  Xanthe smiled. “I hope you will, Kyle, but you’ll have to ask your mother and the Mitchells.”

  Kyle made a heartrending appeal to the entire room. “Please, can we, please?” Kyle had never seen a live cat in his life.

  “Why, of course, we can, Kyle,” Noe said warmly. “When Brother Mitchell and I were young, we always had a cat around, before it got to be such a terrible crime. We’re getting some mice, and Mannie ought to take care of them.”

  Kyle was overjoyed, and he immediately grabbed up Mannie, whirling him in a circle, whooping. The cat stayed limp, his lopsided smile intact. “Good-natured cat,” David observed. “I thought they were supposed to be arrogant and all that.”

  “Mannie’s not,” Xanthe said affectionately. “He’s sweet.” She sniffed the air and hinted, “Something certainly smells good . . .”

  “Goodness, where are my manners?” Noemi said briskly. “Here, sit down, child. The Lord’s provided us with plenty of squirrel and dumplings tonight. Guess He knew we’d be having company.”

  Xanthe sat down and ate hungrily. Between bites, she was peppered with questions. Everyone was avid to know what was happening in the outside world. Riley, as always, withdrew from the group at the table. He stayed by the fire, cleaning his rifle and watching Kyle play with Mannie.

  “Well, I’ve been promoted,” Xanthe said slowly. “I’ve been made a high commissar, second in command of the Hot Springs Emergency Service Commissary.”

  “Hmm,” David said noncommittally. “Is that the good news or the bad news?”

  Xanthe sighed. “Not too long ago, that would have been the best news I could ever have. More than I could hope for. You know, of course, that the Commissary doesn’t actually have a military hierarchical ranking? I mean, you are either a low commissar or a high commissar, and there are only a few high commissars, the top leadership in each biome. Now, though, under the emergency directives, we’re getting rankings.”

  “So who’s in charge? Who’s issuing these emergency directives?

  And what are they exactly?” David demanded.

  Xanthe dropped her eyes. “Well, as near as I can tell, the Commissary is being reconstituted as the lead organization in a sort of superagency that includes the FBI, FEMA, and all state and local law enforcement agencies. Chief Commissar Alia Silverthorne is the director. Hot Springs has a new first commissar, as I said.

  Commissar Wickham. He’s a real hard case. Used to be first commissar of the Three Rivers Biome.”

  Riley, unnoticed by the others, stopped cleaning his gun and stared hard at Xanthe. He rarely spoke to her; he seemed to avoid her, though he was never rude to her. After a moment, he dropped his eyes to his rifle again, though his motions seemed rather automatic.

  “So how are you getting your information?” David asked. He thought he already knew the answer.

  Xanthe shifted uneasily. “It’s the Germans, David. Guess you already knew that from the Vulcan. I know what you told me about Fort Carson . . . but they really do just seem to be trying to help here. I mean, they’ve flown in food and medical supplies, they’ve helped reorganize the hospitals and clinics, and they’ve set up Cyclops for the Commissary.” With a cautious look at Kyle, so close in the small one-room cabin, she went on in a low tone, “They even flew in two companies to help with body disposal. That’s been a real problem since the crematorium’s been out.”

  Noe murmured, “How many?”

  Heavily Xanthe replied, “We aren’t sure of the total yet. We’re still—finding them. So far we’ve cataloged more than two thousand.”

  A stunned silence greeted this news.

  “Okay, so what’s their story, Xanthe?” David asked darkly. “Are the Germans in charge? Have they actually conquered the United States?”

  Xanthe replied, “It’s—it’s kind of hard to tell exactly. See
, evidently Commandant Tor von Eisenhalt rescued the president— and I mean he personally found him and Minden Lauer and Commissar Silverthorne, besieged in the White House. So President Therion is back, and he’s announced that we’re now allied with the Germanic Union of Nation-States, only the name’s been changed. Now it’s the Global Union of Nation-States.”

  “Aw, man,” David muttered blackly. “That’s just great.”

  Xanthe slid David a sidelong look. “So you see, now our military is joined with the GUNS Joint Task Force. President Therion has mobilized—everyone, I guess. There’s—something going on in the Mideast.”

  “What!” David exclaimed. “You mean, we’ve all been ordered to active duty?”

  “I think so. At least, the president has ordered all military personnel to report back to their posts. He’s given his personal assurance that no questions will be asked of anyone who had left his post.”

  “Yeah?” David snarled. “Think he’s thought to ask the Goths why some of our military left their posts . . . as in they got shot to pieces?”

  “I don’t know, David,” Xanthe answered unhappily. “I don’t know if the president is a traitor—or just foolish.”

  “I wish I knew what Captain Slaughter was doing,” David muttered. Even as he said it David had an idea, but he knew that he would have to speak with Xanthe privately.

  Finally Xanthe finished eating—it took her a long time because she kept having to answer questions—and Noe served all of them some delicious-smelling freshly brewed coffee.

  “Count Tor von Eisenhalt,” Xanthe pronounced with some wonder. “He’s managed to salvage the global economic crisis that exploded after we went down. I’m not certain of the details, but I do know that we’re not on dollars anymore.”

  “Not on dollars!” Merrill exclaimed. “What currency are we on?”

  “Deutsche marks. But it doesn’t seem to make that much difference to me,” Xanthe said with the carelessness of one who had never used pieces of paper for money. “We just get Cyclops personal account credits in deutsche marks instead of dollars.”

  “But what about the people, daughter?” Jesse asked quietly.

  “What’s happening to them?”

  Xanthe was obviously troubled. “It’s—odd, Brother Mitchell.

  All we have is Cyclops broadcasts, you see. It’s our only connection, our only communication, our only—touch with the outside world.

  So we have to rely on whatever they tell us.” She shifted in her seat, and her eyes quickly swept over David, who was staring blankly into space, obviously lost in thought. She continued, “The president says that militant religious fanatics caused the blackout as a terrorist attack against the people of the United States.”

  Merrill, Genevieve, and Allegra all exclaimed in outrage. David started and stared at Xanthe. Even Riley made a low exclamation. Only Jesse and his wife seemed unsurprised. “Uh-huh,” Jesse said laconically. “So that’s how he’s getting to it. Old devil’s got him another excuse to persecute Christians. Just like when they accused the Christians of trying to burn down Rome.” Noe nodded in agreement.

  “Well, that’s just great!” David snorted. “Goths crawlin’ all over us, shooting down innocent civilians at will, and my commander in chief thinks people like my grandfather are the criminals!”

  “Guess we are at that,” Jesse said, his blue eyes twinkling. “I know we’re not supposed to be living here in one of his little green spaces on the map. That means we’re breaking the law, doesn’t it, daughter?”

  Xanthe smiled dismally. “Yes, you and Mrs. Mitchell are some real desperadoes, you are. So are you, Mr. and Mrs. Stanton. And you, Allegra. And Kyle, too. He’s a real danger to society.”

  Her summary broke the tension a little. Jesse stared at Xanthe, his blue eyes as bright as lasers. Unable to meet his gaze, she dropped her eyes. “Daughter,” he said kindly, “we’re joking about it, but now that you’re a big uppity-up in that Commissary, you’re in a bad position, aren’t you?”

  Softly, without looking up, she answered, “Our orders are to detain all registered members of the United America Church and the Catholic Church for questioning. The public is instructed to report any known Christians who are not members of these churches to the Commissary.”

  With a tinge of fear Genevieve asked, “What do you do with them, Xanthe?”

  “They’re being transferred to Little Rock for debriefing, and then they’re all being deported to Isolation Facilities. For their own protection, they say. And I guess it’s true . . . the public . . . people are very angry and scared, and they want to take it out on someone.”

  She looked up squarely at Brother Mitchell. “They’ve been forming lynch mobs and dragging people through the streets to the Commissary. Not everyone has made it there alive, either. And— and—our orders are not to detain anyone who is reporting a Christian, Brother Mitchell. They can pretty much do whatever they want without being questioned, much less arrested.”

  Jesse nodded calmly. “And so they’ve turned completely away from God. What kind of poison is that old Destroyer feeding them now?”

  At first Xanthe didn’t quite understand the question, but then she realized that the people were being indoctrinated with something that sounded like religion but that surely had nothing to do with Jesus Christ. Slowly she answered, “Minden Lauer is doing two live-comm broadcasts a day. Everybody watches them on a huge Cyclops that the Germans have put up in Fountain Square.

  It doesn’t matter whether it’s raining or snowing, daylight or dark.

  They all stand there, thousands of them, even the children, without moving or speaking. It’s like they’re hypnotized or something.

  They can’t seem to get enough of that woman.”

  Jesse was silent for a moment, then he leaned forward, his blue eyes piercing as he stared at Xanthe. “What is it they can’t get enough of ? What’s that woman telling them?”

  Xanthe hesitated, uncertain. “I have to admit, Brother Mitchell, that I just don’t understand it. I’ve listened to her, but I can’t follow. She’s—she’s different. I’d heard her before the blackout. She used to talk about love and beauty and nature and the love and the care of the earth . . .”

  “Let me guess,” Jesse’s voice rasped, “now she talks about how everyone is powerful, everyone is good, everyone can be a god!”

  Xanthe shot a startled glance at the old man. “Yes! How did you know?”

  “Same old thing, daughter. Same tired old lies the devil’s always told.”

  Xanthe nodded. “But that’s not all.” She dropped her voice to a rough half-whisper. “Minden talks a lot about our enemies, about how evil has always tried to overcome good and how we’ve all been attacked. I—guess that part—she means us, doesn’t she? The Christians? And there’s a lot of talk about—about blood. That’s the part I can’t seem to grasp. Sometimes I feel she’s talking nonsense, but then I see how everyone hangs on her every word. I think there’s some kind of key or code that everyone else has—but I don’t.”

  Jesse’s Bible was open before him, and he turned a few pages and said, “That’s exactly right! In John’s gospel, chapter 3, verse 19, the Word says, ‘And this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil.’” He ruffled the pages and said, “Back in chapter 1 the scripture says, ‘In him was life; and the life was the light of men. And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.’”

  He closed the big threadbare Bible and caressed the old leather cover. “It’s a good thing you don’t understand that woman. You don’t because you aren’t on the old devil’s wavelength. Don’t ever listen to her, daughter. When she’s on, you just pray to God and set your mind on Jesus.”

  The group at the table grew quiet, each one sorting out his thoughts. The only sounds in the cabin came from Riley as he sewed a button on one of his shirts. His movements made the slightest r
ustle in the silence of the cabin. He had spread out his sleeping bag for Kyle, who was nestled in it, sound asleep. Mannie was sprawled out contentedly next to him.

  After a while Merrill asked with difficulty, “Xanthe? If you’re rounding up the Christians—have you heard anything from Pastor Colfax or any of the others who were with us?”

  Xanthe shook her head. “I’ve been kind of trying to keep watch for them. I was hoping I might find them first, maybe get them out of town before they get picked up.” Xanthe had attended Tybalt Colfax’s church, and whatever his shortcomings, Xanthe had first heard the Word of God while attending his church.

  “Yeah?” David said, eyeing Xanthe sternly. “And wouldn’t that be dangerous for you, My Commissar?”

  “Yes,” she answered evenly. “I think it probably would. But that’s why I’m there, I think, David. That’s why I’m where I am and what I am. You all know that you’re here for a reason, for some plan or task that God has set for you. And that’s why I’m a high commissar in the Ozark Plateau Biome right now, in these times.

  It must be to help the people of God.” She took a deep breath and smiled sweetly at Jesse and Noe Mitchell. “And that’s what I’m going to do. Help the people of God in every way I can think of, as long as I can.”

  “You mean until you get caught,” David said quietly. “And you will get caught, you know. Then what will happen to you?”

  “A very wise man told me once,” Xanthe answered with a nod at Jesse, “‘Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him.’ ”

  For more than two hours Xanthe stayed and felt herself safe and at home. Then she said reluctantly, “I’ve got to go back. I can’t keep the Vulcan out overnight, or someone will question me.”

  “How did you get away?” David asked.

  “I told them I was going to patrol the outlying areas—just to be sure no unauthorized persons were wandering around in the biome.”

  “So, are you going to report us, My Commissar?” David said, smiling.

  The corners of Xanthe’s rather thin lips turned up. “As far as I’m concerned, it seems that the Lord God of heaven and earth has authorized you people to be here. I don’t think it’s necessary to explain that to an underling.”