Hope of Earth

by Piers Anthony

  “I can love you. I can’t let you go. Not while I know you love me.”

  “I do, Bry.” Then she kissed him with such passion that there was no point in further dialogue.

  But before they had gotten beyond hand on breast and thigh, and mouth on mouth, the van slowed. “We’re coming into town,” Faience called back.

  “Damn!” Tourette muttered.

  But Bry was half-relieved. He desired her, but caution told him that sex at this time could bè disastrous. There had to be a way to make their association legitimate.

  They got themselves back in order and got out when the van stopped. Faience joined them, and they went to the movie. In the dark theater, Bry put his arm around Tourette’s shoulders, and she rested her head against him and touched his knee with hers. It was sheer bliss.

  When they returned to the van, the front seat was full of supplies, so Faience had to rejoin them in the back. “Sorry,” she said.

  “It’s okay,” Bry said. “You introduced us.”

  “I can face away and stop up my ears.”

  They both laughed. “You’re curious what happened on the trip down,” Tourette said.

  “Yeah,” the girl admitted, abashed.

  “Well, first we kissed like this.” Tourette kneeled, hugged Bry’s upper torso and pulled him in for a very solid kiss. Actually it had been the other way around, but it hardly mattered. He loved kissing her regardless. “Then he put his hand on my blouse, like this.” She guided his open hand and mashed it into her breast.

  “No, first I touched your thigh,” Bry said, with mixed emotions: amazement, desire, and laughter. The more he discovered about Tourette, the better he liked her. Once her genie had been uncorked, she had poured out a whole lot of personality.

  “Oh, that’s right.” She moved his hand down, and up under her skirt. “Or did I put my hand into your pants? I forget.”

  “Damn, I wish I had a boyfriend!” Faience exclaimed.

  “We’re teasing you,” Bry said. “That’s as far as it went.”

  “Oh. Still. It must be nice.”

  “It is nice,” Tourette said. “I love him, just as you surmised, and I think he’s halfway hot for me.”

  “Three-quarters of the way,” Bry said, kissing her again. “Going on four-fifths.” Then she sat on his lap and they embraced and kissed some more, just to make Faience jealous, they said.

  But after a bit they disengaged, because both were aware that if they didn’t ease off, they would soon get into full sex in Faience’s presence, and that was beyond what they could handle.

  The rest of the ride back was routine. For Bry, for now, that was enough. But he worried about the future.

  “I love you,” Tourette repeated, kissing him one last time before she disappeared into the forest.

  “I never saw her so hot and happy, before,” Faience said. “And desperate. It’s as if she thinks the end of the world is coming.”

  “She does.” He hesitated. “Faience, if she doesn’t come next week, will you show me exactly where the Bones layout is?”

  “Are you thinking of doing something romantic and stupid?”

  “If I have to. Her dad may not let her come.”

  “It’s just down the road, that way. They’ve got a bunker and guardhouse. You have to go in the front way, because the rest is surrounded by mines and barbed wire.”

  “Mines?”

  “That’s what Tourette said, once. They’ve got a siege mentality. Automatic guns that track you, that sort of thing. They’re not nice people, Bry.”

  “Except for Tourette.”

  “Except for Tourette,” she agreed. “Did she show you her knife?”

  “Right by her breast.”

  “Yeah.” She looked momentarily thoughtful. “I wonder if I should wear a knife there? When I’m off-campus, I mean.”

  “First get a boyfriend to show it to, or to let him feel for.”

  She laughed. “Yeah.”

  During the week, between projects, he talked with Jes. “I have a problem, maybe. Something you should maybe talk me out of.”

  She was nursing her baby. Her breasts had grown enormously with pregnancy and childbirth. She caught him looking. “Yes, I hope they stay this way, after. I’m tired of being mistaken for a man.”

  “You mean the pacifism is getting to you? You want to be soft like a woman?”

  “When I want to be. But I’m no pacifist. I think that part of Dreams philosophy is unrealistic. Come the crash, how will they stop the crazies from overrunning them for their food and supplies?”

  “I don’t know. How’s Ittai feel about it?”

  “He loves it here, but he doubts, too. I think our family is split about evenly between believers and doubters. That may be a problem.”

  “Well, maybe my problem relates. I have to tell you something private.”

  She nodded. “Tell.”

  “I’ve been seeing a Bones girl.”

  Her eyebrows elevated in mock shock. “Consorting with the enemy?”

  “I think I love her.”

  “Think?”

  “Actually, I’m pretty sure I love her. And she loves me. And her dad maybe won’t let her out any more. Which mean’s I’ll maybe have to do something stupid.”

  “Like going over there and demanding to see her?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you could use a backstop.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why do you think I’d be more help than, say, Sam?”

  “They all go armed, all the time. Even the women and children. You might relate better.”

  She laughed. “I might indeed. Very well, little brother; I’ll go with you. I’m starting to go stir crazy here anyway.”

  “Thanks,” he said, relieved. “Maybe it won’t be necessary.”

  But Saturday morning, Tourette was not there. “Uh-oh,” Faience said. “She was right. ‘Cause I know she’d come here if she could.”

  “I guess I’ll have to beg off the movies, this time,” he said. “You go on in alone. I’ve got business here.”

  “And miss the show? I’ll go with you.”

  “Thee will not,” her mother said sternly. “I can’t stop the visitors from being suicidal, but thee is mine.”

  “It’s no democracy here, either,” Faience grumbled. But she joined Fay in the van. “But if thee gets thyself stupidly killed, Bry, I’ll never speak to thee again.”

  He had to laugh, and not just because of her humor. Her mother had used the plain talk, and that had triggered Faience’s switch to it. But he was distinctly nervous. He knew he was going to make what could be a bad scene.

  He went back to Jes, who, evidently anticipating this, had just finished nursing her baby and had turned her over to Snow. She was wearing a jacket and skirt, and carried a bow and arrows. “If they want to see Diana the Huntress, so they shall,” she said.

  They drove their own van to the Bones entry. It was indeed closed, with a guard who came alert as they parked and came forward. He carried a rifle at port arms. “What’s your business?” he demanded.

  “I’m Bry, and this is my sister Jes,” Bry said. “We’re from the Dreams community, trial new members.”

  “They don’t carry weapons.”

  “Maybe I’ll flunk my trial,” Jes said.

  “We don’t have anything to do with them.”

  “Well, I do,” Bry said. “I have come to see the chief’s daughter.”

  “Petition denied. Go back where you came from.”

  “I call her Tourette.”

  The man jumped, his rifle swinging around. But Jes was faster. Her knife was in her hand, the tip of the blade pointing at his face. “At ease, soldier,” she said.

  He hesitated, so she did her trick with the knife, flipping it and catching it an inch from his nose.

  The guard shrugged, then looked at Bry. “Describe her.”

  “Age sixteen. Shoulder-length brown hair. Brown eyes. About yea tall.�
� He held his hand at the level of the top of her head. “Very nice figure. Very nice person.”

  “What’s your business with her?”

  “I love her.”

  The guard whistled. “You’re in trouble.”

  “Just take me to her.”

  The guard lifted a walkie-talkie. “Two from Dreams being admitted on temporary passes to see the chief’s daughter.”

  The gate cranked open. Another guard appeared ‘This way,” he said curtly.

  He brought them to a Jeep, and drove them along a winding drive to a massive building that had the aspect of a fortress. A device on its roof moved to track them, just as Faience had said.

  They parked near an armored door. ‘I must search you before you enter,” the guard said.

  “Like hell,” Jes snapped.

  “Electronic.”

  She shrugged. “Okay. But where I go, I go armed.”

  “Understood. This way.”

  They passed through a frame similar to that of an airline inspection station. There was no buzzer, but Bry saw the guard look at a computer screen. Then he spoke into a mike. “Man, unarmed. Woman, with bow, ten arrows, three knives, and a club.”

  “Do they come in truce?” a woman’s voice asked from a speaker.

  “Yes,” Bry said. Jes hesitated, then nodded. Evidently that was good enough, because the metal door slid open.

  “You will be met inside,” the guard said.

  They entered. A woman in a clerical uniform rose from a desk just inside. She wore a gun, and looked vaguely familiar. “What is your business here?”

  “You already know it,” Jes said tersely.

  The woman smiled. “So you understand the situation.”

  “No.”

  “The boy made illicit contact with one of our members. Further contact is denied.”

  “Let her tell me that,” Bry said.

  The woman lifted one hand to make a small beckoning signal. A door opened behind her, and Tourette emerged. She was in a black uniform: military cap, close jacket, trousers, boots. And a wide belt supporting a holster with a gun at her right hip, and a sheath with a knife at the left hip.

  “So you came,” she said to Bry.

  “I love thee.”

  She glanced at him, startled, and he realized that he had used the plain talk. Fay to Faience to him: it seemed to be contagious. But he realized that it was also because he now identified with Dreams, and did want to be a part of it. Well, so be it.

  After a strained pause, Tourette spoke. “Please leave.”

  “Thee knows I can’t.”

  “Bry, I told you. It can’t be. Please.”

  “Tell me thee doesn’t love me.”

  “I—” Then her face crumbled. “Mom—”

  Mom? But there was indeed a family resemblance. That was why the woman had looked vaguely familiar.

  The woman shook her head, “My daughter does love you, Bry. But she may not associate with you at this time.” She lifted a hand, forestalling Bry’s objection. “It is not just her father’s disapproval. Were you to qualify to join this community, it would be possible. But there is illness, and we do not wish to spread it to you. Separation is a kindness at this point.”

  “Illness?” Jes asked.

  “It seems to be the flu, a deadly form. We fear that secondary infections will be resistant to treatment. My husband caught it in Africa, but it did not manifest until he arrived here. Otherwise he would not have returned. The least we can do is confine it.”

  Bry exchanged a glance with Jes, knowing she was as surprised as he was. “Maybe—maybe we could help. I mean, the Dreams community. They have herbal medicines—”

  “I doubt it. Now please go. You may be at risk here.”

  Bry looked at Tourette, and saw tears streaming down her face. Surely what they said was true. The sensible course was to leave immediately.

  But he wasn’t sensible. “Come with me,” he said to Tourette.

  She didn’t move. “I’ve been exposed.” Then she started to twitch. She must have been controlling it, but she was under such tension that it was getting away from her. Her shoulders jerked and her head tossed wildly.

  Something buzzed in his mind. He stepped across, so quickly she did not react, and took her in his arms. Her body relaxed. He kissed her, steadying her face with his own. She returned the kiss, avidly. He tasted the salt of her tears.

  He lifted his head and looked around. The woman was standing with her hand on her pistol, and Jes was standing with a knife drawn. Threat and counter-threat.

  “Now I have been exposed too,” Bry said.

  “You have done a foolish thing,” the woman said, and Jes nodded agreement.

  “Whatever Tourette suffers, I want to suffer too. If you won’t let me in, let her out. Maybe she doesn’t have it. Maybe she’ll be safer in Dreams.”

  “They will not speak to an armed person,” the woman said.

  “They speak to me,” Jes said.

  The women studied her, appraisingly. “Will you join Dreams?”

  “I don’t know. As I see it, there are occasions when pacifism simply doesn’t work. I would have to give up my weapons if I joined, and I’m not sure that’s wise.”

  “You might be more comfortable here in Bones.”

  They called it Bones too? No, probably that was just a facetious acceptance of the term, leaving the real community anonymous. Just as was the case with Tourette.

  Jes stared at her. “You are inviting me to make a trial visit here?”

  “With your husband, of course. We have need of organizers of his caliber. We would also be interested in your closest brother, as we are a high-tech community.”

  Jes seemed intrigued. So was Bry. How could the woman know so much about their family? “What of his wife?”

  “We are an equal opportunity employer. We do not discriminate on the basis of color or past condition of royalty.”

  “But you do on the basis of ideology,” Bry said.

  “And Dreams does not?”

  “Touché,” Jes said. “I will think about it. But our family is unified. We won’t split between hostile groups. We’ll all go to one, or to another. And there are those of us who would not come here.”

  “I know. You will have a difficult decision.”

  “What of us?” Bry asked. “Tourette and me?”

  “You must stay, or she must go. If you stay, you risk the illness. If she goes, she risks spreading it.”

  “If she has it,” he said. “If she doesn’t, she can escape it.”

  “It is a serious gamble, either way. I take it upon myself to make that decision. She may go.” Her mouth quirked. “With thee,”

  “Oh, Mom!” Tourette cried.

  “It is a rational decision. May God forgive me if I am mistaken.” She touched a button on her desk, and the door slid open. “Go quickly.”

  They went quickly. The guard was waiting outside. They got into the Jeep, and rode back to the front gate. Then on out to their van.

  “She let me go,” Tourette said in awe. “I never thought she would.”

  “She loves you,” Jes said. “She wants to spare you the plague.”

  “Yes. But what if I have it already?”

  “We must warn the Dreams.”

  Something bothered Bry. “When I kissed thee, and thy mother started to draw her pistol, and Jes warned her off with her knife—doesn’t Bones have better protection than that?”

  Tourette laughed. “Mom could have had the room flooded with nerve gas, knocking us all out in an instant. But she liked your sister’s look. She got downright friendly after that.”

  “And she knew about us, about our family,” Jes said. “Did you tell her?”

  “No. I said nothing at all. But we have personnel who research in the computer data bases and on the Internet. They must have made files on you. Knowledge is the best defense. I didn’t know they had it in mind to recruit you.”

  “Th
en why didn’t they want me to see you?” Bry asked.

  “I think Mom thought you were just using me. But when you kissed me in the middle of a twitch, she changed her mind. Maybe she saw that you had committed to Dreams, and to me too, because you addressed me with the plain talk. And she does like your sister.” She snuggled against him. “But if I carry the plague out—”

  “We’ll warn them,” Jes said as she pulled into the parking lot.

  But Marc shrugged it off. “We have people going in and out all the time. We are constantly exposed. We’ll handle it.”

  “But this is really bad,” Tourette said. “A killer flu.”

  “We are equipped. If the malady is in Africa, with a several day lag time, it is elsewhere too. We’ll be exposed to it from some other source, sooner or later.”

  “I’m not sure it’s smart for Dreams to be isolated from Bones,” Jes said. “We need to talk with the Dreams community elders.”

  “To what point? We have no common ground with them.”

  “Please,” Tourette said. “I wish I could talk to the elders. There are things that need to be understood.”

  Marc looked at her. “As long as thee evinces thy lack of sympathy with our philosophy, by bearing weapons, there is no point. I think thee will encounter a similar attitude wherever thee inquires.”

  “But it wouldn’t be honest for me to disarm myself,” Tourette said. “I am as I am, and I don’t care to hide it.”

  “Then perhaps thee should return to thy community.”

  They let it go. The elders might be pacifists, but that didn’t mean they weren’t tough-minded. They had their standards, and would not abridge them. “You can stay with us,” Jes told Tourette. “With Bry.”

  “But the propriety—”

  “We have seen it all. You do as you choose.”

  Tourette clutched Bry’s hand. “This is so unexpected. I hardly know what to feel.”

  “Neither do I,” he confessed. “Except for love.”

  That afternoon Bry spoke to Flo. “I brought Tourette home. I think she needs to meet the family.”

  Flo always knew what was serious. “Half an hour hence?”

  “Okay.”

  They were all there. “Some of you already know Tourette,” he said. “That’s not her real name, but it will do. I love her, and want to be with her. But she’s from Bones, and there’s plague there. She’s afraid she has been exposed.”