The Hefn solution of assigning all child-abuse cases to the Gaians worked a lot better than prayer and repentance did. But the Ephremite leadership hierarchy, stripped of authority where certain of their members were concerned, could perhaps not be expected to feel very grateful.
* * * *
2
When the mysterious and powerful Hefn had arrived on Earth, they'd been horrified to discover a sentient species there, busily destroying its own biosphere. Taking charge, they'd set out at once to reverse the damage. They imposed sweeping reforms on agriculture, transportation, and manufacturing; they established the Baby Ban, mass infertility brought about by mass hypnotic suggestion. Also, one Hefn—Humphrey—set up the Bureau of Temporal Physics, where young math intuitives, known as Apprentices, were trained to operate alien devices that could be used to locate the placetimes in human prehistory where people had once lived in harmony with their world.
The Bureau's findings had launched the Gaian Movement, with its mission of converting humanity to values that could help heal the Earth and get the Baby Ban revoked. For converts this had involved choosing a piece of land as a personal Ground, and developing an intimate relationship with that Ground over time, a process called “living into” the land. That part of Gaian teachings had appealed to Lexi enormously; it was largely because of it that she'd fled to the Salt Lake Gaian Mission a little more than three months before.
But now Lexi and Pam were sitting on Pam's back porch steps before dinner, feeding lumps of dry dog food soaked in water to the juvenile robins Pam had been rehabbing for the Salt Lake Aviary. And Pam was explaining that the Gaians had decided to change their focus.
"You're supposed to think about your family?” Lexi asked dubiously.
"Mm-hm. Where they came from, where they live now. Like, all the Ephremite families that settled the Great Basin and made the desert blossom as the rose.” She pulled a wad of dog food in half and fed the halves to a badly banged-up robin she called Gimpy. Wingy sailed in to demand his share.
"Oh."
"Your family was part of that, right? Here, Greedy Guts.” Pam poked a piece of food into Wingy, who gulped it down. Behind the garden, seven mallard ducklings splashed and squeaked in their plastic wading pool.
"On my dad's side. Mom's relatives came from Denmark later on. My dad's great-great-I-don't-know-how-many-greats-grandparents came with a wagon train. They've got it all written down in a book at home."
They would; Ephremite genealogical resources were the best in the world. “But they've lived in Utah a long time."
"Yeah. Mostly. When did you say you were getting back from your trip?"
Pam suppressed a sigh. “It's only just over this weekend, sweetie. I'll be back on Monday.” Lexi had been told this several times, but anxiety made her keep asking; she didn't want Pam to leave Salt Lake. “I really do have to go, Humphrey's orders. There's still a lot to decide about Homeland, that's the new term we're using, but I'll be back before you know it."
Lexi kept her eyes on the wet lump of kibble she was squeezing. Pam said brightly, “I was thinking today, up on location, that acting in A Thousand Miles is a terrific way to focus on the country that means the most to you and your family—I mean your whole family, Lexi, I'm not counting your granddad. You and Neil really know what a high price the first settlers paid to get here, and how important that makes this land to their descendants—it's their Homeland, see?"
The soggy lumps were disappearing fast. Pesky hopped onto Lexi's knee, and Lexi, delighted, fed him a lump herself. She didn't push it far enough down his throat, but he threw his head back and managed to swallow it anyway. “Good!” said Pam. “Try to stick it a little farther in, like this."
"I wish they didn't change it. I know Humphrey said the old way didn't get enough converts. But I liked it better."
Stuffed, the robins withdrew. Pam snapped the lid back on the kibble soaker, a margarine tub from Landfill Plastics, and smiled at Lexi. “Tell you the truth, I did too, but Humphrey and the missionaries think more people can relate to what the Gaians are saying if we do it like this, through family ties to land that's been lived into for a long time, so the land and the people really belong to each other. Like, you know ... getting together at Christmas with all your relatives at the old home place, the special feeling you get from that.” Seeing the child frown, Pam wondered what feelings she had just conjured up, and added hastily, “But anybody who wants to can still go the old way and choose a personal Ground. We're trying to bring more people in, not push anybody out."
Lexi looked relieved. “What are you gonna do, keep on with your Ground in Kentucky?"
"Actually, in my case Homeland won't make that much difference,” Pam said. “I was a grounded Gaian steward long before we decided to change our approach. But it can be good to go at things from more than one direction.” She grabbed the tub of kibble, stood, and smiled down at Lexi, sitting on the step still looking worried. “So what about your dinner, are you hungry yet?"
Lexi got up slowly. “It won't make any difference in my case either, the Homeland thing won't. I'm sticking with The Secret Garden. Like when Mary Lennox says ‘Might I have a bit of earth?'—like that."
She spoke the line, in Mary's British accent, with a wistful hopefulness so utterly convincing that Pam shivered. She put her hand on Lexi's shoulder and squeezed. “You be Gaia's actor, kiddo. Anything else would be a shameful waste of talent."
* * * *
When they broke for lunch on the first day of the conference, Pam went back to her room and checked her messages: a brief one from her deputy, Jaime Rivera, that boiled down to “Everything's under control"; an even briefer one from Lexi in a tattered sun bonnet, evidently sent on a break between scenes: “Hi, sorry to bother you on your trip but could you please call me right away?"
Oh, Lexi. Yawning hugely—none of the conferees had gotten much sleep—Pam pushed the recall button. The face that flickered onto the screen was that of Marcee Morgenstern, producer of A Thousand Miles. “Hi,” said Pam. “I'm returning a call from Lexi."
"From Lexi? Lexi's gone AWOL!” Marcee looked angry and flustered. “You say you're returning a call? When was this? What did she say?"
Wide awake now, Pam checked the readout. “Looks like ... about two hours ago. Eleven forty-six Utah time. I'm in California at a conference, I left my phone in my room this morning, only found out she'd tried to reach me a few minutes ago. She just said to call her. What do you mean by AWOL?"
"She finished her last scene and I sent her to get out of makeup. About twenty minutes later here's RoLayne having hysterics, where's Lexi, has anybody seen Lexi. Which nobody had—including makeup, she never showed up over there. We all dropped everything to look for her, but so far no luck. I'm going to tan her bottom when we get ahold of her, this has played holy heck with the schedule and we were already a day behind—"
She was going to do no such thing, but Pam understood how she felt. “How long have you been looking?"
"I don't know, an hour maybe, or a little less."
"An hour?” Pam relaxed. “That's not very long. Maybe she went for a walk."
Marcee glared. “She's under strict orders not to wander off, remember?"
Pam herself had given those strict orders when the abuse had been reported. “Yes, of course she is, I'm sorry."
"Nobody's got a clue where she could have gone.” Marcee's voice slid up dangerously. “And I haven't got a clue how she managed to slip off, there are people everywhere up here keeping an eye on her!"
A pang of real alarm shot through Pam. “Okay, I'll notify my office. If she doesn't turn up soon we'll bring in the police."
"If she calls you again—"
"I'll handle it. Let me know the minute you find her, okay?"
The instant she hung up, something very peculiar happened; Pam could feel her consciousness expand and zoom in, like a powerful microscope, on the details of Lexi's situation. In this state of preternatura
l keenness Pam's mind informed her that one of two things had certainly happened: either Church authorities had snatched Lexi, or she'd run away to escape being snatched by Church authorities. Her mind was astounded at its own failure to see this coming. The Ephremite leadership had agents everywhere, they knew the Hefn had summoned the Apprentices and the Gaian leadership to a conference; obviously they would not have been slow to seize their moment.
When things abruptly shifted back to normal, Pam managed to stay focused, disoriented and freaked out though she was. Were people holding Lexi, or was she all by herself somewhere up Emigration Canyon, scared to death? A kidnapping, if that's what it was, had the earmarks of an inside job.
She thought a minute, then punched her phone. When Humphrey answered she said simply, “I have to go home. Lexi's disappeared and I'm as sure as I can be that the Ephremites are behind it. They've been raising Cain about Gaians having jurisdiction in a case involving an Ephremite kid. If I leave now I should make the 13:58 express."
"They do this always, raise the Cain?” He meant, whenever Child Welfare Oversight took custody of an Ephremite child, which happened several times a year.
"They do, but this kid's famous, it's giving them a big public black eye. And there's something else—something happened, I had this very weird mental experience ... I'll tell you later, but now I really need to go."
The Hefn's tiny likeness stared at her from the phone: great opaque eyes, face covered with short gray hair, full gray beard. Pam said, “Humphrey, this is extremely important. I can't explain how I know that, but it is."
Surprisingly, he didn't argue, only said soberly, “When we have finished here, I will come to Salt Lake if you have not found Lexi. I would like very much to hear more about the weird experience."
"If we haven't found her, I'd love it if you could interview her mother.” Probe her twisted little mind, she meant. “But do please come either way."
He made his neckless imitation of a nod. “I have said so."
"Good luck then. I wouldn't leave for any other reason,” Pam said, and cut the connection. Then she called Jaime.
* * * *
3
The sledcar had been fitted with hard rubber tires for summer, which made for a bumpy ride. Barefoot, in her raggedy dress, Lexi sat shoved up against the car's passenger door, as far away from her grandfather as the seat belt would let her get. She was trying not to make a sound as they jounced along, but her makeup was streaked with tears.
Her grandfather, Edgar Carstairs, was making the sledcar labor up the mountain at its top speed—not that fast but still way too fast for the condition of the road. Both of them kept being thrown around, but Lexi had no way to hold on; her hands had been tied behind her with a leather boot lace. Granpa's face wore a funny look of grim satisfaction. Once he and RoLayne had got Lexi bundled into the car, he'd paid no attention to her, except that when she had asked—careful not to sound panicky—"What's happening? Where are we going?” he stopped the car just long enough to pull her arms behind her and whip the thong around her wrists.
"That's in case you should take a notion to jump out,” he said. “We're going someplace no Hefn and no Hefn-lovers would ever think to look. And by the way,” he added in a mean voice, “don't you worry about me lovin’ on you anymore. The very idea of lovin’ on a little brat that would go and tattle to the Gaians makes me sick.” He whirled on her suddenly. “You ought to be ashamed! Embarrassing me, that's bad enough—do you know you got me thrown in jail? Your own grandfather? But slinging mud at the Church, now, that's beyond anything."
Granpa looked a little crazy while making this speech, glaring at Lexi, spit spraying, face working. The car lurched wildly. She shrank away from him in fear. Also in guilt. Despite what the counselor kept telling her, and what Pam and her dad had told her, Ephremite conditioning went bone-deep with Lexi.
They ground along in silence for a while. Finally she asked timidly, “Do Mom and Dad know where you're taking me?"
Granpa smirked. “Your mom knows where I told her I was taking you, but that's not where we're going. And your dad, he's a know-nothin’ from the word go. Now I want you to sit still and shut your mouth."
This was a side of Granpa Lexi had never seen, or even consciously suspected. All her life he had treated her like a princess, in a kind of artificial, saccharine way, even when he was doing things to her in the dark. She had dreaded spending time with him alone, but she hadn't exactly been terrified, like afraid for her life. But this crazy-seeming stranger frightened her so much it was hard to think.
The one hopeful thing was that she'd left the message for Pam after catching a glimpse of her Granpa, who wasn't allowed to be anywhere around her right now, through the window in the wardrobe trailer bathroom. She'd come out, gone straight to the phone, and made the call, reluctant somehow to say in her message what she was calling about. Then it was time to do a scene, and then another scene that had required multiple takes, and after that Marcee said she was done for the day. Lexi'd been on her way to get out of makeup when her mother, sounding happy and excited, had called to her to come and look at something out behind the trailer. By that time she'd forgotten about Granpa, and that was when they'd tossed the blanket over her head and shoved her into the car.
"Mom!” she pleaded when she'd been strapped in and the blanket came off. RoLayne looked over her shoulder furtively. “Honey, everything's fine, don't worry. Just mind Granpa, do what he tells you. I'll see you real soon.” She squeezed Lexi's arm through the car window, and they started moving.
Remembering all this gave Lexi an idea, something to grab onto mentally in the dizzying terror. “I have to go to the bathroom,” she said in a whiny voice. He'd called her a brat, okay, she'd play a brat.
"Then I guess you'll just have to hold it.” He sounded calmer now. He didn't take his eyes off the road.
"No, I really have to go bad,” she said in a shrill, complaining voice. A little more nasal quality? Maybe just a little. “I already had to go when I was going to the trailer. Granpa, I'm gonna wet my pants!"
"I told you to shut up,” he snapped, but he looked uneasy all the same. He must have borrowed the sledcar, and what sledcar owner was going to be thrilled to find the seat had been peed on?
Things seemed to be taking a promising turn, but just then Lexi realized that even if she prevailed, Granpa wasn't going to untie her hands and let her go off into the bushes on her own. He would keep hold of her, and pull her dress up and her pants down himself. He'd claimed that the thought of “loving on her” made him sick, but what if getting into that kind of situation made him change his mind? Lexi felt a thrill of a sicker sort of fear. “I guess I can wait a little while,” she said in a sulky voice.
"You do that,” said her grandfather, though he looked over at her in a way that made Lexi glad she had changed tactics. “It's not that much fu'ther anyways."
"But this leather thing's really hurting my hands, they're getting numb."
"Like I said, it's not much fu'ther."
At that moment the sound of a helicopter made Lexi's heart leap with hope. Pam might have returned her call by now; by now, everyone would realize she was missing. Maybe that Jaime at Gaian headquarters had called the Salt Lake Police. The only choppers allowed in the air were official ones. The police were probably hunting for her right this minute. She strained around, trying to see, just as the racket got much louder and the chopper suddenly appeared from behind the slope of a mountain.
It wasn't a police helicopter after all. The lettering on the side said the church of ephrem the prophet. As she was realizing this, Lexi also realized that Granpa was looking up with interest, not concern. In fact the chopper was landing behind some trees above the road, and he was turning the car into the parking area at one of the abandoned picnic sites that used to be popular back when people could take private cars up into the canyons east of Salt Lake.
Lexi's heart plummeted. This wasn't rescue, this was rendez
vous. Granpa was handing her over to the Church. He hadn't kidnapped her for some reason of her mother's and his own, he'd done it with the cooperation, maybe even on the orders, of the Church leadership.
Her grandfather quieted the car and came around to pull Lexi out. “Up there,” he said tersely, and started pushing her ahead of him, up a trail that wound among derelict picnic tables set on terraces.
The trail went pretty much straight up the side of the steep canyon. Granpa had to stop partway to catch his breath, holding onto Lexi's arm and bending over to pant. She could probably have wrenched herself loose while he was preoccupied with panting, but there wasn't much point, the terrain was way too rough and her bare feet, toughened though they were by all that traipsing over rough ground while the cameras rolled, would slow her down, even if she could keep her balance with her buzzing hands tied behind her. She would never get away. “If you untied me I could walk by myself,” she said anyway.
"Don't make me laugh,” he growled. They started up again.
Lexi expected to see Sire Cooper, but the person standing by the chopper was the Canon of her own Parcel, the one who was Granpa's friend, the one who always used to say how wonderful it was that their Parcel had a real family with a real testimony.
Canon Erickson gave Lexi a big smile, then frowned when he saw that her hands were tied. “Was it necessary to truss her up like that, Ed?"
"Trust me,” Granpa puffed, very red in the face. “It was necessary. The kid can run like a rabbit."
Canon Erickson leaned over Lexi's bonds. He tsked sympathetically, and Lexi made a strategic tear slip down her right cheek, already streaked with actual tears. “Oh dear, it's digging into her skin, look. Jared,” he said, turning to a person inside the chopper, “will you take a knife and cut this child's hands free?"
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