by Darrell Bain
* * * *
Lyda stood on top of the huge ball-shaped rock and stared into the distance. After using two empty water tubs to get started, Jacob and Patrick had worked all day to get steps cut into the rock. She had offered to find them some help but Jacob refused. He wanted to do the job himself, so Lyda let him, knowing he would be proud of the accomplishment.
She could see a long way in all directions. In the far distance to the west, some mountains were barely visible on the horizon. Between the mountains and her rock, she could make out two lines of shimmering green barriers cutting through the desert, separating parts of the concentration camp. She could make out many groups of people on the other side of the barriers, looking like tiny ants from so far away, but there was no way to tell what race they belonged to, or whether they were segregated at all. To the east, a river was visible, or at least a tree line indicating water. She felt saliva course into her mouth just thinking about it, but quickly stifled the thought. The water line was behind a barrier, the one she had seen up close earlier. To the north was a closer barrier, with clusters of people on either side of it and corpses of those who had come too close to it laying nearby. She thought the ones beyond the barrier looked darker than the ones close up; the live ones, anyway. The dead bodies had been darkened by sun and rot. Maybe that's where the blacks are, she thought, on the other side of that barrier. But why? And where were the Orientals and Hispanics? Inside some other prison camp?
She shrugged. No use thinking about it. Cope with what you understand and can do something about; that's what Dad always said. She wiped at a tear and turned to climb back down, nodding to the lookout Gary had posted. The woman smiled back at her.
Lyda was encouraged by the way people had accepted her as the leader of their Team. The few who objected were quickly silenced by the others. She thought the acceptance might be because most of the people here had come from other groups where conditions were worse, but that was only part of it. Inside her own mind, she was beginning to feel like a leader. Most of her thoughts now were of what was best for the Team. If it left few moments to reflect on her own life, she thought that might be a good thing. She didn't have time to feel sorry for herself.
There were other changes inside herself that Lyda was noticing. She felt physically stronger and mentally more alert than she ever had in her life, so much so, it was noticeable. This was something new, as if the red food bricks were imparting a vitality ordinary food didn't. She couldn't be sure. It might just be my regular growth, she thought, but she couldn't remember any older girls ever talking about anything like that. She looked around to check if anybody was watching, then reached up to touch her chest. Her breasts were growing more rapidly. She guessed she would get her first period soon. She had already asked Maryanne about it and taken some advice, mainly to keep some strips of the cloth in her backpack or pocket, ready for use when it happened.
* * * *
They were well prepared for the attack when it came. During the day, Gary had sent up a cloth covering for the lookouts, both as a disguise and to protect them from the sun. The afternoon lookout called down shortly before sunset that a large group of people were coming in their direction. Lyda heard his shout from her office. Before she could send her courier, a silent middle-aged woman still grieving for her husband and children, Gary was there.
“This is probably what we feared,” he said. “I'm glad we prepared for it. If we can break and scatter this bunch, then word will spread and the rest of the bad guys should leave us alone."
“Are we sure these are the bad guys?"
“Has to be,” Gary said succinctly. “No one else would travel at night like this group is doing. Or will be doing shortly. They'll probably stop, then come on and try to hit us when they think we'll all be sleeping. Bastards."
It happened exactly as Gary had predicted. He had his best and biggest squad ready to meet the attack head on, with two other squads on each side of the rock, ready to attack from the flank once the fighting started. He held his last squad in reserve, ready to help or get the children and non-combatants away to the water seep Lyda had told him about.
The moon hadn't come up yet and the night was brightened only by starlight. Lyda waited impatiently at the very rear of the main squad where Gary had placed her, so if the attack pushed that far, she could use her gun—or give it to him. He had also required that all of his troops tie white strips around each of their upper arms, using handkerchiefs, undershirts, bras and whatever else they could find. There would be no friendly casualties caused by lack of light if he could help it.
* * * *
The guttural shouting, screaming and yelling from the darkness, along with the drumming of feet running on the gritty sand and curses exploding from lips as attackers stumbled over unseen obstacles in the dark, heralded the start of Big Bill's attack. Had they not been expecting it, Lyda would have been frightened out of her wits. As it was, she felt her heart thundering in her chest. She was in a crouch, as were all the squads, making themselves both hard to see and subject to being mistaken for jumbles of large rocks. Earlier, Lyda had made the rounds with Gary, adding her voice and authority to his admonitions to be silent and wait for him to give the correct signals before reacting.
Gary's tactics worked perfectly. Big Bill, in the middle of his attacking gang, heard the high, screaming yell that was Gary's signal for his troops to rise up. Almost the entire first squad was made up of big men with lots of strength in their arms. They were all armed with two rocks of good throwing weight. The first line threw, threw again, then ducked down for the rank behind them to do the same.
“Up!” Gary yelled amid curses and screams of pain. Hand axes went into to play as the members of Big Bill's gang still on their feet crashed into the squad. A war whoop, unmistakable even amid the noise, came wailing into the night, the signal for the flanking squads to rush forward. Big Bill's gang had gathered so much momentum in their initial rush, that the flanking squads were able to take most of them from behind. The white armbands marked their own men. They were visible at close quarters, giving Gary's men a great advantage, especially coming in from the back, unseen for the most part. Almost every person they attacked was an enemy, while Big Bill's gang frequently grappled with their own partisans in the darkness.
Lyda was surprised by how quickly it all happened and even more amazed at how soon it was over. She kept her hand on her revolver, ready to draw, but it was never necessary. Some of Big Bill's men escaped back into the desert when they realized they were being defeated, but the majority of them fell, unconscious or so hurt and scared by the unexpected resistance that they quickly surrendered.
Gary and Lyda were even ready for that. The reserve squad brought thin strips of cloth forward and tied hands behind backs while the rest stood guard. By this time, Lyda's pulse had slowed somewhat. Once the captives were all secured and sitting or laying along the edge of the rock, she walked among them. A great harvest moon was edging up over the horizon and soon, she could see well enough. She knew exactly who she was looking for and soon found a figure she thought she recognized. She kicked lightly at his bowed head, making him look up.
Big Bill squinted in the wan moonlight. He could only see out of one eye; the other was rapidly closing. Blood was still trickling down the side of his face from another wound somewhere on his scalp.
“This one is Big Bill,” Lyda told Gary. “Make sure he's tied real tight. I'll deal with him in the morning. Have Jimmy separate out a few of the ones he thinks might talk and bring them to my office. Tell everyone I said they did great and I'll talk to them in the morning and let them know what we find out from these ... bastards."
Gary grinned behind his hand at Lyda's feeble epithet but then it disappeared. He didn't think he would want to be in Big Bill's shoes when the sun came up.
“You ducks. Letting a fucking little girl tell you what to do,” Big Bill spat.
Lyda turned away, ignoring him. It was all she could do
not to simply pull out her pistol and shoot him right then. An instinct, or some of that new vitality she was experiencing, told her that would be a mistake. His turn would come, but not yet. Instead, she asked Gary a question. “Did anybody get killed?"
“Surprisingly, no one from them or our people either, considering all the head knocking.” He grinned. “There's sure lots of headaches amongst them, though."
* * * *
“My hands hurt. You gotta untie me!"
“I have to go. Please, I can't hold it much longer."
“Damn him, why did we ever try this?"
“I heard she's not but eleven years old!"
“I wonder..."
“I think he's dead."
“No, he..."
The voices of the prisoners echoed and rebounded from the rock facing like the sounds from kids in a theatre watching a scary movie. Lyda tried to ignore them and listen to the captives brought to her as they were questioned by Gary and Jimmy. Each of the men told much the same story, claiming to have been forced to do what Big Bill said or die of thirst.
“Could you have left if you wanted to?” Lyda asked each of them when their tales faltered.
Bowed heads were their only answer.
The woman who had been Big Bill's consort was easier to deal with, if harder to understand. She freely admitted to taking part in whatever Big Bill ordered. “Kid, it looked to me like the only game in town, and Little Charlene takes care of herself. Whatever the fuck the aliens want with us, right now, the men are calling the shots. We women have to go along."
“No you don't. Not when you could have left."
The woman shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Where else is there to go? Another gang? Girl, if you think Big Bill is bad, you don't want to meet Rockner. Big Bill sold all the kids we could corral to him, after he used the best ones himself first. That's bad, but I don't even want to think about what Rockner and his gang are doing to them. I heard he trades the little boys to another gang for their girls."
Lyda shivered. She felt crawly with disgust. The woman hadn't even recognized her, but Lyda remembered her face. She had willingly helped Big Bill when he beat and assaulted her. “Take her away,” she said.
“What are you going to do with us?” the woman asked as Jimmy jerked her to her feet.
Lyda didn't answer. She began hearing the prisoners again, begging to be untied, or to relieve themselves, or to have their wounds treated. “Jimmy, go tell those people to quiet down and we'll take care of them at daylight when we can see what we're doing. It's too risky to fool with them tonight. Okay?"
“Sure. Do you want to talk to any more of them?"
“No, but you can. See if you can find out where that Rockner gang the woman was talking about is located."
“Will do."
“Thanks, Jimmy."
Lyda was left alone with Gary. “Do you have any idea about what we should do with them?"
“Well, we can't just keep them tied up here."
“I know, but we can't just turn them loose, either. Dad always told me that people were responsible for their actions. If you did something good, you should be rewarded, even if it's just the satisfaction of knowing you did the right thing. If you were bad, you should take your punishment and learn from it.” Lyda gave Gary the ghost of a smile. “That's what Dad would say when he had to punish me. Or when he told me he was pleased with something I had done. I think he was right."
“Yes, I do, too."
“Let me think about it. You, too, and if you come up with any good ideas, tell me about them in the morning before the Team gets together."
“I'll do that. Good night, Miss Brightner."
“Good night, Gary. I'm glad you were around to show us how to take care of ourselves. Thanks."
He gave her his little salute and vanished into the night, leaving Lyda by herself again. She sat quietly thinking. After a while, she nodded to herself. It will be all right, she thought, I can do it. As she made the decision, she felt another strange, but positive transformation settling into her body and mind, like a favored relative who had come to live permanently with her. She lay back on her pallet and closed her eyes, going over all the patterns of her essence that had grown and matured so swiftly since the aliens landed. Maybe in a normal environment, she would have wanted to enjoy being a little girl a bit longer, but here, she was glad she had managed to outgrow that part of her life. Satisfied, she tried to sleep. The next thing she knew, it was morning.
* * * *
Lyda glanced around at the council. “Are there any of you who disagree with me?"
No one objected.
Lyda took a deep breath. “Since the final decision rests with me, I'll take care of it myself. Gary, you stay a moment. The rest of you, please get the Team together where we're holding the prisoners. Drag Big Bill and Little Charlene out in front of the other ones and wait on us. We'll be there in fifteen minutes."
“There's no need to get your hands dirty, Miss Brightner,” Gary said as soon as they were alone. He looked troubled. “Me and Jimmy can take care of them."
“No. All I want you to do is read off the charges, then when the time comes, speak to the other prisoners afterward. Let's do it like this."
Lyda told him.
Gary nodded. “That's all fine, except the last part. Do we really want to start a ... a war, I'd guess you'd call it."
“I think so. If we let Rockner continue with what he's doing when we have the means to stop it, then I think we assume part of the guilt. And, Gary, it's not just because of what happened to me. I've seen it at school with bullies. If no one does anything, it just goes on and on. Those kind of people need to be stopped now, and an example made of them. We may be here a long time and the longer it's allowed to go on, the easier it will be for us to not think about it."
“Okay. I guess you're right, but I don't have to like it. I've always been leery of good intentions."
“You mean like telling other people what's good for them?"
“That's okay. It's just that when one person or group starts forcing their ideas of good behavior on other people, they usually don't know where to stop. And all too often, their own ideas are at odds with ones that aren't actually hurting anyone; they're just offensive to the ones doing the forcing."
“That's not the case here. Dad told me a society has to protect the innocent and the weak."
“I agree. Let's just always remember the limits of our society, such as we have here, and not start up a jihad of some sort."
“All I want is for the abuse of kids and others who can't defend themselves to stop."
“I'm with you that far. Are you ready?"
“I guess so."
* * * *
“...murder, rape, rape of minor children, assault with intent to enslave, enslavement, trading and selling of human beings and sexual assault of females without their consent. In the case of Charlene Smith, willingly aiding and abetting William Gross in all the acts just described."
“This is a fucking kangaroo trial! You ain't got no legal authority here!” Big Bill screamed, sensing what was coming.
“You've both been sentenced to death,” Gary said.
While the shocked expressions were still on their faces and before they could begin to struggle, Lyda drew her revolver and stepped forward. She looked out to make sure no one was in the line of fire, pointed it down at Big Bill and squeezed the trigger. She had practiced dry firing without bullets in the chamber already, so she was prepared for the hard pull of the trigger. The shot hit Big Bill just above the bridge of his nose. Immediately, she turned to Charlene. Killing the woman was harder. She hadn't actually assaulted her, but ... Lyda shot her before she could change her mind.
Most of her team was able to see that she was the one who carried out the executions. Lyda had planned it that way. She wanted them to know she was capable of not only making difficult decisions, but able to involve herself directly in the consequences of them. It was th
e same resolve that had allowed her to sleep peacefully the night before.
Lyda looked out over the mass of unsmiling faces. She knew some of them might not agree with death sentences but she was determined to keep them on her side. She began to speak, forcing her voice into a calm she didn't feel inside. They had stood silent while she performed the duty of executioner. Now, she had to convince them to go to war.
“I know some of you may not have agreed with what just happened. I'm sorry. If there had been a way to lock them up and make certain they could never harm anyone again, I might have been able to do persuade myself not to have them executed, but I sort of doubt it. You all just heard what they were guilty of. There's nothing worse in my mind than grown men and women who assault innocent children, for no other reason than that they're physically stronger and want to. They have no morals. I have my doubts they're even human.
“There's something even worse, though, and that's slavery, because it goes on and on. And worse than that is child slavery of a sexual nature, like we've discovered. The man who called himself Big Bill has sold every child he could get his hands on to the Rocky Mount gang. The woman who called herself Little Charlene was well aware of it and helped him. I believe we have to put a stop to it."
Lyda saw some nods among her followers, but no groundswell of enthusiasm. Nevertheless, she continued. “I won't force anyone to help me with this. I will ask for volunteers to form a task force, an army I guess you could call it, to attack and break up the Rocky Mount gang and then turn over their facilities to people who will share them fairly, as we've been doing here. I'm not calling for a war of extermination, or a crusade to bring the rest of this place under our rule, but just a simple fight to stop a horrible practice. I hope once Rockner loses his authority, there will be enough good people around to take care of him and his helpers."
