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Heron Fleet

Page 13

by Paul Beatty


  ‘What?’ She heard the shock in his voice. ‘What troubles could one as young as you have that would drive you to that?’ He was incredulous and concerned.

  ‘I had realised something I had been told was true. I thought the person was lying but she wasn’t.’

  ‘How sure are you? Are you really convinced you remember it properly?’

  ‘Quite sure. It was Ruth. She told that Jonathan and Anya were … involved. But I saw them at the Harvest Festival. I saw how they looked at each other, how they touched each other’s hands. That’s how I knew for sure.’

  Tobias squeezed her shoulders. ‘Try to take some deep breaths. It’s all come back in a rush. You need to get over the initial shock.’

  ‘But how could Anya do it? What’s wrong with me?’

  ‘Nothing, absolutely nothing I’m sure.’

  ‘But I must have done something wrong to drive her away?’

  ‘Not necessarily.’

  In the next few minutes, as she tried to get back her self-control, she was very glad that Tobias was there. Partly, it was that she didn’t have to feel ashamed in front of him as she would have done with another Gatherer, partly it was the fact he didn’t either approve or disapprove. She could just be herself and he accepted that.

  Gradually she realised that though it was a terrible shock, at least it explained the dreams and the feeling of unknown anxiety she had felt from seeing Ruth in the Gathering Hall a few minutes earlier. But as the initial emotional impact subsided, it was replaced by the worry of what she was going to say to Anya that evening.

  ‘Is your boat alright?’ she said in a rather irrelevant way, simply to pull her own mind away from the image of Anya coming with her evening meal and she not knowing what to say or feel.

  ‘Yes it’s fine. I might not want to admit it but they’ve done a good job on the repairs and the breaking of the mast has not done too much damage to the mounting in the keel.’ He paused. ‘You know I was running before that storm not caring whether I lived or died. I’d just seen someone I was very fond of killed by the people who shot me. I know how you must have felt.

  ‘But you saved me and though I didn’t care about living then, I’m glad you saved me. I’m glad to be alive now. Is there anywhere you’d like to go to think what to do next; somewhere happy, not full of bad memories? I’d be honoured to take you there.’

  She smiled at him. ‘Take me to the Glasshouses,’ she said.

  By the time they got to the Glasshouse entrance, the most that anyone might have thought odd was that Francesca looked a bit red-eyed. Tobias was clearly impressed by the domes and the other houses as they walked down the path. He took at every detail and craned his neck in delight so as not to miss anything, asking more questions about how they worked than she could answer. When they got to the Central Dome and she left him to look at the controls while she went off to think on her own in the Propagation Chamber.

  Seeing the preparations for the next planting of seedlings made her feel much better. She was able to talk to some of the Gardeners who were glad she was up and kept asking when she would be back. It gave her back some of her confidence but it didn’t lead to any answers about what she would say to Anya.

  She was leaving the Propagation Chamber when she saw Sylvia coming into the Main Dome. If anyone could see through her front it was Sylvia. Francesca dodged behind a tank of fermenting seaweed fertiliser so she would not be seen. From where she stood she could see Tobias in the centre of the dome looking up at the ventilation flaps. Sylvia saw him and went towards him. Tobias looked down and was aware of the Head Gardener.

  ‘Sylvia,’ said the Outlander.

  ‘Tobias,’ the Head Gardener replied. Their tone was formal but familiar. ‘Yes,’ Sylvia went on, ‘they have done good service. We’ve been able to add more over the years from your plans as you’ll have seen as you came down the main path.’

  ‘Glad to be of service.’ He bowed slightly. There was a long pause. ‘What happened to her, Sylvia?’

  ‘She died three years after you left.’

  ‘Left!’ Tobias shouted. ‘Left! The Council put me on my own boat and towed it out to sea! They even tied me hand and foot. I hardly left! If I hadn’t found that knife I’d have drowned!’

  ‘We thought we could rely on you to find the knife where we put it. You were always resourceful.’

  ‘You planted it?’

  ‘Yes, Lucia, Peter and me. We thought they’d do you harm if you didn’t go and that it might all get out of hand and would threaten the child. She was nearly three if you remember.’ Sylvia’s face showed sudden frustration and she knocked her staff down on the floor in anger. ‘How long did you and Lucia think you could have gone on having a life half in and half out of the community in your own little roundhouse beyond the ring ditch? How long did you think the Council would let you defy the Rule?’

  ‘We were doing alright. They were happy enough to tolerate us while I was building this!’ He made an extravagant gesture that took in the dome, the controls, everything around them.

  ‘Yes they were. But for pity’s sake try to remember why you built this.’ Tobias was silent and looked to Francesca a little sulkily. ‘Well since the cat’s got your tongue I’ll remind you. It was those dreadful growing seasons before the child was born. You told the Council that we needed a way of supplementing what we could grow in the fields. You told them of seeing the remnant of houses made of glass that people had once used in the cities and you reckoned you could find the materials to build us some of our own.’

  ‘And I was as good as my word!’

  ‘Yes you were. These Glasshouses saved us, and better than that as the weather has got more stable, they’ve allowed us to thrive. But it was dangerous and unstable then and no time for an unplanned child or trying to live outside the community. It was always all or nothing with you. Always respond today, think tomorrow. It couldn’t go on. If we hadn’t put a stop to it one way or another you and your family would have died. Peter and I couldn’t have stood that. We loved you both and when Lucia realised that your behaviour was endangering the child she helped us. Tobias, she chose her daughter over you!’

  There was a faint echo as Sylvia’s words rolled round the dome before Tobias spoke. ‘What happened after you disposed of me?’

  ‘Lucia came to live with me and…’

  ‘…you took her as your partner!’

  ‘No. She only loved one person, you.’

  ‘But you put the child in the Crèche?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What happened to Lucia?’

  ‘Giving you and the child up killed her. She detached herself as best she could but she never really came to terms with seeing her daughter nearly every day and not being able to hold her or acknowledge her. Three years after you left, in the first big storm of the Autumn, she went out into the wind and never came back. I didn’t stop her.’

  ‘And the child?’

  ‘Her name was changed and she was treated like any other child. She’s grown up as well as any and better than most.’

  ‘She doesn’t know? Isn’t that her right?’

  ‘Right? To know something that would make her life difficult? Have some sense. She’s safe and happy. Be content with that.’

  ‘Can I see her?’

  ‘You already have. But if you mean will I point her out to you, never. I’ll not allow the accident of you being swept up here to make her unhappy and undo the good we did.’

  As quickly as the pain in her joints would allow Sylvia swept passed Tobias and out of the Central Dome. His head drooped and he looked crestfallen as she passed.

  Even given her own troubles, Francesca was astonished; Tobias had once been a Gatherer. She could not conceive of anyone leaving Heron Fleet. To her the community was the whole world. But worse than that he had deliberately broken the Rule, something she had just sworn to uphold for the rest of her life. Then there was a child in the community that had been born out of his
and Lucia’s relationship. Someone she knew was that child.

  But mixed with her abhorrence of his actions was sympathy for him. To have lost Heron Fleet, to have lost his partner and have been cast out so brutally must have been terrible.

  She was caught between the emotions, not knowing which to side with.

  When they got back to the Infirmary Francesca rested. She had waited a decent time before rejoining Tobias in the Central Dome to hide that she had heard the argument between him and Sylvia. Then they made their way back. As she rested she thought about what she was going to say to Anya when she came with the evening meal, but nothing occurred to her.

  Then it was too late. There was no more thinking time. At the end of the ward Anya was saying hello to the attendants. Tobias looked up from his bed. He had been discreetly reading some documents brought back from the boat. He looked over and winked.

  ‘Good luck,’ he whispered as he packed up the papers. ‘If you need me I’ll be in calling distance. I’ll keep the attendants out of the way.’

  Then Anya was there, smiling, making her way down between the beds, carrying the evening tagine and a basket in which would be hardbread and something to drink. In the moment that she saw her, Francesca knew that no amount of reserve or preparation would have been of any use. She wanted to scream simultaneously in guilt and anger.

  Guilt in not having done what was necessary to keep her lover happy. To ask Anya’s forgiveness for the failing in her that had driven Anya away, promising wildly that it would not make any difference; imploring for forgiveness.

  Anger which would demand why Anya had done it. Why she had broken the Rule, rejected her love and the commitments they had made when she had left Ruth and they had become partners.

  In the end she did neither. All she could do, as Anya came to her bed and put the tagine and the basket down, was to get up and throw her arms around her, sobbing and kissing her, binding her arms in love so that there was no chance of rejection, no chance of being fended off.

  ‘What on earth is wrong?’ was all that Anya could get out.

  ‘I love you! I love you! You know that don’t you?’ They subsided onto the bed and Francesca had to let Anya go.

  ‘Yes, I know you love me.’ Fear came into Anya’s face. ‘You’ve not got worse?’ She trembled slightly and her voice was unsteady. ‘You’re not in danger again?’

  Francesca started to weep again but managed to shake her head. Anya sighed and the fear passed. ‘Then what is it?’

  Francesca collected herself as best she could. ‘I know,’ she said trying not to let her voice break and the sobbing start again.

  ‘Know what?’ said Anya.

  ‘I’ve remembered. I remembered everything that happened at the Harvest Festival and in the storm. It was seeing the boat this afternoon. It made my memory come back.’

  ‘Well that’s good isn’t it? You’ll know how much of a heroine you were, saving the Outlander and all.’

  ‘I remember everything, including what Ruth told me that night.’ Anya went pale. ‘I know I was trying to kill myself because of what she told me.’

  ‘What did she tell you?’ said Anya.

  ‘She said she’d seen you with Jonathan.’ Anya dropped her eyes and rubbed her hand across her forehead. Francesca felt sick. ‘It doesn’t matter you know. I don’t care, if we can just go on the way we were. We can keep it secret.’ At that moment she just wanted to push time back, to make things how they had been. She would have said anything in the hope of that.

  ‘Don’t you want to know how and why?’ said Anya. Her voice was controlled but her hands shook.

  ‘It won’t make any difference to me.’

  ‘I think you should know what you’re attempting to restore before you make rash promises. I think you should know what sort of person you’re offering to forgive, go on loving and cover up for in front of the Council.’ Her voice broke and there were tears in her eyes but she pursed her lips together and she looked determined to go on.

  ‘I suppose it began when you started to teach him to swim?’

  ‘That gave us the opportunity but if I’m truthful, and you shouldn’t have anything except the truth from me, we’d noticed each other before then.’

  ‘But didn’t you love me?’

  ‘Yes, I loved you. I still love you in many ways. I’ll never love anyone else like I love you.’

  ‘So you don’t love Jonathan?’

  ‘No, I love him too, it’s just,’ she paused, ‘different.’ She shook her head from side to side so that her swirling hair hid her face for a second. Then she looked Francesca full in the face. ‘Have you never wondered what would happen if men and women started to fall in love? If the Rule was broken and we all simply mated as we chose?’

  ‘No, I never have.’

  ‘I always have. I’ve always wondered what we were being protected from. Perhaps I was wondering what we were being denied. I’ve always noticed boys. Thought some of them smooth and silky just like the girls. Jonathan was one of those boys and for him I now know that I was one of those girls.’

  ‘But that’s not really very different from me fancying you.’

  ‘No, that’s not, but when I had the opportunity I thought I’d find out what would happen. You know me – act first, think later.’ Francesca tried to embrace her again but Anya resisted, ‘No, let me go on, I don’t think I’ll ever have the strength to tell you this again. I got an opportunity one day, when I was taking him for a longer swim upstream. We were out of sight, on a secluded part of the river. I kissed him and he responded. We felt guilty for days after but we couldn’t help but see each other, I had to teach him to swim so every day after work when your muscles are tired and you’re most aware of you body, its senses, its feelings. In the end the inevitable happened.’

  Francesca started to cry, ‘Was I so much a failure as a lover?’

  ‘No, it’s not the same. There is the comfort and pleasure of sex, the bonding of equals and companions. You and I have that. With Jonathan that side is not as intense. Not as good.’

  ‘So you can come back to me?’

  ‘Well if that was all there was then yes I could. In that sense I love you more and I think in the end that may be the most important sense. But there is something more, the bit we’re being delivered from. There is the promise of children as well. Don’t ask me how it works – I don’t understand. But that provides a second bond and now I know that it is very important to me.’

  ‘But I’ll make it better. We’ll find a way.’

  ‘I wish we could but it is impossible.’

  ‘There’s nothing impossible for us!’

  ‘No, there is one problem we can’t fix. Even if I could, I wouldn’t. I’m pregnant.’

  The Founder’s Diary IV

  Day 60

  It’s been a little while since I wrote. It’s not that there’s not been things happening but I needed time to come to terms with the fighting.

  One of the effects of our role was that we’ve all been given much more freedom to come and go. We are still housed separately from the men but we can see them with permission of the guards and they can come and see us. Their place is pretty much the same as ours with bunk beds and communal eating area. The other civilians they share with look pale and nowhere near as healthy as our men. I understand why the Commander had been so keen on our men fighting.

  I’ve seen Bill, the soldier I treated during the fighting, a couple of times. He’s hobbling around on crutches. The first time I saw him he came in when I was visiting the men. He’s quite friendly with them. He sat down and rested his leg. I sat next to him.

  ‘Nice job,’ he said pointing at the bandage. ‘How long before you think it will heal?’

  ‘You’re probably more of an expert than me,’ I said. He grinned.

  ‘Miriam says the bandage will have to stay in place for a few more days and then she’ll have a look,’ he said. ‘But it’s already tingling so I knows it will
be OK. It’s great to know that there are lassies like you two around if we get hurt.’ And he pulled me towards him and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I pulled away and blushed.

  There are sixteen soldiers in all with two officers the Commander and his second in command which means they are hard pressed to put on a guard all the time even when there are no wounded in the camp. Then there are eighteen men, twelve women and five children. Finally there are us: twelve men, fifiteen women and ten children. So our original estimate of 200 in the fort was way short of the mark. When we arrived we must have caused quite a stir; the workforce doubled at a single stroke. No wonder they did not want us to contact each other.

  I went round to see Miriam who showed me more of the fort and introduced me to the civilian women I’d not met foraging. As with the men, the children in their group looked sickly and the women listless in contrast with us. I wondered why we should be so much healthier and why they were weaker than us. I supposed that we have kept the conditioning that we had from our life at Winter’s Hill. The poor city food and the way we live in the fort has not yet ground us down so we still have the advantage. As soon as I’d thought that, I began to see signs of their weakness everywhere. Over the next few days I started to catalogue our advantages, our strengths. In the end it was certain and I went to see James. ‘We’re strong enough to escape from here aren’t we?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking that as well,’ he said. ‘The question is when and how?’

  Day 63

  All I have been able to think about for the last few days is escape. It’s not as straightforward as it seems. First, there are the weapons, though James thinks this is not as big a problem as I imagine. He argues that from what happened in the attack it is clear that fences away from the gate are easy to breach. We could get through them and be away quickly enough to disappear into the night. But if we go silently we will not be able to take food or transport with us. A bigger problem is the winter. If we go now then we will have to travel in the coldest weather in open country.

 

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