The Victor's Heritage (The Jonah Trilogy Book 2)

by Anthony Caplan

  “The old boys knew how to live. They’ve died out now. Nothing left. We need to mourn for the earth and bring back the old ways again,” answered Abel.

  It was dark once the door closed. There were no windows. Their eyes adjusted, and Abel motioned for them to sit. He brought them two Mason jars of water he poured from a metal bucket. They sat in the folding chairs by the sink. The cracks in the siding allowed some light inside, enough to see. There was a rough plank workbench against the wall piled high with animal skins and bones and dried plants, with wild flowers and dried leaves in bunches. Corrag drank the water. She wondered who Abel thought they were. He was a crazy old survivor, one of the holdouts from the war of secession that the Council had never bothered to track down because he had never appeared on anybody’s lists. The fact that he could still be up here on his own was itself an indictment of their claims of control.

  “This water is strange. It has a taste of something weird,” said Ben.

  “Spring-fed mountain water. I’ll show you where I get it,” said Abel. “When I first come up here there was no water. I had to find it. I was just a little tyke. But I hardly remember that. Anyway it’s not important. You need to know, but not about me. I’m just the messenger. It’s the earth that speaks.”

  Ben looked at her in the semi-darkness. He thought Abel was a crazy old coot. But Corrag wanted to keep listening to him. There was something soothing and calm about the shack and his voice. Sandy poked her hand with his muzzle and she petted him.

  “What does it say, Abel?” she asked absentmindedly.

  “Hmm? I don’t know. Listen, you two is hungry. I forgot I need to feed you. Let me give you some food.”

  He disappeared into the darkness between the workbench and the far wall. Ben and Corrag looked at each other, shifting the folding chairs around to see each other easier. Ben smiled, as if all of this was part of some plan he had foreseen and devised. Corrag had questions about Abel she needed answered. Wouldn’t he have needed inoculations against dengue and the avian virus that had wiped out the population of the mountain states? How had he avoided the orbiting aerial surveillance satellites and their heat sensor cameras that spotted the signals of life processes from space? Why was he allowed to survive here on his own? She wanted to whisper to Ben, but she stilled her curiosity. It was all right to not know all the answers. Clarity was over-rated.

  When he returned, he brought with him a bowl with dried roots. He peeled them and then scraped with the knife into a mound of flakes. He produced part of a leg bone of some animal from which he cut sinews of dried meat and placed it all back in the bowl at their feet on the ground. Ben got out of his chair and sat cross-legged on the earth floor tamped almost smooth. Corrag followed suit. The meat was tough and hard to chew, but the vegetable matter had some moisture left in it, which almost gave it a palatable taste. They were both hungrier than they realized after the hike. It was about mid-morning but almost pitch black, except for the light coming through the cracks.

  “My Mama and Papa come up here from Sonora with a bunch of folks. They were mostly Yaqui. They were not people who farmed or went looking for that kind of work. They were looking for the mountains because they knew the end was coming and the Spanish missions had told them to be on the lookout for signs of the war. They refused to fight for General Walker when he tried to put down the men who wanted their freedom, so a lot of them were put in jail. And then the rest took off in a big convoy for the north, because that way was cooler weather, and in those days there was tremendous heat. You two probably are too young to remember. For a while we were in Arizona. That’s where I learned my English in a little school there that was broken up by secessionists who wanted to kill my mother because she was the leader of the group of women teaching them the ways of the medicinals. You’re eating some there; that’s lechuguilla root, which is good for your heart. The secessionists didn’t want us helping others to live free and together in nature. They wanted it all under their control in the name of the markets. You remember that part. The markets were going to be the answer to everything. Just put us all on the shelves of the market, you know. So anyway we came up here I was about five I guess by then and the deer were the first to notice. And this was after the big battles in the Mississippi where they loosed the crazy winds and tornadoes that knocked us back; and that got out of control, and then there was sickness on the land for many years. They said it was bird flu and had us put down all our flocks, but then they said it was a fix that all the corporates had put on to starve us out. The deer helped us survive long enough to get our bearings, and we lived up here pretty much on our own, and once in awhile we went down to the highway and just stayed there watching the traffic, waiting for our cousins on a certain date, the anniversary of the lady of the rosary, which is in October, I believe. I’ve almost lost track of time. What year are we in? It doesn’t matter. Time is ending anyway. The planets will sink back into the fire of the suns, and we’ll soon see if there is more than one universe. I believe there is because the deer tend to believe that this is not all there is. That’s why they don’t mind dying and giving up their hearts for us. That is the sign, you see. That is the final sign of the grandmothers that they talked about and my mama and papa talked about and even you talked about the first time you came up here. Do you remember? You always said you would come back, and now you have.”

  While he talked Ben and Corrag ate. Soon it felt like they'd always been there and it was the most natural thing in the world to listen to Abel's voice telling his stories that opened up into a world they had never known, despite Abel's assurances to the contrary, implicating them in its meanings, an alternate reality that existed in his mind. His voice was so soft, and he seemed so sure. Maybe it was possible he had known they were coming.

  Ben's initial anxiety went away, and Corrag wondered whether there was something in the food that was shifting their sense of time. Later, when the sun had risen halfway up the sky, judging from the light coming in the open door, she followed Sandy outside and saw Abel working in the ditch that ran along the back of the shack, perpendicular to the trail that she could see continuing up to the face of the mountain. She wandered over and saw Abel face down in a hollow, through which she could see just the faintest glint of water running. He was mumbling words in a language she was sure she had never heard. Then a black bird flew overhead. She thought it was a crow, and Sandy barked at it. Abel got to his knees and turned to see her standing behind him.

  "Hi there, Corrag. I was just thanking the water for bringing you here. You and Ben. After all these years you've returned. And the water always promised. So I’m giving thanks. You know, you can bring the water wherever you go if you remember how. I'll show you later again. I'll show you and Ben."

  "I've never been here before, as far as I know," said Corrag.

  "Well, there's stuff you're not aware of. Stuff you don't know because you've buried it. But that's okay. It's all part of the plan," he said cheerily.

  "Plan? We don't believe in that," said Corrag. She had an urge to test his assurance. "There's a process of space and time unfolding and we humans need to stay ahead of it. We can do that with our scientists who see and measure and analyze. Before the planet dies. What kind of God lets his planet die?"

  "The planet die? The planet's just getting started, Corrag. I'll show you. There's no need to look for others."

  "Are you saying the scientists are wrong?"

  "Not wrong. Sometimes they're looking at the world through their lenses and what have you and a little ant will come up from behind and bite them on the ass. That's God playing with them because he has a sense of humor. That's all. Not wrong. It's what they do. It's good to use what He gave us, and put it all together. But see what I mean? There's a lot of stuff we know that the scientists haven't figured out. Which is why it's important. You know what I’m saying, Corrag?"

  "I never knew my grandparents."

  "Listen to the grandparents. And the scientists,
Corrag. They’re both right."

  Abel laughed and jumped up from the ditch so that he appeared beside her. His age was impossible to gauge with his wrinkled brown skin and lidded eyes. Other times he seemed barely in his twenties with his strong, sure movements and rapidly shifting facial expressions. Corrag thought he was like water itself -- radiant, sparkling, and larger than he appeared, as if he contained within himself reserves of strength and wisdom.

  They walked with Abel and Sandy up the mountain along a ravine. Ben and Corrag trailed behind, and Ben stopped often to look out over the valley from the ledges. They kept going higher up, scrambling over the boulders, barely keeping Abel and Sandy in their sight up ahead. Corrag was trying to explain how she felt about Abel, as if she had known him for a long time. She had never met anybody so strange, and yet she had also never felt as comfortable with somebody in the first moments after meeting. It was as if he had some knowledge about her that was the missing piece of a puzzle she had been trying to reconstruct without knowing it all her life. The school, her parents, had all contributed valuable pieces, but had also missed out some of them.

  Ben thought she should be more wary of her enthusiasm.

  "Look, there's no way he could direct the water the way you think, with the powers of his mind," said Ben making exaggerated vibrating gestures with his hands like some old vaudeville wizard from the movies. On him the gesture seemed forced. She couldn't think of an immediate answer. She was hurt that Ben couldn't see what she saw in Abel and would so easily dismiss him as some unimportant aspect of the landscape. Ben was focused on seeking advantage in a way that bothered her. As if the default setting in him was the gamer that was always looking ahead to the next junction, always seeking opportunity to gain strength for the next confrontation with the inevitably lurking enemy. But that wasn't the way the world worked. Everything went and returned and the ego was like a dam that held back the water pumped by the motion of the universe. Eventually the mechanism would fail. It was what Miss Schilling had been aiming at in her halting way to teach them and Ben had yet to see. Perhaps the war with the Naguani would teach him.

  The trail was invisible except for a slight wear in the line of scrub. They were coming down the backside into a valley of young pines growing out of scrub grass. Abel detoured around the valley and kept along the ridges, hopping from rock to rock like a mountain goat. It was tough to keep up, and even Ben was getting winded. At the end of the valley it became clear why he had detoured. There was a concrete wall, an old dam from one ridge to the next. Corrag marvelled at the premonition she'd had of it. The valley had once been a lake.

  "You know what this was?" asked Ben.

  "What?" she asked.

  "Lake San Pedro."

  "That's why they built the desalination plant before we were born. I remember my Dad talking about it. He said it gave the Federation more control over the water supply then the old hydro system which was rigged for the big farmers and fat cats," said Corrag.

  "Yeah. It's pretty dry now."

  Abel waited on a flat rock with Sandy. Corrag and Ben took their time climbing down to him.

  "Wanted to show you the old world that's disappearing. You bringing the new way. The water flows strong. That's why you need to listen to your tears. It's the water calling from inside. Don't bottle it. Here look at this," said Abel.

  The flat rock was the top of the wall. Abel walked them out along it. They could look over and see to the north through the mountains what had once been the old Inland Empire, the agricultural heartland of the United States until the years of drought and secession put an end to the decrepit model of so-called representative government of the people by the corporate interests.

  "This was Lake San Pedro," said Ben.

  "That's what your people called it. It never had a name," said Abel.

  Out in the middle, they stopped and sat on the edge. Abel handed out some food from a satchel bag over his shoulder. It was a dried, almost unpalatable sort of plant matter. He even gave some to Sandy, who wolfed it down whole.

  "I know it’s hard. Just eat it. You won't be hungry and it will help you see what is really here." Abel didn't say another word. Hours passed, and the sun went behind the western mountain. Corrag fell asleep. In the dim light of the late afternoon, Ben asked Corrag to come with him. He had climbed down the face of the dam and come back up. She got to her feet and followed. It wasn't hard to get down the wall. There were built in handholds and steps. Then at the bottom she could see what he had seen, the crack and the water flowing through, not a torrent, just a trickle.

  "He's right. The water is coming," said Ben.

  "Do you think it's safe?"

  "The dam? It won't go immediately. But eventually it will crumble."

  "What now? What about us?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, we have a choice. He’s given us a clear choice. Follow the dam or the water. Which is it?"

  "Corrag, I don't know what it is Abel gave us to eat, but I don't really see we have a choice. We can't stay here. We have to go back up and get home."

  "Right now, Ben. What's your choice?"

  "You're scaring me, Corrag. Don't talk like that."

  She could see he was as frightened and confused as she was when faced with the wall of the world and its seemingly inescapable logic. They sat together and waited for the night. Ben leaned over and put his arm around her and hugged her closer. The dam wall grew dim and the black bird swooped down from it overhead.

  "Is that the crow?" asked Corrag.

  Ben didn't answer. He was asleep.

  Instead of the concrete wall, there was a waterfall, with an iridescent cascade of water broken in a moonlit glow. Deer stood along the banks of the river and tall pines had grown in the surrounding fields. She heard Abel call for Sandy. She heard her father call her name. Where were they?

  "Ben. What time is it?"

  Ben woke up and looked at his emosponder.

  "Oh, my God. It's late. Let's go, Corrag." He stood and pulled her to her feet. Where were they? Disoriented, she followed his voice as he called from above. Then she could see the wall of the dam as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Where had the waterfall gone? It had been such a vivid presence. But now she felt a gnawing in her gut and her legs shaking as she climbed. When she reached the top of the wall she collapsed in a heap. Sandy barked and dug at her hair with his paw.

  "I'm okay, Sandy. I'm okay."

  Abel held her by the chin and dribbled in water to her mouth from an old tin canteen. It tasted sweet. Her eyes, ears, even her sense of taste were playing tricks on her. Then there was a loud noise, and the lights blinded her. Sandy barked and Abel yelled.

  "Run, Sandy. Go boy."

  The lights were followed by cable dropping out of the hatches of the Federation Home Air UC7 reconnaissance choppers, and rappelling soldiers descended to the ground in quick succession. Corrag screamed.

  It took about a minute. Working in silence, they handcuffed and blindfolded the two of them and bundled them towards a chopper whose blades were still whirling. Corrag cried out Ben's name. He didn't answer.

  "Keep quiet," said a soldier with his hand on her shoulder. Dirt and gravel kicked up from the downdraft of the whirling blades. Unseen hands pulled her onboard. Then they picked up and flew off into black space. Corrag cried for what she'd seen and for the childhood sense of possibility she'd left behind in that mountain valley. She let the tears flow as Abel had said. She never had the chance to talk to Ben, and for years wondered if he had seen the same things she had: the waterfall, the deer and the moonlit wonders of a reborn world.

  Two -- Metamorphosis

  The process turned out to be benign given that her family was already on the Stellar Rankbook for potential colonists. Ben was not so lucky. She was turned over to the Testers who scanned for signs of atrophy in the amygdala and prefrontal lobes and conducted reactive surveys for empathetic alineation. Then in conjunction with the parents a plan of
remediation was devised. It consisted initially of sessions with Federation attorneys. Corrag's had a bristling moustache and an aggressive conversational style in which all queries ended up leading to Corrag having to declare her agreement with his propositions, arrived at after much initial small talk, that for example Democravian policies on communal property rights, or the war with Basin tribes for resource conservation, were sound and in the interest, as he said repeatedly, with minor variations, of "human progress." Corrag found herself getting nauseous during these sessions. Then they finally released her from the holding cell in Edmundstown's Federation courthouse and she changed out of the orange jumpsuit into a dress and shoes that Alana had dropped off. The guard, a black woman with a frumpy middle-aged face, told her Ben had been shipped out via Tubid to São Paulo that morning for the front line Federation camp in the Basin with his regiment and that he was on probation after having been judged mentally stable but "in need of rigor," which usually meant a demotion in rank. But given that he was a private already, he would be placed on foot patrol for extra weeks, which in the Basin could be a death sentence.

  The guard woman's face displayed no emotion even with Corrag scanning hard for it, for any kind of sympathy. She felt it was a kind of monstrous thing not to have any emotion for Ben in the face of this plight that after all was her fault not his, and she wanted to blame somebody else. The guard woman was a convenient target, but she decided she did not hate her. Instead she hated the Federation with its rules and silly processes. That was a hard call because after all was said and done it was still her country, and her family were part of the tradition of communitarian democracy, which stood for a land of multipurpose and the greater good. But the guard woman wouldn't even look her in the eye, although to be fair she had told more than her duty would require about Ben and his fate. But not to see how it hurt her, not to be there at that moment. That was just Corrag being too soft. That was what Gurgie always accused her of, of lacking the killer instinct you needed in life, even despite all the kumbaya they got in the schools and from their parents. You had to be tough to survive. That was what Gurgie said. As if she was in any way tough. Corrag knew she was lacking in that quality. But she had her wits. She trusted in them with no reservations.