by Jessy Cruise
"You sound like Skip," Paula said, hearing this part. "Were you in the military?"
"I was in the army," Pat replied, "but I wasn't a combat soldier. I was a computer nerd in for a standard pre-college stint. My job was to help program software for M1A1 tanks. Still, a lot of that basic training they gave us stuck with me. It's not exactly rocket science constructing defenses, but it does take a little basic knowledge."
"Yeah," Paul said with good nature, "that's what I found out. We had a pretty harsh lesson about that back in our town."
"Oh yeah?" Pat asked, interested.
Paul and Paula took turns describing the history of the Garden Hill township. For the most part, as agreed upon beforehand, they told the truth about the events, leaving out only fine details about their actual ammunition supply, arsenal, and defensive set-up. They described the power struggle that had almost led to the downfall of town under Jessica and Dale. This seemed to hold particular interest among their hosts.
"We had our own version of Jessica here," Pat told them. "Only ours was a male and we didn't allow him to get as far as you did yours."
"Really?" Paula asked.
"Tom Borden," Pat explained. "He was actually our State Legislature representative for this district. He was a going nowhere politician who had pipe dreams of one day being the governor of California but who only managed to hang onto his current office because his name happened to appear first on the ballet. The only reason he was home that day was because he had one of the highest absentee rates in the state. He had many of the same traits of your Jessica and he tried real hard to take command of everyone as we were trying to get things together. He kept claiming that he was now the official governor of California since all of the other politicians were dead down in Sacramento. We followed him for a few days until it became apparent that he just wanted people to wait on him and revere him and that he didn't actually have any idea what he was doing. Eventually we removed him from power and, after the turmoil that we told you about, formed the three person committee we now have to make the important decisions."
"Did he go quietly?" Paul, thinking of Jessica's departure, wanted to know.
"He didn't," Renee told him. "He tried to organize an armed rebellion against us and we had to exile him from town. We sent him out and our guards were forced to shoot him after he tried to force his way back inside."
"That's too bad," Paul said. "It sounds like he and Jessica would've made a good couple."
The talk of town histories continued. Paul and Paula told about the attack on the town that had finally killed the voting alliance of Dale and Jessica and that had ultimately led to Jessica's own exile. Renee, in particular, seemed fascinated by Paul's heartfelt outpouring about watching Dale disintegrate and die from wounds that were probably not lethal.
"That must've been hard for you," she said sympathetically.
"It was very hard," he agreed. "I've never felt so helpless in my life. In my past life, when I was a fireman, I would've just had him flown to the trauma center. My contact with him would've been less than twenty minutes. In this life, I was the doctor and I had to watch him die."
"You did everything you could for him," Renee told him. "And the treatment you gave this other woman, this..."
"Sherrie," he said.
"Sherrie," she said. "Right. The treatment you gave Sherrie was outstanding considering your lack of higher medical training and supplies. You did everything right with her."
Paul looked at her carefully. "You seem rather knowledgeable on this subject," he told her.
"She should be," Pat said. "She's a doctor."
"A doctor?" Paula said excitedly. "You mean a real doctor, with a medical degree and everything?"
Renee laughed a little. "With a medical degree and everything," she agreed. "I was a family practitioner before the comet. I graduated from the UC Davis School of Medicine in 1985. My practice was the only one in this town. I had somewhat of a monopoly. Still do in fact. That's how I ended up as a part of the governing group after the impact. I was a somewhat respected member of the town."
"You have a doctor," Paula said slowly, speaking to no one in particular. "Your town is truly blessed."
"And your town has a helicopter," Pat said. "You are blessed as well. Maybe if we can foment this relationship a little, our respective blessings can work together."
"That was why we made contact with you," Paul put in. "We have a lot of pregnant women in town and very few medical supplies."
"And I'm sure that we could find uses for a community with a helicopter," Bonnie said.
"But the problem," Paul said, articulating what everyone was thinking, "is one of trust now, isn't it? We're sitting over here wondering if you are conspiring to steal our helicopter and our pilot. You are probably sitting over there wondering if we're conspiring to steal your doctor or other assets you might have."
"Trust," Pat agreed. "That is indeed where it all falls apart. We all know what human nature is like, don't we?"
"We do," Paula said. "The instinct of us humans is to try to take what we need if it benefits us. We will lie, cheat, and steal to get it without much of a second thought. How do we convince each other that we are not embarking upon this path?"
"Trust has to be earned and demonstrated," Bonnie said. "On both sides of the equation. We're working towards that now just by talking. We haven't got there yet, but maybe we will. So let's keep talking, shall we?"
"Why don't we?" Paul said.
And they continued talking. The discussion would go strong right up until the time that it was time for the visitors to be returned to the landing zone.
Skip was very cautious as he approached El Dorado Hills for the scheduled pick-up. With Jack in the observer's seat, he flew well to the south of Highway 50 from Cameron Park before turning to the west, adding more than fifty nautical miles to the trip. Once he was over the brown water of the Sacramento Valley/Sea, he turned to the right, following the shoreline until he reached the highway. Only then did he turn back to the east and, from as high an altitude as he could climb without risking icing problems, approach the town.
The flight, which had taken nearly forty minutes, had been almost completely without conversation. Jack, without the years of life experience as his mentor, remained very optimistic of the meeting that was taking place. After all, he figured, why wouldn't El Dorado Hills cooperate with them? It only made sense. He kept quiet however, knowing that Skip, who had a much more cynical and realistic view of what human beings were capable of, worried about what he would do if Paula and Paul failed to materialize at the pickup spot.
"We're coming up on it," Skip said softly as the hills guarding El Dorado Hills' western flank came into view. "Start looking."
"Bringing the FLIR on line," Jack dutifully replied, activating the system. As Skip slowed up the airspeed, he looked in the viewer, panning left and right, finally spotting four figures standing in the middle of the westbound lanes. "I've got four people ahead," he said. "Looks like two males and two females. I can't tell if two of them are our people or not."
"Any of them armed?" Skip asked.
"Not as far as I can tell," he replied. "There might be a handgun down there but there aren't any rifles."
Skip, knowing that Jack was probably looking at Paula and Paul in the company of two of the El Dorado Hillians, was not quite comforted just yet. Why were the other two people there? "Anything off on the flanks?" he asked.
"Nothing at all," Jack said after a complete scan was done. "They're alone."
"Okay," Skip said, pulling them into a hover. "Let's see if we can make contact."
"You're live," Jack replied after a check to make sure the radio was tuned to the right frequency.
Skip thanked his companion and then keyed the headset up. "El Dorado Hills landing party," he said calmly, his voice monotone, "this is the Garden Hill helicopter. Anyone down there?"
"One of the males is raising his hand to his face," Jack, still
watching carefully through the FLIR, announced. "It looks like he has the radio."
This was confirmed a moment later. "Skip, this is Paul," sounded in their headsets. "We have a visual on you. Everything is okay down here. I have two of the El Dorado Hills leadership with me but they are unarmed."
"We have a visual on you as well," Skip answered. He paused for an instant, keeping the radio link open, and then asked: "Do you have a code word for me?"
"I do," Paul answered. "The word is corporate."
Skip sighed in relief as he heard the correct word. True, it was technically possible that they had tortured one or both of their visitors to get that word, but it was very unlikely. "I copy the correct word," Skip said. "We'll be landing for the pick-up in about two minutes."
"I copy two minutes," Paul answered back.
Jack continued to watch the surrounding terrain through the FLIR as Skip made a cautious descent to the highway surface. There continued to be no signs of mammalian life within a one-mile radius of the four people. Satisfied that there would at least be no overwhelming attack by El Dorado Hills soldiers, Skip touched down on the asphalt about thirty yards away from the waiting group. He idled the engine once the skids were safely in contact and waited, his hands nervous on the controls, as Paul, Paula, and the other two trotted over.
"They look like they're all right," Jack observed.
"It seems so, doesn't it?" Skip answered.
Skip hated to be on the ground in unfamiliar territory. That was where the helicopter was most vulnerable. As such, it was his habit to make pick-ups and drop-offs as quickly as humanly possible. He had drilled everyone that regularly flew in the aircraft on how to get in and out so that his ground time in such circumstances would be less than 45 seconds at worst. This time however, the ground time stretched out much longer than that. The doors were opened slowly and introductions were made all around. Patrick Wilson and Dr. Renee Sawyer were the visitors that Paul introduced.
"Nice to meet you," Skip said a little testily, some of his nervousness leaching through into his words, hardly even noticing the salutation of "doctor" at the beginning of the woman's name.
Jack did though. "Are you a real doctor?" he asked, thoughts of Stacy's upcoming delivery dancing in his head.
"I'm a real doctor," she assured him with a chuckle.
While Skip fidgeted in his seat, wondering if this delay was some sort of trap set by the El Dorado Hills people to keep him on the ground long enough for troops to close in, Paul and Paula exchanged a few pleasantries with Patrick and Renee.
"Once again," Paul said, yelling a little over the sound of the engine, "we thank you for your hospitality."
"Yes," Paula echoed, "I'm glad you decided to let us land."
Handshakes were exchanged and then Paul handed over the portable radio that he had used to contact the helicopter. "We'll be in touch," he said.
Finally, at long last, he climbed inside, followed by Paula. The doors closed and the headsets were donned. The two people outside both trotted a safe distance away. Only then did Skip relax a bit.
"Everyone ready?" he asked.
"Ready," said Paula.
"Ready," echoed Paul.
With a sigh of relief, Skip applied power and got the rotor blades spinning up to take-off velocity. The view in front of them became a blur of spraying water and they broke contact with the ground, lifting into the sky. Just before he turned to the west, intending to skirt around the perimeter of the town again, they were able to see an SUV topping the rise in front of them, coming to pick up the two townspeople. By the time it reached them, Skip was nearly over the Sacramento Valley/Sea once again.
"So how did it go?" he asked, feeling safe for the first time since he'd dropped his two companions off.
"It went well," Paul replied, settling in against the wall. "They were a bit secretive overall, but they did share some pretty interesting information with us."
"Oh?" Skip asked.
"We talked for almost the entire three hours," Paula said. "They have a population of 500 people. Like us, men are the minority. Pat told us that they have 95 men. The rest are women and small children. Pat and Renee, the doctor that was with him, and one other woman are the ruling council that makes all of the decisions. They're kind of like we were with Jessica and Dale, only without the voting alliance."
"So they seem like they're cool?" Jack asked.
"As far as we can tell," Paul said. "They didn't tell us how much ammunition they had or how many guns but they were willing to share most other information with us after they got to know us a little."
"What kind of information?" Skip wanted to know.
Paula and Paul took turns narrating the story of how the current-day El Dorado Hills came to be. They told of the initial confusion and power struggles that were so similar to what their own town had gone through.
"They even had the same problems with people trying to cling to pre-comet morality in regards to relationships," Paula explained. "Their first month after organizing they had constant problems with women fighting among themselves over men and men giving in to the temptations of other women. Though they tend to be a little older than we are, most of them are still in their sexual years and cared enough about that for it to be a problem."
"And how did they solve the problem?" Skip asked. "The same way we did?"
"That's right," she said. "They now have an organized system of polygamy in place there. They told us that most men in town have at least two wives and some have as many as four. They also have a ceremony that they go through both for adding a new wife to a group and for dissolving a marriage."
"Dissolving a marriage?" Jack asked.
"Yep," Paula confirmed with a nod. "Apparently some of the groupings haven't worked out too well. Some jumped into the arrangement hastily without realizing what they were getting into and others just couldn't handle the concept of sharing. I expect we'll go through much the same thing in our town as more and more groups form."
"That's something to look forward to," Skip said. "How about defenses? Have they experienced any attacks?"
"They didn't discuss their defensive arrangements with us," Paul said. "Understandable considering the circumstances. But they did say that they have not had any contact with any organized group of survivors until us. They had stragglers during the first two months, just like we did, but nothing else."
"They said they were starting to wonder if they were the only group left on Earth," Paula added.
"I can see how they would think that," Skip allowed. "They are somewhat isolated there. They have the flooded valley to the west and a huge, nearly impenetrable mudfall and washout to the east. The canyon cuts off any sort of access to the north and to the south, there aren't any towns for miles."
"They also haven't done any sort of recon of the area," Paul said. "They told us that except for their fishing trips, no one ever leaves the town."
"Fishing trips?" Skip said, wincing in disgust. Like Paul and Paula when they were first told of this, his first thought was of the Sacramento Valley/Sea and the millions of dead bodies in it. His disgust turned to respect however when the actual situation was explained to him. He was particularly impressed by the navigation skills that would be required to boat across the debris-laden sixty-mile width of the valley and then out through San Francisco Bay to the open water. Since visibility was only about five miles or so through the rain, the majority of such a trip would necessarily need to be done without land-based references.
"Pat said they do it entirely with compasses and charts that they've made," Paula said. "They have GPS receivers but they still can't get any sort of signal from them because of the clouds. So far they've pulled in more than a ton of fish that they've dried or smoked. He said they've also brought back some crabs and lobsters as well. They eat those as part of a return feast whenever they come back."
"Crabs and lobster," Skip said slowly, his mouth watering at the very thought. He had a vision, a
lmost sexual in nature, of dumping fifty or sixty live crustaceans into the hot water tank used for bathing and boiling them until they were bright red. Of course there wouldn't be any butter to dip it in, but he thought he could live with that.
"Yes," Paul said, "amazing, isn't it? We touched on the possibilities of trade in the future but didn't go into any negotiations. I can certainly see us delivering a load of rice and wheat to them in exchange for some fish and some lobster though."
"Oh yeah," Jack said dreamily. Like everyone else in town, including his wives who made the stuff, he was getting quite tired of rice, spinach, and chicken noodle soup day after day.
"What about the possibility that they're setting us up?" Skip, reluctantly throwing the image of fresh seafood aside, asked next.
"Anything's possible," Paul allowed. "But for what it's worth, they seemed sincere."
"I agree," Paula said. "In fact, it seemed that the secrecy that they displayed was more out of the fear of us than anything else. I think that if we keep up a dialogue with them, it will be beneficial to both of us. Remember that they have a doctor there. That factor alone makes it worthwhile to stay on their good side. Imagine if there was a problem with one of the pregnant women as they approached delivery. Suppose there was a breach presentation or something like that. Skip could fly that woman to El Dorado Hills and have her in the presence of a doctor within a half-hour's time. No offense to you Paul, you've done a great job so far, but that doctor could do a C-section and save what would otherwise would be the death of a mother and child."
"They also had a complete pharmacy in their grocery store," Paul added. "They have access to antibiotics and other drugs and they have someone who knows how to give them."
"That is a good point," Skip was forced to allow.
"There are a hundred good reasons to maintain a relationship with these people," Paula said, "and only one reason not to: that they might try to take our helicopter or attack us. I think that until we have a reason to mistrust them - something we don't have at this point - we are compelled to further these meetings. The potential payback makes the gamble worth it."
