Hugo awards the short st.., p.83
Hugo Awards: The Short Stories (Volume 1), page 83
“There's oil elsewhere,” Danielis insisted. “And coal, iron, uranium, everything we need. But the world hasn't got the organization to get at it. Not in any quantity. So we fill the Central Valley with crops that'll yield alcohol,, to keep a few motors turning; and we import a dribble of other stuff along and unbelievably inefficient chain of middlemen; and most of it's eaten by the armies.” He jerked his head toward that part of the sky which the handmade airplane had crossed. “That's one reason we've got to have Reunification. So we can rebuild.”
“And the other?” Woodworth asked softly.
“Democracy—universal suffrage—” Danielis swallowed. “And so fathers and sons won't have to fight each other again.”
“Those are better reasons,” Woodworth said. “Good enough for the Espers to support. But as for that machinery you want—” He shook his head. “No, you're wrong there. That's no way for men to live.”
“Maybe not,” Danielis said. “Though my own father wouldn't have been crippled by overwork if he'd had some machines to help him ... Oh, I don't know. First things first. Let's get this war over with and argue later.” He remembered the scout, now gone from view. “Pardon me, Philosopher, I've got an errand.”
The Esper raised his hand in token of peace. Danielis cantered off.
Splashing along the roadside, he saw the man he wanted, halted by Major Jacobsen. The latter, who must have sent him out, sat mounted near the infantry line. The scout was a Klamath Indian, stocky in buckskins, a bow on his shoulder. Arrows were favored over guns by many of.the men from the northern districts: cheaper than bullets, no noise, less range but as much firepower as a bolt-action rifle. In the bad old days before the Pacific States had formed their union, archers along forest trails had saved many a town from conquest; they still helped keep that union loose.
“Ah, Captain Danielis,” Jacobsen hailed. “You're just in time. Lieutenant Smith was about to report what his detachment found out.”
“And the plane,” said Smith imperturbably. “What the pilot told us he'd seen from the air gave us the guts to go there and check for ourselves.”
“Well?”
“Nobody, around.”
“What?”
“Fort's been evacuated. So's the settlement. Not a soul.”
“But—but—” Jacobsen collected himself. “Go on.”
We studied the signs as best's we could. Looks like non-combatants left some time ago. By sledge and ski, I'd guess, maybe north to some strong point. I suppose the men shifted their own stuff at the same time, gradual-like, what they couldn't carry with 'em at the last. Because the regiment and its support units, even field artillery, pulled out just three-four days ago. Ground's all tore up. They headed downslope, sort of west by northwest, far's we could tell from what we saw.“
Jacobsen choked. "Where are they bound?"
A flaw of wind struck Danielis in the face and ruffled the horses' manes. At his back he heard the slow plop and squish of boots, groan of wheels, chuff of motors, rattle of wood and metal, yells and whipcracks of muleskinners. But it seemed very remote. A map grew before him, blotting out the world.
The Loyalist Army had had savage fighting the whole winter, from the Trinity Alps to Puget Sound—for Brodsky had managed to reach Mount Rainier, whose lord had furished broadcasting facilities, and Rainier was too well fortified to take at once. The bossmen and the autonomous tribes rose in arms, persuaded that a usurper threatened their damned little local privileges. Their protectees fought beside them, if only because no rustic had been taught any higher loyalty than to his patron. West Canada, fearful of what Fallon might do when he got the chance, lent the rebels aid that was scarcely even clandestine.
Nonetheless, the national army was stronger: more matérial, better organization, above everything an ideal of the future. Cinc O'Donnell had outlined a strategy—concentrate the loyal forces at a few points, overwhelm resistance, restore order and establish bases in the region, then proceed to the next place—which worked. The government now controlled the entire coast, with naval units to keep an eye on the Canadians in Vancouver and guard the important Hawaii trade routes; the northern half of Washington almost to the Idaho line; the Columbia Valley; central California as far north as Redding. The remaining rebellious Stations and towns were isolated from each other in mountains, forests, deserts. Bossdom after bossdom fell as the loyalists pressed on, defeating the enemy in detail, cutting him off from supplies and hope. The only real worry had been Cruikshank's Sierra Command, an army in its own right rather than a levy of yokels and citymen, big and tough and expertly led. This expedition against Fort Nakamura was only a small part of what had looked like a difficult campaign.
But now the Rolling Stones had pulled out. Offered no fight whatsoever. Which meant that their brother Catamounts must also have evacuated. You don't give up one anchor of a line you intend to hold. So?
“Down into the valleys,” Danielis said; and there sounded in his ears, crazily, the voice of Laura as she used to sing. Down in the valley, valley so low.
“Judas!” the major exclaimed. Even the Indian grunted as if he had taken a belly blow. “No, they couldn't. We'd have known.”
Hang your head over, hear the wind blow. It hooted across cold rocks.
“There are plenty of forest trails,” Danielis said. “Infantry and cavalry could use them, if they're accustomed to such country. And the Cats are. Vehicles, wagons, big guns, that's slower and harder. But they only need to outflank us, then they can get back onto Forty and Fifty—and cut us to pieces if we attempt pursuit. I'm afraid they've got us boxed.”
“The eastern slope—,” said Jacobsen helplessly.
“What for? Want to occupy a lot of sagebrush? No, we're trapped here till they deploy in the flatlands,” Danielis closed a hand on his saddlehorn so that the knuckles went bloodless. “I miss my guess if this isn't Colonel Mackenzie's idea. It's his style, for sure.”
“But then they're between us and Frisco! With damn near our whole strength in the north—”
Between me and Laura, Danielis thought.
He said aloud: “I suggest, Major, we get hold of the C.O. at once. And then we better get on the radio.” From some well he drew the power to raise his head. The wind lashed his eyes. “This needn't be a disaster. They'll be easier to beat out in the open, actually, once we come to grips.”
Roses love sunshine, violets love dew,
Angels in heaven know I love you.
The rains which fill the winter of the California lowlands were about ended. Northward along a highway whose pavement clopped under hoofs, Mackenzie rode through a tremendous greenness. Eucalyptus and live oak, flanking the road, exploded with new leaves. Beyond them on either side stretched a checkerboard of fields and vineyards, intricately hued, until the distant hills on the right and the higher nearer ones on the left made walls. The freeholder houses that had been scattered across the land a ways back were no longer to be seen. This end of the Napa Valley belonged to the Esper community at St. Helena. Clouds banked like white mountains over the western ridge. The breeze bore to Mackenzie a smell of growth and turned earth.
Behind him it rumbled with men. The Rolling Stones were on the move. The regiment proper kept to the highway, three thousand boots slamming down at once with an earthquake noise, and so did the guns and wagons. There was no immediate danger of attack. But the cavalrymen attached to the force must needs spread out. The sun flashed off their helmets and lance heads.
Mackenzie's attention was directed forward. Amber walls and red tile roofs could be seen among plum trees that were a surf of pink and white blossoms. The community was big, several thousand people. The muscles tightened in his abdomen. “Think we can trust them?” he asked, not for the first time. “We've only got a radio agreement to a parley.”
Speyer, riding beside him, nodded: "I expect they'll be honest. Particularly with our boys right outside. Espers believe in non-violence anyway."
“Yeah, but if it did come to fighting—I know there aren't very many adepts so far. The Order hasn't been around long enough for that. But when you get this many Espers together, there's bound to be a few who've gotten somewhere with their damned psionics. I don't want my men blasted, or lifted in the air and dropped, or any such nasty thing.”
Speyer threw him a sidelong glance. "Are you scared of them, Jimbo?" he murmured.
“Hell, no!” Mackenzie wondered if he was a liar or not. “But I don't like'em.”
“They do a lot of good. Among the poor, especially.”
“Sure, sure. Though any decent bossman looks after his own protectees, and we've got things like churches and hospices as well. I don't see where just being charitable—and they can afford it, with the profits they make on their holdings—I don't see where that gives any right to raise the orphans and pauper kids they take in, the way they do: so's to make the poor tikes unfit for life anywhere outside.”
“The object of that, as you well know, is to orient them toward the so-called interior frontier. Which American civilization as a whole is not much interested in. Frankly, quite apart tn the remarkable powers some Espers have developed, I often envy them.”
“You, Phil?” Mackenzie goggled at his friend.
The lines drew deep in Speyer's face. “This winter I've helped shoot a lot of my fellow countrymen,” he said low. “My mother and wife and kids are crowded with the rest of Village in the Mount Lassen fort, and when we said good-by we knew it was quite possibly permanent. And in the past I've helped shoot a lot of other men who never did me any personal harm.” He sighed. “I've often wondered what it'd be like to know peace, inside as well as outside.”
Mackenzie sent Laura and Tom out of his head.
“Of course,” Speyer went on, “the fundamental reason you—and I, for that matter—distrust the Espers is that they represent something alien to us. Something that may eventually choke out the whole concept of life that we grew up with. You know, a couple weeks back, in Sacramento I stopped in at the University research lab to see what was going on. Incredible! The ordinary soldier would swear it witchwork. It was certainly more weird than ... than simply reading minds or moving objects by thinking at them. But to you or me it's a shiny new marvel. We'll wallow in it.
“Now why's that? Because the lab is scientific. Those men work with chemicals, electronics, subviral particles. That fits into the educated American's world-view. But the mystic unity of creation ... no, not our cup of tea. The only way we can hope to achieve Oneness is to renounce everything we've ever believed in. At your age or mine, Jimbo, a man is seldom ready to tear down his whole life and start from scratch.”
"Maybe so." Mackenzie lost interest. The settlement quite near now.
He turned around to Captain Hulse, riding afew paces behind. “Here we go,” he said. “Give my compliments to| Lieutenant Colonel Yamaguchi and tell him he's in charge till we get back. If anything seems suspicious, he's to act at his own discretion.”
"Yes, sir." Hulse saluted and wheeled smartly about. There had been no practical need for Mackenzie to repeat what had long been agreed on; but he knew the value of ritual. He clicked his big sorrel gelding into a trot. At his back he heard bugles sound orders and sergeants howl at their platoons.
Speyer kept pace. Mackenzie had insisted on bringing an extra man to the discussion. His own wits were probably no match for a high-level Esper, but Phil's might be
Not that there's any question of diplomacy or whatever. I hope. To ease himself, he concentrated on what was real and present—hoofbeats, the rise and fall of the saddle beneath him, the horse's muscles rippling between his thighs, the creak and jingle of his saber belt, the clean odor of the animal—and suddenly remembered this was the sort of trick the Espers recommended.
None of their communities was walled, as most towns and every bossman's Station was. The officers turned off the highway ..and went down a street between colonnaded buildings. Side streets ran off in both directions. The settlement covered no great area, though, being composed of groups that lived together, sodalities or superfamilies or whatever you wanted to call them. Some hostility toward the Order and a great, many dirty jokes stemmed from that practice. But Speyer, who should know, said there was no more sexual swapping around than in the outside world. The idea was simply to get away from possessiveness, thee versus me, and to raise children as part of a whole rather than an insular clan.
The kids were out, staring round-eyed from the porticos, hundreds of them. They looked healthy and, underneath a natural fear of the invaders, happy enough. But pretty solemn, Mackenzie thought; and all in the same blue garb. Adults stood among them, expressionless. Everybody had come in from the fields as the regiment neared. The silence was like barricades. Mackenzie felt sweat begin to trickle down his ribs. When he emerged on the central square, he let out his breath in a near gasp.
A fountain, the basin carved into a lotus, tinkled in the middle of the plaza. Flowering trees stood around it. The plaza was defined on three sides by massive buildings that could be for storage. On the fourth side rose a smaller temple-like with a graceful cupola, obviously headquarters and meeting house. On its lowest step were ranked half a dozen blue-robed men, five of them husky youths. The sixth was middle-aged, the Yang and Yin on his breast. His features, ordinary in themselves, held an implacable calm.
Mackenzie and Speyer drew rein. The colonel flipped a soft salute. “Philosopher Gaines? I'm Mackenzie, here's Major Speyer.” He swore at himself for being so awkward about it and wondered what to do with his hands. The young fellows he understood, more or less; they watched him with badly concealed hostility. But he had some trouble meeting Gaines eyes.
The settlement leader inclined his head. “Welcome, gentlemen. Won't you come in?”
Mackenzie dismounted, hitched his horse to a post and removed his helmet. His worn reddish-brown uniform felt shabbier yet in these surroundings. “Thanks. Uh, I'll have to make this quick.”
“To be sure. Follow me, please.”
Stiff-backed, the young men trailed after their elders, through an entry chamber and down a short hall. Speyer looked around at the mosaics. “Why, this is lovely,” he murmured.
“Thank you,” said Gaines. “Here's my office.” He opened a door of superbly grained walnut and gestured the visitors through. When he closed it behind himself, the acolytes waited outside.
The room was austere, whitewashed walls enclosing little more than a desk, a shelf of books, and some backless chairs. A window opened on a garden. Gaines sat down. Mackenzie and Speyer followed suit, uncomfortable on this furniture.
“We'd better get right to business,” the colonel blurted. Gaines said nothing. At last Mackenzie must plow ahead:
“Here's the situation.. Our force is to occupy Calistoga, with detachments on either side of the hills. That way we'll control both the Napa Valley and the Valley of the Moon, from the northern ends, at least. The best place to station our eastern wing is here. We plan to establish a fortified camp in the field yonder. I'm sorry about the damage to your crops, but you'll be compensated once the proper government has been restored. And food, medicine—you understand this army has to requisition such items, but we won't let anybody suffer undue hardship and we'll give receipts. Uh, as a precaution we'll need to quarter a few men in this community, to sort of keep an eye on things. They'll interfere as little as possible. Okay?”
“The charter, of the Order guarantees exemption from military requirements,” Gaines answered evenly. “In fact, no armed man is supposed to cross the boundary of any land by an Esper settlement. I cannot be a party to a violation of the law, Colonel.”
“If you want to split legal hairs, Philosopher,” Speyer said, “then I'll remind you that both Fallon and Judge Brodsky have declared martial law. Ordinary rules are suspended.”
Gaines smiled. “Since only one government can be legitmate,” he said, “the proclamations of the other are necessarily null and void. To a disinterested observer, it would appear that Judge Fallon's title is the stronger, especially when his side controls a large continuous area rather some scattered bossdoms.”
“Not any more, it doesn't,” Mackenzie snapped.
Speyer gestured him back. “Perhaps you haven't followed the developments of the last few weeks, Philosopher,” he said. “Allow me to recapitulate. The Sierra Command stole a march on the Fallonites and came down out of the mountains. There was almost nothing left in the middle part of California to oppose us, so we took over rapidiy. By occupying Sacramento, we control river and rail traffic. Our bases extend south below Bakersfield, with Yosemite and Kink's Canyon not far away to provide sites for extremely strong positions. When we've consolidated this northern end of our gains, the Fallonite forces around Redding will be trap between us and the powerful bossmen who still hold out in the Trinity, Shasta, and Lassen regions. The very fact of our being here has forced the enemy to evacuate the Columbia Valley, so that San Francisco may be defended. It's an open question which side today has the last word in larger territory.”
“What about the army that went into the Sierra against you?” Gaines inquired shrewdly. “Have you contained them?”
Mackenzie scowled. “No. That's no secret. They got through the Mother Lode country and went around us. They're down in Los Angeles and San Diego now.”
“A formidable host. Do you expect to stand them off definitely?”
“We're going to make a hell of a good try,” Mackenzie said. “Where we are, we've got the advantage of interior communications. And most of the freeholders are glad to slip us word about whatever they observe. We can concentrate at any point the enemy starts to attack.”
“Pity that this rich land, must also be torn apart by war.”
“Yeah. Isn't it?”
“Our strategic objective is obvious enough,” Speyer said. “We have cut enemy communications across the middle, except by sea, which is not very satisfactory for troops operating this far inland. We deny him access to a good part of his food and manufactured supplies, and most especially to the bulk of his fuel alcohol. The backbone of our own side is the bossdoms, which are almost self-contained economic and social units. Before long they'll be in better shape than the foodless army they face. I think Judge Brodsky will be back in San Francisco before fall.”
