Pandora's Genes (12 page)

He quickly estimated the number of young men recently conscripted and the greatest number that could be trained in the next few months. While he worked on increasing his army, small scouting expeditions could begin to investigate more fully the reported trouble in the southwest. For now, however, the important question was the most efficient use of the trained troops already in the Capital; his generals, he knew, would have sharply opposing ideas, so, as always, he would work out the best solution with Zach before the meeting. . . .

Only Zach was not here.

For a moment the Principal felt cheated and helpless, like a young child who cannot get an answer to an urgent question. In spite of his temper, he was on good terms with all his close aides, but to all of them he was above all the Principal, looked on with respect and awe – to all of them but one.

The meeting with the generals did not go well.

He had opened with the news of Zach’s disappearance. The expressions of shock and regret were not faked; Zach was well loved, and all his men knew how greatly the Principal depended on him, but he saw looks of disapproval too. Even though Zach’s mission had not been made public, it was common knowledge that on this one occasion the Principal had not trusted his regular procurers but had sent Zach instead.

General Ralf then told of his encounter with the refugees and the Traders. As the Principal expected, the two youngest generals, Daniel and Eric, scoffed at the idea of any outlaws overcoming trained, professionally led soldiers.

“You haven’t seen these Traders,” Ralf said angrily, beginning to stutter. “Th-they care nothing for life. It will take all our t-troops and more to subdue them if they have an army.”

Daniel, who had been with the Principal since he was a boy, spoke slowly and with the customary self-assurance which sometimes approached arrogance. “Perhaps, then, it’s time for the older generals to retire and leave fighting to men who are not afraid of any number of outlaws.”

Ralf rose to his feet, his mouth working in rage.

“Sit down, and shut up, both of you!” snapped the Principal. “Whoever these Traders are, they must be stopped. And we won’t stop anyone if we’re fighting among ourselves!”

Still glaring at each other, the two men sat, Ralf muttering to himself.

Once again the Principal missed Zach and his calming influence. No matter what the dispute, Zach seemed always able to find a solution which satisfied everyone.

In the end it was decided to send two small but well-armed parties under Daniel and Eric; the men under Daniel were to investigate the southwestern border area, while the others would scout around the Northern Ford, then move southwest and join Daniel’s contingent. The evidence of the woman’s comb indicted that Zach had reached the girl’s home, but the Principal wanted to make certain, so he assigned Red, a quiet, reliable man of Zach’s age, to lead a third party in retracing Zach’s route to the northern mountains. The Principal did not give in to the temptation to order the purchase of the girl if by chance she were still there; that would have to wait until the current difficulties had been resolved.

Ralf and Quentin, his oldest and most experienced generals, and Marcus, who was in charge of peacekeeping troops in the Capital, would remain here and help train new men.

After the meeting, as the Principal began working out the details, he finally started to relax. He found he was able to think for minutes at a time without the thought of Zach’s disappearance coming into his consciousness.

One thing further remained to be done, which he had not mentioned in the meeting. It involved a secret contingency plan known only to himself and Zach. He had longed to put it into action for years; the news of the trouble in the southwest might prove at last to be the excuse he had needed.

Telling only Robin that he was leaving, but not why, the Principal would make the short journey himself, to the isolated peninsula just to the south and east of the Capital.

Though the Principal was striking-looking among men, few of his subjects would recognize him. As insurance he would wear a false beard. Most men in the District did not shave; a clean face was another relic of civilization which he affected himself and encouraged among his men. Of his closest advisers, only Zach and Ralf did not follow this custom.

The Principal set out in early morning, on the best mount in his stables, his mind at rest for the first time since he had learned that Zach was missing. He knew that in some ways what he was doing was foolish and even dangerous, that he ought to take at least one or two men with him. But he felt a need for time to think, alone.

Also, though he did not like to admit it to himself, he had felt for some time a restlessness building in him, an irritability which was a sign of the compulsion which overtook him from time to time. The failure of Zach’s mission meant that he would not find release soon, but physical action might serve to quiet him. The compulsion was something he had long ago given up hope of controlling, and his position as Principal had made it easy for him to indulge it. He was certain, from his reading, that this was not common in civilized men, and thought that it was perhaps due to a wild deena.

He also knew that any obsession, continued unchecked, could topple an empire no less surely than a revolution or a coup.

He rode hard into the late morning, enjoying the clean air and the moist fragrance of the forest. His face under the false beard itched, but the idea of traveling incognito was exhilarating, as if the responsibilities of his position had disappeared with the recognition of his face. It was easy to let himself slip back in imagination to the days when he had been an outlaw, champion of the people suffering under the President’s despotic, chaotic rule. It was during the last days of that struggle, in fact, when he and Zach, fleeing the President’s private police, had stumbled through the forest upon the remains of a great old estate hidden by wild and choking vegetation at the tip of a small peninsula outside the Capital. They had rested there for over a week, waiting for their wounds to heal before rejoining Ralf, Red, and the other men in the tunnels leading to the city, preparing for the final assault. In some ways, those days had been the best of his life, when his destiny lay before him and everything still seemed possible.

During that time he and Zach had planned together the structure of the government they would build, setting priorities for establishment of sanitation, security, education. Neither of them had ever doubted (or at least had not admitted to doubt) that they would indeed defeat the much-despised President, a man who had seen the chaos of the world after the Change only as an opportunity to grab personal power. The Principal had always had in his head a grand outline of what he wanted to accomplish; it was Zach, as always, who methodically worked out the details. It was Zach too who had suggested possible future uses for the estate. Several times since, the two men had traveled there, making certain that the buildings remained sealed and that no one had taken up residence.

By early afternoon the Principal had reached his destination and saw that nobody had disturbed anything since his last visit. With satisfaction, he surveyed the ancient house, a solid stone structure of three stories, showing the impeccable, machine-aided workmanship common before the Change. In addition to the great house, there were several smaller outbuildings and a large orchard, much overrun with weeds, but luxurious with healthy, fruit-bearing trees. All the buildings were in disrepair, but still intact, and it would not take a team of builders long to make them habitable again. Surrounding the entire compound was a solid stone wall; again, most of it was of pre-Change workmanship and most of it still stood.

A freshwater stream leading to the bay would provide adequate water; most important of all was the remote location of the compound. There was no sign that it had been visited for more than a short period by anyone in all the years since the Principal had discovered it.

Satisfied, the Principal sat by the stream and had a meal of the dried meat he had brought with him, then began to ride back to the Capital. He had intended to arrive well before nightfall, but his mount’s sluggish behavior indicated he had stayed at the estate too long and it was growing late. This was not a well-populated area, but he had seen signs of some dwellings on the trip here, and he began to look for the telltale smoke that would indicate a cabin where he could ask for lodging.

Presently a narrow but well-worn path took him into a large yard, planted lushly with vegetables and fruit trees. Beyond the gardens was a small cabin with smoke just beginning to curl toward the sky. From the looks of it, this would house a typical family: two or more husbands, a wife, and several boy-children. As the Principal rode into the yard, a small figure stepped through the door of the cabin, intent on some errand. The figure suddenly stopped, then straightened and put up a hand for shade, watching him approach ahead of the falling sun.

As the Principal drew near he saw that it was a young girl, with thick, pale hair tied in braids. She was not beautiful, but there was a freshness and openness about her. He felt his stomach clench and kept his voice steady as he spoke:

“Good day. Does your family have room for a lodger for the night?”

“I can’t say,” she said uncertainly.

“I have metal,” said the Principal. “If you’ll send your fathers out I’ll settle with them.”

“They’re not here right now,” she said, sounding nervous. Quickly she added, “I expect them any minute. They’ve been out hunting.”

She glanced toward the cabin door, and from her manner the Principal suspected that her fathers would not be returning soon. He felt almost dizzy at this realization and told himself to go on quickly, to find another place to lodge, away from the girl. But suddenly she spoke again, her voice surprised.

“You’re the Principal.”

At first he could think of no reply. He had not expected to be recognized so easily, and certainly not by a child.

After a moment he laughed. “I’m flattered that you think so, but in truth I’m one of his soldiers.”

“I know who you are,” she said with some intensity. “Last year, my first-father took me to the Capital to hear him – you – speak. I remember your eyes, as black as the bottom of a well. You’ve grown a beard, but I recognize you.”

The Principal felt something growing in him and, remembering how he had been feeling lately, decided to move on immediately. It was not too late to find another dwelling, or if it came to that, he would sleep in the open, under his cloak. “I don’t have time to play games,” he said. “It’s growing late.” He turned his mount and was on the point of moving out of the little yard when the girl spoke again:

“Wait!”

He turned his mount and halted.

“I didn’t mean you couldn’t stay here – it would be an honor.”

“Not without your fathers’ permission,” he said. “They might come back and decide to turn me out.”

“They won’t be back till tomorrow,” she said. “And they would be honored too.”

The Principal took a deep breath and considered. Clearly this girl knew him, and she seemed to be infatuated with him. Given that, and that her fathers were gone, and given his own rising compulsion, he knew fully what the outcome would be if he stayed here. But she was willing, although she didn’t know what she was getting into, and he was tired, and lonely, and suddenly he knew that he would stay, and the consequences go to the deenas.

“Very well,” he said, returning to the doorway. He dismounted. “You are a very observant girl to have recognized me.” He pulled off the false beard.

The girl looked at him, blinking, then sank to her knees.

“Great deena, don’t do that!” he said. “It’s barbaric.”

She scrambled to her feet, then looked at the ground.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Lina,” she said.

“How old are you?”

“Thirteen.”

“Listen to me, then. I would like nothing more than to stay here tonight. But you don’t know me, even though I am the Principal, and it might be dangerous for you. I’m giving you a chance now to send me on my way. You may have heard my reputation, that I am not gentle with girls.”

“I only offer you food and lodging,” said Lina.

“That will not be enough.”

She looked into his face then, her eyes widening with fear and something more. Her lips parted but she didn’t speak.

The Principal thought for a moment, then went on. “This has never happened before in this way. At least not since I took over the District. I have a very difficult job, Lina, and I work hard – harder, probably, than any other man in the District. When necessary I fight, and my life is always at risk. I have few friends, and very few forms of relaxation.” The girl continued to gaze at him. He could not guess if she was understanding him or not. He continued: “It’s known that I do not have a wife, that I do not travel with or keep women. Neither, however, do I keep boys. From time to time . . . I require release. I require girls like yourself, young and unspoiled. . . . You have not had a lover?” he suddenly demanded.

“No,” she said in a whisper.

“Well, then. If your fathers were here, I would give them money for you. A fair bargain: value given for value. And tomorrow I would take you to the city, and keep you with me for a time. A day, a week, perhaps a month or more. During that time you would grow to hate me, because I would hurt you, in ways that you can’t imagine. When the time was over, I would see that you had a husband, or husbands, or were safely in a house of women for hire, if that is what you wanted. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

“Yes,” she said. Her expression had not changed. The Principal could scarcely breathe. Once again he thought that he must ride away, quickly, before he made a mistake that might jeopardize his mission and perhaps his entire empire.

But he couldn’t make himself move and knew that all would depend on what she said next.

She repeated, “My fathers are not here.”

“And your mother?”

“She died of the woman sickness last summer. I’m alone.”