“People can’t help what color they’re born with, Katrina.”
“That is certainly true, at this time. But we can change all that, our leaders say. And when we do, the world will be a better place to live.”
“Katrina.”
“Most call me Kat. That’s with a K.”
“All right, Kat. Why are you telling me all this?”
They had come to a small wooded area, just off campus. They sat down on a bench by a broken walkway.
Kat was deep in thought and silence for a few moments. Roy did not attempt to break into her reverie.
“What do you know about Iceland, Roy?”
“Very little.”
“Icelanders are-were-great readers. They loved literature. When I was younger, I found a huge wooden box of books in the basement of the home where I lived.”
“With your parents?”
“No. I don’t even know who my parents are. I don’t know whether I was born in Russia or Iceland. I am just here. That is all many of us were told. That is the way. Parents are not important after the birthing. Children are kept in special places called communes until they are six years of age. During that time they
are taught, beginning at an early age. After intelligence is tested and determined, the child is placed in a home-setting appropriate to the intelligence of child and male and female sponsor. The environment is tightly controlled. One is trained to do one thing and that is what that person will do. That, forever.
“But I was talking about books. I never knew there were so many different books. Our reading is selected for us-we have no choice in the matter. But these books … oh my, they were wonderful. They were about everything. Life and love and mystery and adventure and romance and, oh, just about everything!
“I had never seen anything like it, and I knew because I had never seen them before that the books were forbidden. I said nothing about them, for in our society you never know who will report you to the committee for some infraction of the rules.”
“The committee?”
“Each street in all cities have committee persons living on it. One or two people. No one ever knows exactly how many. You don’t have them?”
“No!” Roy was both horrified and fascinated.
“Then how do you keep order?”
“By rules, Kat. We all know the rules and we obey them.”
“But what happens if you don’t obey the rules?”
“If you get caught you get punished.” “If “you get caught?”
“That’s right.”
“That seems a rather lax way of doing things.”
“Freedom requires some degree of looseness, Kat.”
“You are free?”
“Oh yes.”
“You can do whatever you like?”
“Within reason.”
“Who sets the reason?”
“Common sense.”
“That must be interesting. Anyway, I found about a dozen books-paperbacks-by a writer named Ben Raines.”
Roy smiled.
“Did I say something amusing?”
“No, Kat. Go on.”
She looked at him strangely. “This writer, of the same name as your general, he wrote of many things, of monsters and werewolves and fighting men-the only true heroes-and love and honor and, oh, everything! One person did all that. That is not permitted in our society.”
“I don’t understand, Kat.”
“One person is designated to write of one specific subject, be it history, philosophy, whatever. He will devote his life to that subject matter and nothing else.”
“Kat, that sounds awfully boring to me.”
She sighed. “I… feel the same way, Roy.”
“You’re not happy with your life, are you, Kat?”
“Happy is unimportant. It is the state that matters.”
“But you don’t believe that anymore, do you, Kat?”
She put her head on his shoulder and began to weep.
Roy didn’t know what to do.
CHAPTER FOUR
“They should have been back by now,” Ben said to Colonel Gray. “You told them to return in two days, right, Dan?”
“Affirmative, General. And not to take any chances. They should have been back by last night.”
“Mount up,” Ben said. “Well just leave the civilians outside the campus and just roll right in-face these people. That might be the one way to make the kids come to their senses.”
“And it might backfire, General.”
“There is that to consider, too, Dan. But I’m not going to toss Judy and Roy to the wolves without a fight. Or to the bears, as the case may be. Just to be on the safe side, Dan, when we get to the outskirts of the campus, you take a team and infiltrate the buildings, give me a backup.”
“Will do, General.”
They were on the outskirts of Rolla two hours later, with Ben trying to convince the new members it would be in their best interest to stay clear of the college
area. None of them bought his plan, especially Gale. She puffed up, stuck out her chin and marched up to Ben.
Ben braced for a confrontation.
“Mr. President, General-whatever. Are you trying to dump us?”
“Ms. Roth,” Ben said patiently. “I have a great many things on my mind right now, and you are not making any of them any easier to resolve with your stupid goddamn questions?”
“I only asked one.”
Ben looked toward the sky as if seeking some advice from a higher power.
Gale shifted the kid from left to right hip. Ben still didn’t know the kid’s name. Woman and baby glared at him.
It must be contagious, Ben thought.
“Ms. Roth, I have absolutely no intention of leaving anyone behind. But if matters deteriorate to the point where fast, violent action is the only way left us, I do not want a bunch of helpless civilians mucking about, getting in the way, hollering and bawling and being what they are: useless in any type of fire-fight. Now, Ms. Roth, is that perfectly clear?”
“It sure is. We’re going with you.” She turned to leave.
“Your ass, baby,” Ben said.
Gale spun around, off balance with the child perched on one hip. She almost fell. Ben caught her.
She jerked away from his hands and said, “Don’t call me baby!”
“OK, honey.”
She glared at him then walked off, muttering about
sexism still prevailing among men who should know better. But, she concluded, just loud enough for Ben to hear, anyone who wrote shtup books for a living couldn’t be anything but a sexist. And a male chauvinist pig, too. And other things that a lady should never even think, much less mention aloud. In public.
Ben laughed at her. “Are you any relation to Gloria Steinem?”
“I wish,” she called over her shoulder. “Were you any relation to Hilton Logan?”
“Bite your tongue!”
Ben grinned, thinking: Things sure had gotten livelier since she joined the parade.
Over the loud and sometimes heated protests of his people, Ben went into the campus alone, ordering his Rebels to dismount and prepare for a fire-fight, but hoping it would not come to that. Yet. Colonel Gray had his orders and, with a carefully selected team, quietly set about carrying them out.
Ben walked slowly up the weed-grown and cracked drive of the long-deserted college, toward a group of young men and women gathered in front of a building. They fell silent at his approach.
“President Raines,” someone muttered.
“Aw, come on. No way,” another young person said.
“Yeah, ain’t no way he’d be here.”
“That’s General Raines,” a young woman said, her eyes on the tall figure walking toward them. “Believe it.”
“Wonder what he wants with us?”
Some of the young people began backing away, to
the left and right. Ben’s reputation of shooting first and asking questions later had preceded him.