43

What are the limits of human endurance?
Sometimes I think my mission in life is to find out.

—Mord Pelley, to his tribe

PREVIOUSLY, JOSS STUART had only heard rumors about this alternative way of living, a realm he had not been certain actually existed. Just the same, he had occasionally imagined what it might be like to be in the wilderness all the time, how different it would be from the confines and strict rules of the reservations for humans, and from his life on a J-Mac crew. But in the end he always came back to the same conclusion, that it wasn’t suitable to him.

Now, faced with the reality of the alternative domain, he would have a chance to find out for sure. He didn’t seem to have any better choices.

“This is the real green life,” Mord Pelley said. “Unlike anything you’ve experienced before.”

“I can see that,” Joss said, as he and Kupi followed the elderly man through a compound of simple lean-to structures and tree houses that were accessible by primitive stairs, rope ladders, and rope baskets. There were even rough-hewn rock stairways leading down to underground habitats, storage chambers, and worship rooms, with covered entrances topside. It looked as if everyone in the settlement had come out to see the newcomers, young and old alike. He noted a handful of children playing games, and dogs that walked the perimeter of the compound, as if on guard duty.

After racking his brain, Joss suddenly remembered where he’d heard the name Mord Pelley. The man was a notorious eco-criminal, a wanted fugitive who had disappeared nine or ten years ago. Joss caught his breath. In his earlier career as an eco-cop, he had busted people like him for violating the morals and sacred-Earth principles of the GSA. This man had been a trusted contributor to the Green Revolution, before running afoul of the Chairman.

Pelley led the way to a pair of open-air structures, lean-tos made of tied-together branches and cedar-bough roofs, with pine-needle floors. “We built these for you when we heard you were coming. It will be your obligation to contribute to the work of constructing future habitats, and to perform other tasks that are necessary for the continued existence of our community. Later, if you prefer to live underground you can, but most people like it topside, especially when they first arrive.”

Joss and Kupi nodded. Then she said, “As I told you in my message, my companion has special talents.”

“Yes,” Pelley said, looking at Joss. “I had already received some information on you from other sources. It is most interesting to meet you in the flesh.”

“And you,” Joss said, without revealing what he knew about the fugitive. He noticed people coming in for a closer look. For a moment he caught the gaze of an exceptionally attractive young brunette as she pushed her way past other tribal members.

“Joss’s ability to greenform without equipment could be used for gardens,” Kupi suggested, “or for other plants you might need around here.” She looked at Joss. “Could you create vegetable gardens?”

“Maybe,” Joss said. “I haven’t tried yet.”

“It’s too late in the season,” Pelley said.

“I forgot about that,” Kupi said.

The old man looked at the sky, turning his dark eyes heavenward. “The weather is turning colder at night, though the days are still warm. We’re expecting a storm system soon, and lots of rain.” He pointed at men digging a drainage ditch around the settlement. “In addition to the old standby of holding our fingers up to the wind, we have developed alternative methods of predicting weather, based on patterns of plant growth as well as animal and bird behavior.”

“Is the electronic veil your most advanced use of technology?” Joss asked. He still heard the buzzing of the veiling transponders, but was getting used to it, beginning to tune it out of his consciousness.

“Maybe,” Pelley said, “and maybe not. We have a few gadgets for this and that, depending on our needs and priorities.”

Kneeling to look into his own lean-to, Joss estimated it was around four by two meters, and saw that it had a floor of evergreen needles. The enclosure was barely large enough for him to sleep in, and had no amenities. It didn’t even have a mat. Despite the primitive living conditions he felt an odd sense of relief, and very little of the apprehension he had experienced when he and Kupi decided to flee into the wilderness.

“Not very fancy, is it?” Joss turned at the sound of a woman’s voice. It was the attractive brunette. Perhaps twenty-five years of age, she had shoulder-length hair and hazel eyes. She wore a dark blue parka open at the front, revealing a heavy shirt that curved over her smallish bosom, with the tails tucked into her trousers. Her clothing was typical of her companions, warm and practical.

“It will do,” Joss said.

“I’m Evana Popal,” she said, with a smile. “Everyone already knows who you are.”

He frowned. “Popal?”

“I’m one of the Chairman’s daughters,” she said, with a shrug. “It’s really not a big deal. He has hundreds of children; some say there are more than a thousand of us.”

“I see.” Joss noticed that Kupi was looking on, her face a mixture of sadness and acceptance.

“Did you grow up on the Montana Valley Game Reserve?” Kupi asked.

Evana shook her head. “No, I’m one of the others, scattered around the Green States. I think I was born in Baltimore, before it became a human reservation and a GSA military base. But I’ve never been sure. My mother was always sky-high on dope. It was a friend of hers who told me who I was.” She nodded toward Mord Pelley. “Later, this man adopted me as his daughter.”

Looking at the tribal leader, Joss said, “Mr. Pelley, I recognize your name because I used to be an eco-cop.”

“I was a bad person,” he said with a hard smile, “advocating individual property rights, trying to protect my land against green Communists who wanted to take it away from me and use it for their own purposes. What a nerve I had, trying to keep them from trampling over what I’d worked for all my life.”

“And they got your property anyway.”

He nodded somberly. “I had three thousand acres in West Texas near Palo Duro Canyon, the prettiest ranchland you ever saw, right on a fork of the Red River. I worked hard for that spread, as my father and grandfather did before me. I hoped to pass it on to my son, Barret, but the commies brainwashed him, turned him against me. Then they rezoned my land for green manufacturing, and under an aggressive GSA law of eminent domain they offered to pay me a pittance for it. I shot and killed three government agents when they served a notice on me, and I’ve been a fugitive ever since.”

“You’re the one who came up with the word ‘greenatics,’ aren’t you?” Joss said.

“My term for rabid environmentalists,” Mord said, nodding. “Like Kupi here, I have been noted for my government criticisms, such as my observation that the government is a spoils system for revolutionaries who are either not qualified for their high-level jobs or are profiting unfairly, at the expense of others.”

“You’re also known for hunting deer, elk, bear, and other animals, leaving their carcasses where the authorities will find them,” Joss said.

“Yes, for that too,” he said. “I was a businessman when the GSA took over. I had a corporation, but I was not a bad ‘Corporate’ at all. I gave my ranch hands stock ownership plans, medical and retirement benefits, generous perks. Hell, they even swam in my pool. But the GSA lumped my company and others like it in with the onerous, greedy corporations and Wall Street manipulators, sweeping us aside so that they could replace us with their own green industries, their own cronies and payoff systems. You’ve said similar things yourself, Kupi.” He patted her on the shoulder.

“But I don’t leave animal carcasses around.”

The old man smiled ruefully.

“It seems that we all have interesting pasts,” Kupi said.

“And all of us opted out of the system,” Mord said. “There are many people like us living in these forests and other remote places, people who don’t care for GSA politics, the Berkeley Eight, the Chairman, or any of it. We just want to lead simple lives, away from all the pressures, the injustices, the bureaucratic intrusions.” He waved an arm, indicating the forest around them. “My American dream used to be a ranch. Now it’s this.”

“Sounds like exactly what I need,” Joss said, “as long as I’m not asked to perform any tricks.”