Pandora's Genes (19 page)

T
HE TREK TO THE NORTHEAST
would take several weeks. The weather held, but the number of men and women and supplies was vast: often streams must be followed several miles off route to find shallow spots for fording; each night elaborate camps had to be set up and then struck in the morning. As they had at the Garden, the Principal’s men set up camp near, but strictly away from, the women’s camp.

Evvy was traveling with the Mistress, in a large covered wagon pulled by mounts and containing most of the Garden’s carefully packed and hidden scientific instruments: microscopes, glass tubes and slides, tiny sharp knives for drawing blood.

Evvy continued to study as they moved and found that her facility for reading and understanding increased as quickly as her fascination with the things she was learning. The Mistress insisted that Evvy spend more time on mathematics, but that did not interest her so much as history, and particularly the history of science as it had been before the Change.

She read about the Belgian monk, Mendel, and his experiments with beans, and about Darwin and his journey to the Galapagos. Quickly all that she had heard in the initiation rite became clear and real to her. No longer was DNA rampaging, invisible creatures – the “wild deenas” – but rather a part of the normal genetic makeup of all living beings. Until the Change, pairings of plants or animals always yielded predictable results; however, the experimental genetic material that had escaped during the Change behaved like viruses, entering the cells of plants and animals, becoming a part of their living genetic mechanism, and changing them in ways that could not be predicted. Evvy learned that these changed creatures, called mutations, were still being created, although not at so rapid a rate as just after the Change. She talked with Hilda about the problems of growing new-grain, which was wildly mutant and unstable. Because most natural wild-grain stocks had been allowed to die out in the time before the Change, it was difficult to create, with crosses, hardy, disease-resistant plants that would breed true.

The possibilities for scientific work seemed limitless, and Evvy could scarcely wait to arrive at the new Garden and begin. She thought she might try to mate Baby and raise tame fox-cats, crossing them for empathic ability. Or perhaps she would be allowed to work on the project to combat the woman sickness.

Without further urging, Evvy redoubled her efforts at learning mathematics, and was suddenly grateful for this long journey which gave her the leisure to read and learn for hours each day.

Because the caravan was so large, and because she was so busy with her studies, Evvy did not see the Principal again until they had been on the road for nearly two weeks.

She was sitting in the Mistress’s wagon, looking out at the twilight, sleepy and full from a good meal of new-rabbit stew, when there was a knocking on the wooden side of the wagon, and the Principal stuck his head just inside.

“Hello? Is the Mistress in?”

Evvy gasped, startled. His pale face seemed to float in the darkness. He squinted, trying to see inside the wagon. Evvy wriggled farther back among the crates and barrels and murmured, “She isn’t here now. She’s gone to witness a birth.”

“Who’s there?” He frowned slightly, then smiled, in a sunny, wholehearted way. “It’s Evvy, isn’t it? I haven’t seen you in quite a while. Don’t be shy. Come out and talk to me.”

Evvy crawled toward the front of the wagon and sat as far from him as she could.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said.

He lit a pipe of new-smoke and, leaning against the wagon, gazed at the fire. Just as at the party, Evvy couldn’t think of anything to say, and wondered if he expected her to speak. After a moment he spoke conversationally, as if they had been talking all day. “I know that most of my subjects are afraid of me; and it’s right, they should be. A leader should be strong enough to command respect and obedience.”

Evvy thought a moment, remembering her recent reading, then asked, “How did you get to be the Principal?”

He turned from the fire and looked at her. “That’s a long, long story. I’ll tell you about it sometime.”

“Were you elected?”

He laughed. “No. Elections wouldn’t work in the sort of world we have today, I’m afraid. Have you been studying history, then?”

She nodded, embarrassed. She felt hopelessly ignorant.

“Then you must know that the most important force in any society is its laws. Without laws, humans cannot live together. And without a strong authority to enforce those laws, they might as well not exist.”

“Who makes the laws?”

“In the District, I do. I base them on the ideas that worked in the past and seeing what works in the present. That’s the whole point – to make things work.”

“Do you obey your own laws?”

He laughed again, without humor. “I think you’ve been listening to tales about me. Yes, I do obey the laws. Perhaps more strictly than anyone.”

“Then why—” she began, then stopped.

“Why what? Go on, you can ask me. Pretend that I’m not the Principal for a moment.” He smiled at her again, his face relaxed and boyish. She couldn’t help smiling back. “Well?” he said when she still hadn’t spoken.

“Why are the laws so harsh?” she finally said.

“These are harsh times,” said the Principal. “You’re thinking of the beating I gave one of my men yesterday, aren’t you?”

Evvy nodded. It had been just after breakfast. The women were pulling up their tents and packing their possessions on mounts and in wagons when the morning silence had suddenly been shattered by a heart-stopping scream, followed by another. Then silence, and all had stopped work and looked at one another in fear. After a moment, Katha had strode into the center of the women’s camp and announced with disgust that the Principal was punishing one of his men for disobedience. Remembering the anguish in that scream, Evvy again felt a chill.

“That man had done something which could endanger all of us,” the Principal said. “The night before he had gotten drunk and fell asleep on guard duty. He wasn’t the only guard, but the job was his responsibility, and he didn’t do it. The only way I can make my people understand how important laws are is to deal severely with those who break them. I wish that weren’t so, but it seems it’s been the problem of civilizations ever since the world began. I’m sorry it had to happen,” he added, and Evvy believed him.

“Couldn’t you just have taken away his pay?”

“That would not be visible enough. The idea was not so much to make him suffer as to make sure the other men saw him suffer, so they would think twice before doing such a thing.”

“But there was no harm done.”

“That’s true – this time. Listen to me. I’m responsible for keeping all of you safe. As my guard, that man is an extension of me. I must be able to trust him as I would myself. Those who betray a trust are dealt with more harshly than those who are just ignorant.”

He spoke with such intensity that Evvy held her breath. No wonder Zach had hesitated to cross this man. She wondered what the Principal would have done to Zach if he had learned of Zach’s betrayal.

“Do you understand what I’ve been telling you?” the Principal asked.

“I suppose so,” said Evvy. “But so many of your laws seem unfair.”

“Which laws?”

“I’m sorry. I think I’ve said enough.”

“Remember, I invited you to speak. What sort of leader would I be if I refused to listen to my people?”

Evvy knew from her readings in history that a great many leaders in the past had indeed refused to listen to their subjects. In some ways she was finding it as easy now to talk to the Principal as to the Mistress, or to Lucky, so she went on, “Why do you take such heavy taxes?”

“I wish I didn’t have to, but there is limited wealth. I must pay the men who work for me – that is, who work for the people of the District. I pay the men who build roads, who patrol remote areas and fight outlaws. I pay the men in my army, and the judges. I must also pay for supplies, and food, to support all these men.”

“But your tax men take so much. My second-father had to give up all his metal and nearly half his grain three years ago.”

“That’s wrong!” said the Principal suddenly. “No citizen should ever have to pay so much. Where was this?”

“It was—” Evvy suddenly stopped, realizing how much she had nearly given away.

His voice was cold with anger as he went on. “They must have been keeping some for themselves. Do you know these men’s names? Can you describe them?”

“No,” said Evvy quickly. “I was living with my grandfather then. I didn’t see anyone, I just heard about it.”

“Perhaps your father exaggerated?”

“I remember we nearly starved that winter.”

“I thought you said you were living with your grandfather—” The Principal’s eyes suddenly narrowed and he looked at her closely. “Where are you from, Evvy?”

He knew. Evvy was certain that he knew. But she had to answer. “From . . . near the Garden,” she said. She added quickly, “I came to the Garden because my father couldn’t afford to feed all of us.”

“Why didn’t you stay with your grandfather?”

“He died,” she said. It was difficult to keep lying, and Evvy was afraid her voice would begin shaking.

“How did you hear of the Garden?”

“From my second-father. He . . . he used to trade with them.”

“What does your second-father do?”

“He’s a . . . trapper.”

“I would like to speak to him or have my men speak to him. I must find out who those tax men are.”

He was looking directly at her. Evvy knew that if she met his eyes she would blurt the truth. All was now lost. The Principal knew who she was; he would claim her and take her away from the Garden. Worst of all, he would find out about Zach’s betrayal. Her eyes filled with tears. After all this time, Zach’s sacrifice had been for nothing. And then she had an inspiration. Turning to the Principal, no longer trying to fight the tears, she said; “He’s dead.”

“Who’s dead?”

“My second-father. Outlaws killed him. They killed everyone. I buried him and my brothers and then ran away.”

The Principal scrutinized her. She held her breath, praying he would believe her. He frowned and was about to speak again when the Mistress approached, leaning heavily on a cane. She looked tired and pleased, “Dori has had her baby,” she said. “It was her third girl.”

Neither Evvy nor the Principal answered, and the old woman looked puzzled. “Well? Her third girl?”

The Principal turned to her and spoke heartily, though his face was grim. “That’s a real accomplishment, old woman. Congratulations.”

“We’re still not sure . . .” she trailed off, suddenly realizing how strained the mood was. “What are you doing here?” she asked him in a scolding tone.

“I need to speak to you. I’ve been whiling away the time with your friend Evvy.”

The Mistress gave him a sharp look, then turned to Evvy. “Go in and sleep, child. I have business with the Principal.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Evvy. She felt the Principal’s eyes on her as she crept into the wagon. After a moment she peered through a slit in the side paneling. The Principal and the old woman had moved over by the fire, where they sat. While they busied themselves dipping herb tea from the steaming pot, Evvy slipped out the front of the wagon and circled to behind a tree where the two were sitting. She held very still and began to listen.

“I am leaving the caravan tomorrow to return to the Capital,” the Principal was telling the Mistress. “General Daniel will be in charge. I’ve told him that he must discuss any major decisions with you.”

“Katha is mayor of the Garden,” said the Mistress.

“I’m aware of that. But as far as I’m concerned, you are the leader and always will be. Katha is a stubborn fool.” He went on before she could comment. “I’ll visit when you have reached the site of the new Garden. I hope to learn more about your work now that you will be nearby.”

The Mistress nodded. “I or any of my scientists will tell you what you want to know.”

They sipped at their tea, then the Principal said, almost sadly, “I miss it sometimes.”

“You decided long ago that your destiny is elsewhere,” said the Mistress.

“Yes . . . I suppose my life couldn’t have been otherwise with the training I had,” he said. “Don’t think I’m not aware of that. Or not grateful for all I learned in the Garden.”

“You have become a good leader, Will.”

“Thank you,” he said.

Evvy was astonished as she watched, holding her breath. It was evidently a moment of deep emotion for both; she could not even guess at what it meant. The Principal squeezed the old woman’s frail hand for a moment, then awkwardly let it go and turned to watch the fire. The flames illuminated both faces, and Evvy realized how much they both reminded her of Zach: the old woman’s light coloring and blue eyes, the Principal’s sharp cheekbones and thin lips. Though he was a much smaller man, the resemblance was striking when you looked at it. Suddenly Evvy realized what she should have known before, that the Principal was Zach’s brother, the Mistress’s other son who had gone away twenty years ago and never came back.

Feeling ashamed of herself for intruding on their privacy, Evvy began to work her way back to the wagon. Then the Principal spoke again.

“Tell me something,” he said casually. “The girl Evvy – where is she from?” Evvy stopped.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Curiosity, I suppose. She does not seem to be from this area.”

“She’s from near the Capital,” said the old woman. “Her fathers heard of us and brought her when they could no longer afford to keep her.”

Evvy’s stomach turned over. Her lie had been found out. The Principal continued in the same casual tone, “Are you sure of that?”

“Yes, I am. Now I’ve satisfied your curiosity and that’s that.”

“You’ve satisfied nothing,” he said. “You’re lying.”

The Mistress pulled her arms to her chest. “It’s no concern of yours where she came from,” she said.

“It may be much more my concern than you can guess at,” he said. And then his voice turned harsh. “Unless you already know.” He paused, then went on. “I intend to find out the truth, old woman.”