The Forest at the Edge of the World (7 page)

“Just tell them that underneath it all, despite what they may see, the sky really is blue and they can count upon that
fact
,” the captain said indifferently. “Children are simple, needing only simple answers.”

A few whistles of disapproval greeted his declaration. Peculia
rly, a smile tried to escape his mouth.

And Mahrree saw it.

“You don’t really believe
that, do you Captain?”

He stiffened. “I’m reciting what the Administrators have said, arguing in their behalf.”

“Why?”

The captain paused. “Because I’m the army’s representative in Edge, and by extension, the representative of the Administrators. Their ideas in Idumea may be later applied here in Edge.”

A flicker of concern flashed across his face.

And Mahrree saw that, too.

“The way children are being taught is changing,” he continued formally. “Parents no longer have to concern themselves in choosing the lessons. Just as the Administrators have alleviated the citizenry of difficult decisions concerning farming and ranching procedures, they’ve also decided to alleviate parents of the burden of deciding their children’s curriculum.” He sounded as if he was reading from an official parchment.

Mahrree was glad she wasn’t the only one disturbed by his me
ssage. The calls from the audience expressed a loud mixture of disapproval, intrigue, and confusion. Mahrree listened to hear what the overall concern was, and when she discovered it, she gave it to him.

“Why is it considered a burden to select what’s best for the children to learn? That’s the parents’ duty. My job is to help the pa
rents provide that teaching.”

“Perhaps,” he said mysteriously.

Everyone waited for an explanation.

He offered none but smiled vaguely at her. “Miss Peto, why do you find it disturbing that the Administrators select what’s most i
mportant for our children to learn?”

She really wasn’t sure, but it sat on her strangely. “Captain, what if the Administrators choose to teach that which is against the beliefs of the parents?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Such as
what
, Miss Peto?”

She squirmed as she wondered just how close he was to the Administrator of Loyalty. “I don’t exactly know yet, Captain. I’m just posing the question for the debate.”

“And I answer for the debate,” he said sharply. “I can’t imagine any situation where the Administrators would recommend teaching anything that would be contrary to the welfare of the world. If anyone would be out of line, it would be misguided parents.”

Now the audience squirmed, too.

Exactly
who
would be deciding what was best for the world, Mahrree wondered, and what was best for an individual? Not even she was brave enough to pose such a question in public. Instead, she remembered something else that troubled her. “You mentioned a test of some sort.”

“I did.”

“What kind of test?” She gave tests to her students occasionally, ones she made with their parents.

“A test that’s been developed by the Administrators to make sure the children are learning what they should. A strong civilization needs consistently strong education,” the official voice declared.

While evaluation seemed reasonable to Mahrree, something else wasn’t. “No two children are the same. They all learn at different rates. How will the Administrators account for that in their testing?”

“This will be the first year of the test,” he said. “I’m sure the Administrators are confident they can assess each child fairly.”

“So this test won’t allow for any answer to the
What color is the sky
question other than
blue
?” Mahrree already dreaded his response.

“I don’t believe so.” His face was unreadable.

That irritated Mahrree, among other things.

“So how is that fair when there are many accurate answers? What if it’s raining that day?”

“The children will have been taught that the correct answer
should
be blue.”

“Even when nature disagrees?”

“Nature agrees often enough with the Administrators.” He smiled slyly.

Some in the audience laughed.

Mahrree’s stomach twisted again. “And if it doesn’t, will the Administrators change nature?”

The captain’s smile broadened. “Oh, I certainly hope they’ll try!”

More laughter.

“You have a lot of faith in this new government, don’t you Ca
ptain Shin?” Mahrree said. Until five minutes ago, she did as well. So why did this make her so uneasy, the Administrators wanting to ‘help’ with education, changing the color of the sky to ‘simplify’ everything?

And how would he respond to her question about his faith in the government?  The relationship between the army and the Admini
strators was known to be shaky. The Administrators were doing their best to ensure the army’s abuses of the past would never return, but memories of the killing squads, carrying out Querul the Second and Third’s dictates, were hard to forget.

The captain’s mouth twitched until carefully selected words f
inally came out. “The Administrators are still new—it’s been only two years—so they’re still trying to resolve the many problems left by the kings and their neglect. Change comes slowly, and that can be good. I do, however, have faith they are, indeed, acting in the best interest of the world so . . . yes.”

Mahrree had started smiling halfway through his stumbling, diplomatic speech.

“It took you a little while to get to that ‘yes,’ Captain,” she noted some laughter from the crowd. “But considering the past relationships between the Army of Idumea and the kings, and now the Administrators, I would have imagined you might have a more firm judgment by now.” 

Some in the audience ‘
oohed’ in sympathy for him.

He had trapped himself and had to loosen the grip of his words. He analyzed her, seemingly searching for more than an escape route. To avoid his steady gaze, Mahrree tried to focus on the horizontal scar above his eye again.

“It’s very hard to judge something so new, Miss Peto. And it is also unfair to judge something until you see how it responds in different situations.” He was sliding out of his trap.  “Would you feel comfortable with me evaluating you and how you think after this one brief encounter?” His smile was most disarming. No wonder he was a soldier.

“It is hard to judge accurately, Captain. I agree.”

Some in the audience whistled in disapproval.

Mahrree tossed them a reassuring glance. She wasn’t finished with this officer.

Hardly.

“But we must make some kind of initial judgment, in every si
tuation, to assure our safety and create a basis for evaluation. Then we must modify that judgment as new information arises. I made a judgment about you the moment I saw you.”

She thought she saw something like pleasure race across his face.

“And that judgment has changed many times in the course of our discussion.”

She said it sweetly, but his eyes looked almost pained.

“I now have another evaluation of you, Captain, but I don’t think the time’s right to share it. I have yet to see you prove yourself.”

Applause and even some laughter scattered through the crowd. The captain squared his back and stood a little taller. Mahrree hadn’t realized until then that she didn’t even come up to his shoulders.

His very broad, sturdy shoulders, the influence of her teenagers pointed out.

“I intend to prove myself, very soon. I look forward to it,” he announced.

“You’re going to prove yourself to us? How
progressive
of Idumea,” she sniggered, “they’re now even sending us entertainment.”

Several in the audience joined her in dubious laughter.

Admirably, the captain didn’t even blink at the ridicule. “I have to admit, I’m intrigued by your attitude against progress, Miss Peto. And as you know, Chairman Mal is all about progress.”

The villagers looked at her in nervous expectation.

She knew about the Chairman’s focus on progress. She
also
knew the captain was trying to show he sided with the Administrators, which would nudge her to some position opposite.

“I’m wary of what some people claim is progress, Captain Shin,” she clarified. “Not every edict that came down from the kings was progressive, as I’m sure you’ll agree. And I’m not yet convinced that every
suggestion
from the Administrators will be progressive. Different, yes. Helpful? Ah, that takes time to evaluate.”

“Be careful now, Miss Peto,” Captain Shin simpered. “Someone listening might think you’re not fully behind the
progressive
measures of the Administrators.”

Mahrree squared her narrow shoulders. “Why? Do you have the power to create a killing squad to silence me?” She knew exactly what her boldness would do, and she enjoyed watching it happen.

The audience tittered in loud nervousness, while a few men shifted their gazes towards the captain, their glares hardening.

The captain’s eyebrows shot upwards at her audacity, and she memorized the stunned look on his face. Three of those in a debate, and she would win the evening.

“Miss Peto,” he said earnestly, “I’ve never been involved in a killing squad, nor would I want to. Killing squads were done away with by the High General under Querul the Fourth, and the Army of Idumea has been a peaceful, protective service ever since. But Miss Peto, let’s avoid the emotional tangents you’re employing and get to the heart: what’s your definition of progress? Obviously not something that’s just different, then.”

“No,” she agreed, grudgingly impressed by his ability to reco
gnize her tactic to overturn his line of insinuations.

Hmm.

She hadn’t expected that. She rather thought he’d be as ridiculously thick as his neck. But he was a tricky one.

“Progress is change that improves everyone’s lives,” she told him. “Our way of living, thinking, behaving.”

“And how do you know if something is progressive or not?” he squinted.

“We test it,” Mahrree said, “as The Writings have said we should do: test all things, as we are tested. Oh, wait. I’m sorry.” She batted her eyelashes. “I understand most people from Idumea no longer read The Writings. Too trite and unprogressive?”

She enjoyed watching his face tighten.

The captain nodded. “I have, in fact, read The Writings once or twice. I seem to remember a line where the Creator told the first five hundred families He placed here that they should test all ideas and knowledge for the truth of it. So, how can you dismiss the educ
ational suggestions of the Administrators without even
testing
it yourself?”

The audience chuckled nervously for Mahrree. He had a point.

She had one to match.

“I’m all for finding out the truth, Captain. You won’t find an
yone more determined than me. So this is being tested first in Idumea? Then I’ll wait to see the results before I suggest to my students’ parents that we try any of it here.”

“So you’re willing to trust someone else’s experience?”

“Yes, Captain. I don’t need to fall off my roof to know it’ll hurt. I saw my poor neighbor Mr. Hersh learn the ‘truth’ of the hardness of the ground after a long fall.”

The audience laughed and Captain Shin nodded slowly. “So you’re not opposed to progress?”

“If I were, I would still be wearing animal skins and living in that same cave where in the Creator first placed our ancestors when He brought them to this world 319 years ago!”

“You enjoy citing The Writings, don’t you, Miss Peto?” he said with just a slightly condescending tone. “You probably know all of it, how the Creator taught the women to shear sheep and card wool, and how He taught the men to smelt iron, make tools, cut down trees, and make planking for houses?”

She folded her arms in a manner she hoped also seemed slightly condescending. “I do, Captain. I enjoy discovering the truth the Creator and His guides left for us.”

Captain Shin held up a finger. “Can truth be found from other sources, Miss Peto? Can’t we learn to do things without the guidance of the Creator? We’ve been without the influence of guides for a
lmost 120 years now, and we seem to be just fine.”

“Are you suggesting, Captain Shin,” she glowered, “that losing our last guide in 200, his
murder
in the forest above Moorland, ending the words of the Creator to us, was
progressive?
”

The angry tension that filled the amphitheater told the captain what his response better be if he had any hope of winning any hearts and minds that night.

“Miss Peto, any man’s murder is tragic,” he said somberly. “And the death of the last holy man is beyond that. Of course I’d never suggest the death of Guide Pax was acceptable. But I
would
submit that we have carried on admirably since then, and those in this audience who still revere The Writings as deeply as you do, demonstrate that the spirit of the guides is still strong and viable. Perhaps the Creator now wants us to act for ourselves and progress to the best of our abilities without His direct guidance. Miss Peto, we didn’t need a guide or the Creator to discover how to turn flax to linen, or discover silk.