Edward Llewellyn - Prelude to Chaos

Anslinger rode well and the coat of his black stallion gleamed in the sunlight. I am no judge of horseflesh; in fact I consider horses to be untrustworthy and foolish animals. An opinion I had kept to myself for they were used for much of the farm work, and Sherando had developed a breed which was proving popular with recreational riders in the surrounding Affluence. The horse which Deacon Anslinger was riding was an unusually fine specimen, even to my untutored eye. I said as much when he dismounted and came to join me.

That evidently pleased him. “A fine animal to look at, a valuable animal to use, Mister Smith.” (Judith had wisely given both of us names which were obvious aliases when we had arrived covered in blood and reeking of alcohol.)

“You’re starting to use horsepower here.”

“We are preparing to face the Wrath to Come. The Wrath against which our Teacher warned us. Preparing for the day when the oil wells will no longer pour forth their plenty, when the fusion reactors are silent, when the oceans no longer provide hydrides to power the machines. For the day when we return to healthy ways, to natural ways, to the ways of our forefathers.”

I glanced at him. “Do you really think things will become as bad as all that?”

“That is the future which the Light has illuminated for I hose of us who walk in the way of the Light. The future which is darkness for those who hide in Darkness.”

“You’ll be better prepared than most” I nodded toward the rich fields surrounding the Settlement “Fertility, Mister Smith! Fertility! An island of human fertility set in a once-fertile valley. Did you know that the Shenandoah was called the ‘breadbasket of the Confederacy’? We are going to restore it to its old richness.”

“The whole valley?”

Anslinger waved his riding crop north and south. “We are saving many farms from Washington dilettantes and developers by purchasing them from farmers growing too old to farm and without grandchildren to inherit We are paying very generous prices for the land surrounding the Settlement Surely you can see why, Mister Smith? You are an educated and intelligent man. You can read the future better than most outsiders.”

I agreed that the future was starting to look grim.

“Grim to those who have the insight to look and the courage to see.” He laid his hand on my shoulder. “Have you considered facing that future here with us?”

“Deacon, I’m not a Believer.”

“Anyone with a skill we need is welcome here. We hope that the stranger within our gates who remains as our guest will learn our way of life and be illuminated by the Light which shines upon us all.”

“Skill? What skill?”

“You are a fighting man. I do not know who you are nor whence you came. But you arrived with two guns and a bullet in your shoulder. Judith brought you here. She is an arrogant and willful woman, but I think she is a good judge of men. And men will be needed to defend Sherando.”

“Defend Sherando? Defend it against what?”

“Against the rabble who will try to take from us that which is ours.”

I assumed he meant that the locals might try to snatch some of the girls reputed to be fertile. “You think there’ll be more than the Sheriff can handle?” Sheriff Jenkins was an elderly and amiable man whose job was a sinecure. The Believers in Sherando were law-abiding by nature and religion. Those who proved otherwise were thrown out “Sheriff Jenkins needs competent deputies. Many more if we are ever attacked by a mob.”

“You’ve got over a couple of thousand able-bodied men down there.” I gestured toward the Settlement. “That should be enough to drive off any mob.”

“Two thousand males! Only a handful of men. The Settlements were founded by pacifists. They have the weapons but lack the will. And it is the Will which triumphs! We must prepare Sherando to face the dangers which lie ahead. The Council has made me responsible for those preparations. I have already started to do what I can. You see those bulldozers?” He pointed with his riding crop. ‘They are digging a lake. A reservoir for water storage through a dry summer. The soil they throw up will serve us as ramparts through a violent season.”

I began to see what he was getting at. “Ramparts can give an illusion of security, Deacon Anslinger.”

“That I know. What was it the Swedes used to say? Something to the effect that other nations defended their men with walls. The Swedes defended their walls with men. We must prepare to defend those ramparts with men. I have earth to form into ramparts. I have males who must be formed into men. But I need trained fighters, like yourself, to aid me in building up a defense force.” He slapped his crop against his boot. “You may be the kind of man I need. While your wound is healing would you consider aiding me in that? The Council and I would both be grateful if you do.”

I chose my words with care. “I may not be the kind of expert you want.”

“That we can only discover if you agree to demonstrate what you can do.” He walked toward his horse. “If you’re interested in staying on for a while as our guest, come to my office in the Council Chamber later today, after you have considered my suggestion. Then we will discuss it further.” He swung up into the saddle. “It would be wise of you to come!” He raised his riding crop in salute and went cantering back toward Sherando.

I walked slowly after him. Both invitation and threat were clear. I would be allowed to stay if I was willing to become his hit man, and if he liked the sound of what I had to say about defending the Settlement.

I really didn’t have much choice. I was certain that I was still being hunted by the Feds and I was in no shape to survive that kind of hunt. I had no refuge outside Sherando.

Colt secure within it. And in any case what Anslinger was liking me to do seemed something worth doing. These people would have to get together some kind of self-defense force to prepare for a worst-case outcome. I studied the layout of the Settlement as I walked toward it and began to appreciate that whoever had chosen this site had had something more than communal agriculture in mind. The hill on which Sherando had been built was a natural strongpoint in nineteenth century terms. And the kind of fighting likely to occur if Anslinger’s scenario proved correct would be nineteenth-century lighting.

I went to discuss Anslinger’s proposal with Judith. I found her in the hospital cleaning instruments and, as was often the case these days, she was in a foul temper.

“So Anslinger’s offered you a job as one of his resident thugs, has he?” She threw down the instrument she was cleaning. “This is no place for you! There is Light here, but there is also Darkness. There is Good but also Evil. And you don’t know enough to tell one from the other. If you stay in Sherando you’ll be drawn into a struggle you don’t understand and destroyed not knowing why.”

A couple of nurses on the far side of the room were beginning to look at Judith, and their looks were not friendly. I signaled her to meet me outside on the plaza, and when she arrived I asked, “Can’t we go somewhere private?” I attempted humor. “What about a walk through the woods?”

“Do you want to get me classified as a wanton woman? Whatever you have to say, say it here. That gaggle of so-called nurses can’t eavesdrop. But they can see I’m not seducing you!”

I glanced around. There was less privacy inside Sherando than there had been inside the Pen. The plaza was the main square and, paved with permac, it reminded me of a parade ground. To the south was the main entrance to the Settlement, to the north the Council Chamber, to the east the Hospital, and to the west the Bachelor Cloister. We were probably being watched from all sides but nobody was within earshot. “Judy, I’m thinking of accepting Anslinger’s offer.”