“Understood,” Patrick muttered.
“Good,” Luke said.
“They’re all like that,” Patrick continued. “Poly . . . poly whatever it is; group marriage and all that. It’s sick. Minister Posch would have a cow. It’s wrong, according to the Bible.”
Amy found Patrick’s use of Minister Posch and the Bible in defense of his argument suspicious. He rarely had anything good to say about either.
“The Bible says we should be tolerant of others,” Kurt replied. Everyone looked at him. He stared back, eyes wide.
“Does it?” Daniel asked.
“It does,” Kurt replied, though he looked less sure of himself. “I’ve been reading it,” he ended lamely.
The remainder of the hour stretched into an eternity for Amy. No one felt like talking much.
Patrick fidgeted sullenly with his knife with a look that dared anyone to comment. Daniel and Kurt huddled over the small green book that Kurt carried. “Huh. It does say that. I’ll be damned,” Daniel muttered. “Wonder why Posch never read that passage?”
Luke and Mark were studying the map together. Mark kept speculating about the other communities along the route and what sort of “hospitality” they might provide while Luke rolled his eyes.
Amy was left to herself. She kept alternating between wondering where Lexa was and wondering who had “pussy whipped” Shawn.
Finally, the council filed back in. Luke gave his approval to the plan, and the details were quickly set. Three members of the community would be sent as guides and to assist. This gave the expedition ten men to drive five trucks. This was more than sufficient, since the Stewards would do the hard part, unloading the waste.
The expedition had approximately ten days before the waste would be ready. In that time, they would have to learn to drive the electric trucks.
For Amy, training began and ended that afternoon. She was already familiar with both automatic and clutch vehicles and tractors. Electric vehicles were a piece of cake by comparison.
Luke had suggested that she could help teach the others. After one explosion with Mark, Lucy wisely overruled him. Amy was sent off.
So Amy found herself wandering around the community with nothing to do for the next ten days. She found Robin’s Nest, but nobody was home. Michael was sitting in the garden as she wandered by. He waved a greeting, and she went over to him. He gestured for her to sit.
“Am I disturbing you?” she asked.
“Not at all. I was meditating, but I am done. How are the lessons going?”
She told him. “Do you know where Lexa is?”
“I believe she is in the workshop. They are quite busy this time of the year. Winter plays havoc on the wind generators.”
“Oh, I’d hate to bother her then.”
“Are you looking for some company?” Michael asked. “If so, I am free.”
She agreed. She enjoyed his quiet manner and frank answers. As they toured the village, he explained much about the how the tribe was governed and how it functioned. It was all so different from what Amy was used to that she understood little.
“Michael?” she said after a while.
“Yes?”
“I feel I can ask you anything, you are so calm and polite.”
“You are too kind,” he replied with a grin. “Is there something special you want to ask?”
“Well, yes. I don’t really understand the marriage customs that your people have, and I didn’t want to ask Lexa anymore questions.”
“Why not? Lexa would give you very thorough and descriptive answers no doubt.”
“That’s what I am afraid of,” she replied. He laughed so hard he nearly fell over. Amy blushed and smiled sheepishly.
He sobered after a moment. “I shouldn’t jest. I know your people are very conservative. I imagine you don’t approve.”
“I am trying to be open minded,” she replied. “I like your community and all that, but I am a bit confused. Is it necessary for you to, you know, be like that?”
“Necessary, no,” he replied. “You came in past the Akiras, I hear. I know Ruth, fought with her years ago. She’s tough as nails; so is Roger. Anyway, they’re not like us—strict monogamy all the way.”
He paused and reflected. “You have to understand, we were always like this. Pagans, I mean. We believed that love was good no matter what form it took. We accepted everyone, straight, gay, bi or transgender. Group marriage was not uncommon among us even then. We were a haven for alternative thinkers of all sorts.”
“Yes, but how did the rest of society come to accept this?” Amy asked.
“Oh, not all have. Indeed many of the outlying villages haven’t. Bullhaven doesn’t have any group marriages.”
“But they allow,” Amy struggled for the words, “loose sex.”
“Oh, that?” Michael replied. “I didn’t even think of that. Your ranch really is conservative. Yes, the sexual ethics have shifted a lot since the collapse.”
“There are two primary reasons. Interestingly, they are also totally opposite each other. First off, fertility is way down. As a boy, I remember hearing that fertility was beginning to be a problem even before the blast, due to pesticides and stuff in the drinking water. Then came the blast, the collapse, and whatnot. Radiation and toxic waste have combined in such a way that we are lucky if one in five is fertile.
“So the first issue is the need to procreate. We could be just a few generations from extinction. We all feel it. Many think that the human race is dying. Can we just let it?
“Liberals once argued that we should stop having so many babies because the world was too crowded. Now the opposite is true: the same liberals tell us we must take every opportunity to propagate. It is our sacred duty to at least try.” He chuckled.
“Of course, no one listens to liberals much. The second reason is just the opposite. With fertility way down, people have less fear of pregnancy. Those who know they are sterile have no concern. Fertile women know that any pregnancy will be welcomed, not called an accident like it once would have been.”
“In my world,” Amy said. “A woman who gets pregnant out of wedlock is looked down upon and no one wants her.”
“So I remember. But here, she would be even more desirable, having proof of her fertility. Any family would be glad to have her.
“And there is genetic diversity to consider,” he continued.
Amy knew the phrase from livestock management. “You mean like breeding animals?”
He nodded. “The same rules apply to humans. Too much inbreeding can lead to serious problems. With so few people left, and those all scattered about, it’s a valid concern. To protect ourselves, we must make an effort to mix the gene pool as much as possible.”
“So you are saying that group marriage protects the gene pool?”
“No, open relationships protect the gene pool. Being free to mix sexually with any travelers helps avoid inbreeding.”
“I’ll bet the boys are enjoying that,” Amy sneered.
“Rumor has it several of them have,” Michael replied. “We placed most of the boys with older families so that their hosts would be aware of how the ethics were in the old days. There have been no unwanted advances, as far as I know.”
Amy did not want to think about what the boys were doing. “Anyway, what is group marriage about, if not genetic diversity?”
“Much simpler matters really,” he replied. “As I said earlier, before the collapse we already had a number of such arrangements. Others adopted it later because of the chaos that ensued during the collapse. Struggles and grief have a way of building intimacy fast, but what do you do when you discover that your spouse survived after all? Leave the new one or the old? Many of the survivors were familiar with our example and decided to give it a try.
“Also there are distinct advantages. Just look around. Life is hard these days. In subsistence farming, an extra hand or two is always helpful.”
“But at the ranch we work together, and there is no group marriage.”
“Yes, but how much conflict is there?”
Amy thought about that. She compared in her mind the quiet discussions she had witnessed here with the unruly chaos of meetings back home.
“Sex is not just about procreation. It is about bonding. It helps create a strong emotional bond. It doesn’t prevent conflict; in fact, it can create more. But it does provide some cushion, some way around conflict. Take the Dog Boys.”
“Dog Boys?”
“Yes, they are the tribe’s primary warriors. They are mostly sterile and mostly homosexuals, like the ancient Greeks. Because of their open sexuality, they are a tightknit group. In times of trouble, they have always fought well, in part because they are so protective of each other.”
A gong sounded as they walked. “What was that?” Amy asked.
“Quitting time at the workshop,” he replied. “Come on.”
Chapter 9
THE DOG BOYS
They approached the workshop as the workers were starting to come out. Lorn and Lexa were among them.
“Good day to you,” Lorn greeted them. “I hope everything went well at the council?”
Michael explained the deal. Lorn nodded. “I had hoped as much. I hate to dash off,” he said, “but I need to catch the boys before they return to their host families. We are going to invite them up for a warriors circle with the Dog Boys. Are you interested, Amy?”
“Warriors stuff,” Lexa scoffed. “We have better things to do.” Amy allowed herself to be pulled away despite a vague curiosity.
Luke studied the circle with some interest. The horrible sinking feeling he had felt when Michael and Lorn revealed they knew the boys had “been a bit rowdy” at the village was finally leaving him. It was replaced by a mixture of curiosity and dread.
At least the Tir-Na-Nog warriors were not, apparently, put off by the reports they had heard. They expected young warriors, out on their own for the first time, to behave that way. Indeed, they had traditions in place to assist. It was only natural to want to test yourself, the warriors believed, and they had found a safe way to do so: the warriors circle. At least that was the theory.
As they had described the warriors circle and its rules, Luke grew calm, even relaxed. It sounded no different from the free sparring they did in their combat training course. It was nothing more than a few friendly matches so they could compare styles and abilities. Afterward, they would feast together, drink, and be friends.
Now that they were about to begin, however, he realized just how different this combat training was from that of the ranch. Several of the Dog Boys gathered up large wooden and leather drums. They began beating them in a deep, booming rhythm. Everyone began to circle slowly. One man picked up a stringed instrument and began to play. He sang a deep, rhythmic song in a language Luke had never heard before.
Lorn was “Maestro” for the evening’s game. He would decide who fought, and he would judge the matches.
The boys were all huddled close to Luke. They were intimidated by this.
“There are women,” Shawn muttered. “I thought it was warriors only.”
“It is. They have women warriors,” Luke replied.
“I won’t fight a girl,” Patrick declared. “It’s not right.”
“Send in Mark,” Kurt piped up. “He’ll hit a girl.”
Mark snarled savagely at Kurt, who ducked behind Daniel.
“You will go in and fight whoever they put against you,” Luke told Patrick. “You are the best fighter we have. Make the ranch proud.”
Pride forced Patrick into action. He stepped slowly out of the circle, like they had been instructed. He knelt at the edge of the bare space that was the ring.
Several of the tribe members immediately followed suit, showing their willingness to take the challenge. Among them was a slender woman. She had her hair cut as short as Patrick’s. She wore what they had been told was the traditional Hakima: cotton pants and top held together with a very faded black belt. She was short and slender, but her face shone with an intensity that Luke had not seen since Isaiah Hall. Next to her right temple a spider was tattooed.
“At the ranch, we don’t fight women,” Patrick called out.
“Why? Are you scared of them?” someone asked.
Patrick’s eyes shot around, searching for the speaker. Lorn gave Patrick a nod, and he took the center of the circle.
“I’ll take whoever made that comment,” Patrick declared.
“You’ll take who you’re given,” a voice answered.
“You’ll get Spider,” Lorn said.
The woman gave a quick bow and leaped into the ring.
Several voices began chanting “Spider, Spider.”
“For the ranch,” Mark shouted at Patrick.
“For the ranch,” Shawn added.
Patrick laughed. Luke knew what he was thinking; Luke was thinking it too. Why send this little woman up against Patrick? She had no chance. He was twice her size.
Still laughing, Patrick took a ready stance. His fist shot out. She ducked easily. He was fast, almost too fast to see, but she was faster. He threw jab after jab. She bobbed and wove, always just out of reach.
Finally, with a shout he leaped forward, bearing down on her. She fell before him. He pushed her down, overpowering her.
Then, incredibly, as she fell on her back, her feet came up. Her legs twisted, and Patrick was caught. She wrapped her legs around his neck in a very unladylike chokehold. With a simple twist, Patrick was on his back, held helpless. There was a roar from the crowd. “Spider!” they cheered.
So the night went. Other than the rules of contact, there were few similarities between this and the way the boys had been trained. The warriors of the Greenbowe tribe ducked, bobbed, wove, somersaulted, and cartwheeled fluidly around the circle, hitting, kicking, and throwing each other. It was fast and furious, but mostly devious. One moment, they were falling down defeated; the next, a foot snaked out and they swept their opponent down.
After a while, Luke began to be able to pick out several distinct styles. A few people predominately used throws that were very reminiscent of Luke’s Judo book. A larger number of others used a more flowing style of throws that Luke guessed from Ruth’s description to be Aikido. There were many other styles that Luke had no name for.