Chapter 1
It was a
lovely, moonlit night in northern England. The air was cold and biting, but the
wind was not up as it could have been in late November. There was a thin layer
of snow on the ground, an oddity in the Fall. Not
enough to make their walk difficult, but sufficient to render the surrounding
countryside dazzling in the bright, pale moonlight.
Julia
stopped to let her eyes glide over the frozen landscape, and Colin held her
close. From the low rise they were on they could see a long way in the clear
evening air; the gently rolling hills and little woods separating them, the
cluster of cottages below with smoke spiraling up into the starry sky. Julia
Warren knew this place well. She had lived near the small, picturesque village
in the farm country near Carlisle all her life. It was home.
"Come on,"
said her husband, whispering in her ear. "We're going to be late."
Julia was
lost in the moment. She could see her breath condensing in the frosty air and
her mind wandered. Her father had seemed upset about something when he had
called earlier and asked them to come by.
Julia
smiled to herself as she anticipated another evening with her loved ones. She
and Colin spent many happy nights, gathered with her extended family in the
vicar's quaint and cozy home.
The world
outside of England was so complicated now, and seemed so hostile. She thought
about how lucky she was to be living in the heart of Britain, seemingly so far
from the trouble that vexed other places. The horrible disease wars, the
collapse of the West, the rise of a powerful black leader in Africa- all of it
had been terrifying. But over thirty years had passed since the man-made
plagues of the biowars had swept across the globe. Africa, for centuries the
under the thumb of white colonial powers and petty black dictators was for the
first time in history unified by one government. An ascendant and mighty empire
had filled a vacuum and come into being almost overnight. It brought Negroid
people unprecedented power, prosperity and unanimity of purpose under a new
faith. But its progenitor had not been content with one continent. Hakeem the
Prophet sought to dominate the world. And had succeeded. His armies had invaded
and overrun Europe and most of North America had been subdued. Though African
troops were still engaged in wars in Russia, Scandinavia, and Australia, black
armies carried booty and resources back to the booming economy of their
homeland. Hakeem's Empire seemed to hold sway over all the world. But in England,
there was peace.
Britain
had never been conquered. Almost alone among white nations she had kept her
culture, her identity, and her nationhood. But there had been a price. Britain
after the biowar was far too weak to stand up against Hakeem's global empire.
Her existence and autonomy had not been secured by military strength, but by a
political deal.
Julia
watched as a bright meteor flashed silently across the sky. She felt her
husband's comforting nearness and his warm breath as she watched the falling
star fade. She was happy. Happier she was sure, than any other woman on earth.
If only the moment could last forever.
And yet,
standing on that lovely hill, amid an evening so serene, she suddenly felt an
unexplained sense of foreboding- almost a premonition as she remembered her
father's mysterious distress. It was inexplicable, but something told her she
was seeing this place for the last time. The feeling only lasted a moment and
she reached for her husband's hand. It wasn't there.
"Colin?
Colin, wait," Julia laughed playfully. She hurried down the path now to catch
up. He had grown impatient while she gazed at the full moon and had wandered
ahead a bit. "Colin!" she giggled, "wait for me!"
"Do you
want to be out in the cold all night, love?" asked Colin.
"Oh
darling, the moon is so beautiful tonight."
"Yes, but
the vicar is waiting. And anyway, my fingers are growing numb."
Julia
laughed again and quickened her pace. "It's just my father waiting. And he'll
not care if we take a few moments to enjoy the stroll."
Colin
Warren sighed. It was difficult not to indulge his lovely blond-haired wife.
She caught up to him and took his hand. He watched as the bright, iron-white
moonlight played across her face, seeming to bathe her pale skin and sweet
smile in its luminance. He could see the lunar disc reflecting in her eyes-
eyes like the moon, he thought, round and gray, and so pure. The steam from her
breath hung between them and he kissed her. He pulled her body to himself and
felt her warmth.
"Julia, I
love you," he whispered, embracing her even closer.
"I love
you so much, Colin," she said.
"Julia,"
he sighed. "I... I want to... tonight..." He nuzzled her soft neck and fumbled with
the words to express his need. "Tonight, I want to make love to you..."
She stiffened
and turned away.
"Julia.
You're my wife. There's nothing wrong with us being..."
"I know,
Colin... It's just..."
"But we've
been married four months now and we've barely... I mean, we've only just consummated
our marriage. I love you, Julia, but... How can we ever have a family if... if we
don't..."
She looked
up at him with her open, innocent gaze. "Please, Colin. You know I love you.
It's just... Always the same... I'm afraid it will hurt, and... I feels dirty...
Sinful."
"Darling,
we're married," he said. "Even the church will tell you..."
"I know,
Colin. I do love you. I saved myself for marriage- for you. I just need more
time."
He held
her closer, her vibrant form shivering a little now that they had been standing
still. He did indeed love Julia dearly and wanted to avoid hurting her. That
was why he had not insisted on sex. When they had been dating she had told him
she wanted to stay pure, something he had wanted as well. After they married
however, he had expected a normal relationship. That had not been the case.
Their
wedding night had been a disaster, with Julia detached and stiff. She wore a
flannel nightgown, refusing to take it off with the lights on. He had bumbled
about nervously in the dark of their bedroom- trying to undress her while she
grew even more ridged at the feel of his naked body. Then she had fought and
cried as he attempted to mount her clumsily. Finally she had broken down and
pushed him away with all her strength.
Colin had
finally reached over and turned the light on, hurt and confused and looking
away from her. Julia quickly found her nightgown and put it on. She sat up in
bed, crying and clinging to him, but with her legs nonetheless clamped tightly
together. She had implored for time to adjust, time to steal herself to a
wife's duties. Soon, she promised, they would share a physical love as well.
But it wad
been nearly a week before they had consummated their marriage. That time and
every time since had been dreadful. Julia had lain motionless and impassive as
he had rutted her artlessly. Nothing he could say or do would shake her
conviction that the act was "dirty" and "animalistic." She allowed him to do
it, occasionally, but considered it a decision of wifely volition, a duty.
Neither of them found any joy in union.
The
wedding had now been more than a season ago, and she had not advanced in her
thinking. She still rebuffed almost every advance, gently and adroitly to be
sure, but effectively. The comely bride was so modest; she would not even
undress in the same room with her husband. And she kept the flannel sleepwear.
Colin knew
he should demand a husband's due, or they should separate if she did not relent
soon. But he simply did not want to face the prospect of losing her. He loved
her so much he could not bring himself to force her, or let her go, and so his
conundrum went on.
She's so
beautiful he thought. Seeing her like this tonight with the round, cold moon in
her eyes. Feeling her heart beat and her warm breath on his face, it was easy
to hope: so simple to believe it would be all right if he would just give her a
little more time. But there was the dull feeling of rejection which grew in his
gut with every sexless night- and to be honest, a persistent ache in his
balls.
"Come on,"
she whispered. "My father's waiting."
They started
down the path again and crested the low hill. Colin thought as he walked.
Perhaps he should speak to the vicar about their marriage issues, after all, he
was the local pastor; part man of God, part psychologist. But it would be a bit
of a strain talking about his problem with his wife's father. And Colin knew
the man was burdened enough. He led a fairly large church of several hundred parishioners.
But British authorities, acting on the insistence of the African Embassy had
banned large assemblies. The church was forced to meet in small groups for
worship, over which the vicar was obliged to preside. He was a very busy
shepherd trying to keep a scattered flock. Julia helped him greatly with
organization and visitation. She kept the parish records and knew every family
in the church on a close personal basis.
Up ahead
at last was the village church, and a little thatched house on the grounds
behind it. They turned off the road and passed through the gate, up the narrow
walkway to the cottage. There was a sign under the little lamp on the front
porch that read, "Vicarage."
Colin
rapped on the ancient wooden door and waited.
It was
answered by an older man wearing the formal garments of the clergy.
"Hello,
Dad, you asked us to come by tonight," said Julia.
"Yes... yes,
come in," he said solemnly.
Julia
could tell immediately that some great anxiety weighed on her father's mind.
She and Colin quickly filed in and followed the Vicar to his little parlor,
where the other members of the family already sat.
Colin's
sister Jane was there, with her husband Richard. They were newly married as
well, and lived nearby. Colin welcomed the chance to see her. Seated on the old
couch was Julia's other sister Patricia and her husband Ben. Her younger sister
Anne, who still lived with her father, sat on the piano bench. But Colin and
Julia saw none of the smiles and happy ambiance that they were accustomed to.
"Would...
would anyone like some tea? I don't have very much to eat I'm afraid," said the
Vicar.
"Dad,
what's wrong?" asked Julia.
"Just come
and sit down, all of you, please... this is very difficult for me," said the
Vicar, softly.
Julia and
Colin exchanged puzzled looks, but complied with the old man's request that
they enter.
"I... I have
an old friend... in London," stammered the Vicar. "With the Home Office... He... He
called today to tell me..."
"Dad,
please, tell us what's wrong," said Julia.
"I... don't
know how to tell you all this... girls," he abruptly looked away, and Julia
realized there were tears on her father's face. She had never seen him cry
before.
"Oh my
daughters... my precious girls," he said, his voice cracking. "I've been informed
that you... Julia and Patricia, have been selected for the Levy... Jane as well,
and you too, Colin..."
There were
gasps, then shocked silence.
"You... you
mean... how could all... Jane and Patricia, and... all of us have been...?" Asked Julia
finally, unable to accept what he had said.
"Yes,"
choked the vicar, "and as I said, Colin. But not Ben or Richard, thank heaven."
"What
about Anne?" asked Julia. She could see the sensitive
younger girl was crying. She was only fifteen, but already a beauty.
"No, Anne
was not proscribed," said her father.
"Why so...
why so many from one family?" asked Jane.
The Levy
Officials must have seen us all together in church," said the vicar. "Perhaps
on one of the holy days. I've heard they monitor such events."
Everyone
groaned with misery. They had all known there was a risk. Many families home
schooled their children, and did not go out to church or market often, to avoid
being seen by the Levy people. Girls and young women were at particular
risk.
"Can't we
petition the government?" asked Jane. Her eyes were wide with horror as she
realized she was going to be torn from her husband and the home in which she
had spent all of her young, sheltered life. It was said that no one ever
returned after being taken by the Levy.
"Please,
I... I can't go... My... my baby!" said Patricia, her expressive face registering the
devastation they were all beginning to feel. She was six months pregnant and
her maternal condition was very apparent already, despite the conservative
dresses she wore. "Ben, you can't let them take me! Please, we're a family now,
like you always wanted... I can't go without Ben!"
"Patty,
I'm sorry," said the Vicar, gravely. "The law is very explicit. There are no
exceptions and no appeals regarding Levy selection."
"No,"
cried Ben clutching his wife. "I'm not going to lose you... we'll run, hide out!"
"Where
will you go?" asked the Vicar. "There is no place to hide and the government
spies are everywhere. You will be hunted for the rest of your lives. If you're
caught you will be executed, both of you. Or be shipped to Africa anyway. And
even if you do elude them for a time, the Levy quota must be filled. Some other
English family will lose a wife, or daughter, or mother to buy you a brief
freedom."
"Maybe
there's some mistake," said Colin.
The vicar
shook his head gravely. "No. The man who called me is a black African friend I
met in Nigeria years ago. He immigrated to this country before the biowar and
is now one of the top Levy officials. He was taking a terrible personal risk by
informing us a day before the list becomes public. I'm sure he would have
double checked."
Now even
Richard was crying. "This is inhuman. What can we do?"
"There is
nothing we can do but submit," said the Vicar, his voice breaking. "And hope
for the best, for those we love and will miss."
No one
said anything for awhile, and the men held their wives close. Anne clung to
Julia and sobbed softly, the two were very close. Then Julia, wanting to
comfort her family said, "at least we'll be together, Colin and I... and, Patty
and Jane. That's a good thing, father," said Julia.
"I don't
know," said the Vicar. "I don't know if you'll be together where you're going."
"Where are
we going?" asked Colin. "How will they treat us?"
"I don't know," said the Vicar. "Most of those
taken in the Levy leave for Africa, but... no one ever returns, so... so we don't
really know how our people are treated there or what becomes of them."
"I was in
Africa, Nigeria, as a young man," said the vicar. "Before the Biowar. It was a
strange place. Partly modern, but much of it brutal, backward and fragmented.
Africa had amazing people, but there was nothing to unite them. Then Hakeem
came out of nowhere..."
"The
prophet they talk about," said Colin. "They almost worship him."
"Yes,"
agreed the vicar. "He has become the Mahadi, their messiah. He has indeed
remade Africa to fit his vision. Some say he is remaking the world."
"I've
heard of what his world is like... and what happens to those chosen in the Levy,"
said Jane grimly.