«Blake,» Amanda said. He scowled, but kept quiet.
Fakhud grimaced, and took another sip of the water.
«What happened to you?» Amanda asked.
«I fell from my horse.»
«And the bite wounds? Lenny said it was probably a dog.»
«Your pardon, but the less you know of me, the less involved in my affairs you will be.»
«Sure,» she said in disgust.
Lenny returned with his bag. He started to stick small sensor disks on Fakhud's legs.
«Stay and help Lenny,» Amanda told Blake. «Then come and tell me when he's ready to leave.» She and Jane walked out into the heat of the farmyard. «I'm sorry,» she said it so fiercely it was almost a hiss.
Jane sighed. «Not your fault.»
«I can't believe Blake was so thoughtless. To put you and your friends in this position, it's . . . it's . . .»
«In a way it's rather admirable, actually. He's only interested in the farm, getting your fruit picked and the trees pruned and fertilized. Politics, race, and religion aren't part of the equation for him. That was the whole point of Nyvan, wasn't it? Our parents came here to escape their past; they wanted a land where they could put all their energies into their farms and their businesses. And your Blake, he's still living there.»
«He's a fool. Times change.»
«No, time doesn't change, it just goes backwards. That's the thing to be sorry for.»
«I'll have Fakhud out of here by this evening, whether he's on his feet or not.»
Jane gave her a sad smile. «I'm sure you will.»
«Will Lenny be able to patch those wounds up? Some of them looked ugly to me.»
«Don't worry about that. Lenny completed three years at medical school before we all decided to leave Harrisburg. He's as good as qualified. And he's had a lot of experience with the kind of injuries you get from clashing with the authorities.»
«I can't believe you were forced out.»
«Nobody can, until it happens to them. Oh, it's not that bad, not yet. But we Jews have a long history of persecution we can reference, in fact it is our history. We can see the way Harrisburg is going. Best we leave before it does spiral downwards.»
«Where will you go?»
«Tasmal, most likely. A lot of our people have drifted there over the last decade, and to hell with the Settlement Ministry quotas. We're almost a majority there, the newest of the New Jerusalems.»
«But that's on the Dayall continent; it has to be six thousand kilometres away at least.»
Jane laughed. «The promised land is never over the next hill. Also our history.»
«I'm sorry.»
«Don't be. Me and the rest will be OK. We were smart enough to start the journey early. The stubborn ones, those that stay, they'll be the ones who suffer.»
Amanda glanced round the familiarity of the farmyard. The burroughs trees that waved slowly in the warm breeze were an easy five metres taller than they had been when she was a girl. Over in the eastern corner, the well pump was making its usual clatter as it topped up the cisterns. The red clay tile roof of the long barn was sagging deeper as this year's growth of purple-flowering joycevine added another heavy layer of branches.
It isn't just Blake whose mind is closed to the outside, she acknowledged reluctantly. I'm so comfortable here I share the same illusion. The only thing which matters to anyone who lives at the farm, is the farm. Until today.
«You'd better get back to the orchard,» Jane said. «The apples still need picking, nothing's changed that.»
«Right.» Amanda took a last uneasy look at the kitchen door. «What are you going to do?»
«Tidy up here.» Jane was studying the splashes of blood in the back of the pick-up van. «I'll get the hose out and wash away all the traces. Best to be careful. The Harrisburg cops are going to be searching for him, and we don't know what happened to the dogs.»
Amanda didn't even feel resentful that she was being told what to do on her own farm. She walked back to the orchard, and told the pickers that Blake had found a victim of a riding accident that Lenny was now treating. They seemed to accept that with only mild curiosity.
It was another hour before Blake came out to tell her Lenny had finished. Jane had done a good job washing away the evidence from the pick-up, which was now parked in its usual place beside the gate. Amanda couldn't even see any blood spots left on the soil outside the kitchen door, just a big damp patch. Jane was busy tending a small bonfire.
The kitchen had been cleaned, too; it smelt strongly of bleach. Fakhud was sitting in one of the high-back chairs around the table. His green overalls had been replaced by a faded green T-shirt and black canvas shorts—which she recognized as belonging to Blake. Both his legs were sprayed in pale-yellow bandage foam which had hardened into a tough carapace.
A silent Lenny gave her a brief nod as he walked out. «He doesn't say much,» Fakhud said, «but he's an excellent medic. I suppose there's an irony in the situation, him tending me. We're hardly allies.»
«You're humans,» Amanda said.
«Ah. Indeed we are. You shame the pair of us, my dear lady.»
«Well, not for any longer. You're fit to move, I'd like you to leave now.»
«Of course. I have imposed too much already.»
«Wait a minute,» Blake said. «Amanda, you haven't heard what he's told me.»
«Nor do I want to,» she said wearily.
«Not about . . . you know, what he does. This is about New Balat itself, the way its society is run.»
«What about New Balat?» She rounded on Fakhud. «What nonsense have you been filling his head with?»
«It's not nonsense,» Blake snapped. «It's a solution to our financial problems.»
«You don't have financial problems,» she said. «I do. The farm does. You do not. Get that quite clear.»
«All right! But it's still a solution to your problems. And if you have problems here, then so do I.»
«Start getting a grip on perspective, Blake. I manage this farm just fine, thank you. The money doesn't come in regularly, because we have seasons. It's a situation I've coped with my entire life. Every farm throughout history has lived like this; we get paid for our crops when they come in and we have to make the money last throughout the rest of the year. A simple expenditure-planning program on the home terminal can see us through without any trouble. Nothing needs to change because some newcomer can't cope with that. This farm has been here for eighty years, and we've managed perfectly well up until now. If it ain't broke, don't try and fix it.»
«The banks are crippling you with their interest rates. They don't care about families and people. They just want money, they want you to work your fingers to the bone for them.»
«You're being simplistic. I make a profit every year. And everybody has to work for a living, even bankers.»
«But it doesn't have to be like that. Fakhud says that the New Balat council gives grants to all the farms in their county so they can buy new equipment when they need it and pay workers a decent wage. And their kids have an education paid for by the state, a good education. There are no private schools, no privileged elite.»
«I'm sure the New Balat council gives out thousands of benevolent grants. But here in Harrisburg's county we get loans from the bank instead. There's no basic difference. Only the names change. Our services come from the private sector, your friend's society is paid for by the state. So what?»
«It's fairer, that's what. Can't you see that?»
«No.»
«They're not dependent on the profit motive, on greed. That's the difference. That's what makes it fair! Their economic policy is controlled by democracy, with us it's the other way round.»
«Heaven preserve us. Blake, I'm only going to say this once more. I am not interested. I don't want to replace our bankers with their bureaucrats, I do not want to switch from paying high interest rates to high taxes. We have a market for the fruit, we have a decent cash flow. That's all we need. This is a farming family, my only ambition is to keep it ticking over smoothly. I'm sorry if that isn't enough for you. If you don't like that, you can go. Besides, in case you haven't noticed, we're not even in New Balat county.»