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 His green overalls had been replaced by a faded green T-shirt and black canvas shorts— which she recognized as belonging to Blake.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.»
Blake smiled triumphantly. «But we could be.»
«What?»
Fakhud coughed apologetically. «I merely pointed out that this farm is on the borderland. If you did wish to switch allegiances, then in terms of realpolitik it would be possible.»
«Oh, shit.» She wanted to sink into a chair and put her head in her hands. But that would be showing both of them how weak she was.
«See?» Blake said. «It can be done. We can break free if we want to.»
«Break free? Are you insane or just retarded? This is a farm, that's all. We're not some big agricultural institution, not a major league economic asset. Just a family farm. We grow apples, strawberries, pears, and peaches. Once we've grown them, we sell them. That's all we do.»
«Sell them to a corrupt system.»
«I'm not arguing with you, Blake. This subject is now closed.»
«But—«
«Blake,» Fakhud said softly. «Amanda has made her choice. You should respect that.»
She was too surprised to say anything. I could tell you and your kind about choices and liberty, she thought. Women must obey their husbands and aren't permitted to vote.
Blake looked from one to the other, pursing his lips in sullen resentment. «Fine, OK. Keep living in the past, then. Life's changing on Nyvan, in case you hadn't noticed; Govcentral won't always rule here. I know you haven't got as much for this year's crop as you did last year. And do you think Harrisburg's councillors care? Fat arse, do they. You have to move with the times, Amanda, move away from the old colonialist policies. Just don't complain to me when they foreclose and sell the farm from under you.»
«No worries on that score.» She turned to Fakhud, who even managed to look mildly embarrassed. «Time for you to go.»
«You are correct. And I apologize for bringing disharmony to the lives of such decent people as yourselves. I never meant to cause any trouble.»
«Not here,» she said scathingly.
He bowed his head.
Jane appeared in the doorway. «People coming.»
«Who?» Amanda asked.
«Dunno. They're on horses, four of them.»
«Shit.» Amanda glared at Fakhud. «Police?»
«I regret, that is a strong possibility.»
«Oh great. Just bloody wonderful.»
«All you have done is treat a man who claimed to have fallen from his horse. As I told you, it was for the best. It would go badly upon you for harbouring fugitives otherwise.»
«Please, don't use your weapon. My son is here, and the pickers are completely innocent.»
«In the name of Allah the compassionate, you have my word I shall not. Do you intend to turn me over to them?»
Amanda licked her lips, mind awhirl with indecision. He was too proud to plead, holding his head stiffly, though his forehead was beaded by sweat. For the first time, Blake was looking worried, his cockiness dissolving under her stare. The implications of what he'd done were finally sinking in. If nothing else, she was pleased about that.
«I don't know,» she said. If Fakhud was what she suspected then she ought to run out yelling for the police. But . . . the Security Ministry was dealing out a lot of rough justice these days, all in the name of quelling and discouraging the
«Right. The cold cellar?»
«Up to you.» Don't incriminate yourself, think of Guy.
Amanda went out into the farmyard, carefully closing the bottom half of the kitchen door behind her as she went. A big hound was already trotting in through the open gate. It took a considerable effort on her part not to scurry back into the kitchen. The creature must have been genetically modified, powerful muscles flowed smoothly under a short shiny-black hide. Its ancestry was more big game cat than canine.
