"I mean our present system can't go on. It isn't working."
"Of course it's working," Vivian snapped. "Here we are aren't we? It's
always worked, it always will. Here's the clan. You're our husband.
After we've had you for twenty years, we'll trade you to another clan
for their husband--prevents interbreeding. If you have a fertile son,
the clan will either split, each half taking one husband, or we'll
trade him off for land, or guns, or whatever else is valuable. Of
course, it works."
He shook his head, stubbornly. "Things are changing. For a generation
or two after bomb day, we were in chaos. By time things cleared we
were divided as we are now, in clans. However, we were still largely
able to exist on the canned goods, the animals, left over from the old
days. There was food and guns for all and only a few of the men were
sterilies."
Vivian began to say something again, but he shook a hand negatively at
her, pleading for silence. "No, I'm not talking about myth-legend now.
Warren's great-grandfather, whom he knew as a boy, remembers when there
were four times or more the number of men we have today and when the
sterilies were very few."
Vivian said impatiently, "What's this got to do with the prisoners?
There they are. We can kill them or let them go. If we let them go,
they'll be coming back, six months from now, to take another crack at
us. Alan is cute as a button, but I don't think he should meddle in
women's affairs."
But most of them were silent. They looked up at him, waiting for him to
go on.
"I suppose," Sally said, "that you're coming to a point, dear?"
He nodded, his face tight. "I'm coming to the point. The point is that
we've got to change the basis of clan society. This isn't working any
more--if it ever did. There's such a thing as planned breeding ..." it
had been hard to say this, and the younger women in the audience, in
particular, tittered "... and we're going to have to think in terms of
it."
Sally had flushed. She said now, "A certain dignity is expected at a
clan meeting, Alan dear. But just what did you mean?"
Vivian said, "This is nonsense, I'm leaving," and she was up from the
speaker's table and away. Two or three of her younger girls looked
after, scowling, but they didn't follow her out of the hall.
"I mean," Alan said doggedly, "that one of those Crow women has been
the mother of two fertile men. To my knowledge she is the only woman
within hundreds of miles this can be said about. We men have been
keeping records of such things."
Sally was as mystified as the rest of the clan.
Alan said, "I say bring these women into the clan. Unite with the
Turtles and the Burros so that we'll have three clans, five counting
the Horses and Crows. Then we'll have enough strength to fight off the
forager-hunters, and we'll have enough men to experiment in selective
breeding."
Half of the hall was on its feet in a roar.
"Share you with these ... these desert rats who just raided us, who
killed eight of our clan?" Sally snapped, flabbergasted.
He stood his ground. "Yes. I'll repeat, one of those Crow women has
borne two fertile men children. We can't afford to kill her. For all we
know, she might have a dozen more. This haphazard method of a single
husband for a whole clan must be replaced...."
The hall broke down into chaos again.
Sally held up a commanding hand for silence. She said, "And if we share
you with another forty or fifty women, to what extent will the rest of
us have any husband at all?"
He pointed out the sterilies, seated silently in the back. "It would
be healthier if you gave up some of this superior contempt you hold
for sterile males and accept their companionship. Although they cannot
be fathers, they can be mates otherwise. As it is, how much true
companionship do you secure from me--any of you? Less than once a month
do you see me more than from a distance."
"Mate with sterilies?" someone gasped from the front row.
"Yes," Alan snapped back. "And let fertile men be used expressly for
attempting to produce additional fertile men. Confound it, can't you
warriors realize what I'm saying? I have reports that there is a woman
among the Crows who has borne two fertile male children. Have you ever
heard of any such phenomenon before? Do you realize that in the fifteen
years I have been the husband of this clan, we have not had even one
fertile man child born? Do you realize that in the past twenty years
there has been born not one fertile man child in the Turtle clan? Only
one in the Burro clan?"
He had them in the palm of his hand now.
"What--what does the Turtle clan think of this plan of yours?" Sally
said.
"I was talking to Warren just the other day. He thinks he can win their
approval. We can also probably talk the Burros into it. They're growing
desperate. Their husband is nearly sixty years old and has produced
only one fertile male child, which was later captured in a raid by the
Denver foragers."
Sally said, "And we'd have to share you with all these, and with our
prisoners as well?"
"Yes, in an attempt to breed fertile men back into the race."
Sally turned to the assembled clan.
A heavy explosion, room-shaking in its violence, all but threw them
to the floor. Half a dozen of the younger warriors scurried to the
windows, guns at the ready.
In the distance, from the outside, there was the chatter of a machine
gun, then individual pistol shots.
"The corral," Jean the scout said, her lips going back over her teeth.
Vivian came sauntering back into the assembly hall, patting the stock
of her new tommy gun appreciately. "Works like a charm," she said.
"That dynamite we captured was fresh too. Blew 'em to smithereens. Only
had to finish off half a dozen."