The Caravan
Copyright (c) 1994, A.M.Eckard
All rights reserved



                 The Caravan by A.M.Eckard



        I like the veld. What choice do I have? There is nothing but
the veld. It is mostly brown with a little green. It smells of
sage and sand. It is hot in the day and cold at night. The
lexicon in the Feed calls it the Gaia. The lexicon I got from
Dad calls it the veld.

        Dad said I should name things according to the Feed when I'm
talking to the people of the clans. Since no one will see this,
I'll call it the veld. That's what Dad always called it before
he left. Dad showed me how to change the lexicon in the Feed,
but he said I shouldn't do it. He taught me a lot of neat things
before he left. I still come across new messages to me in his
lexicon. He was very good with computers.

        This is the time of the Winding-Down. That's what both lexicons
call it. This is the time of desert and wind. This is the time
of scarcity and drought. This is the time of hunger and thirst.
The Feed says that this was not always so, but it does not say
what was before. There's a lot in Dad's lexicon about it, but I
find it hard to believe. I've thought of editing it out. I don't
because Dad said that was definitely a bad thing to do. 

* * *

        I spend my time traveling the veld. I scavenge in the veld.
Collecting and fixing things is my trade. I trade with the
clans. Dad showed me my JobDesc in the Feed. It said I was a
fixer. I looked up my JobDesc in Dad's lexicon. That said I was
a maker. There was an attachment from Dad with it saying I
should never call myself a maker when I was with the clans. He
said the clans don't have makers anymore. The clans don't want
makers.

        According to Dad's lexicon the clans had traders that did what
I do. The makers would make, the fixers would fix, and the
traders would trade. I guess with fewer people there are fewer
JobDescs. That is all part of the Winding-Down.

* * *

        In the veld I have seen the skeletons of many people. There
were a lot more clans once. They say there were so many clans
that they lived side-by-side. Things have changed. In my own
traveling I have seen fewer and fewer clans.

        The clans don't move around very much. I make my living by
traveling to them. I bury my needs, take my wares, and join them
for a day. I trade what I have to trade and fix what needs
fixing. By nightfall I must leave. That is the clan way. Usually
I camp nearby. I like watching the clans. I have tools to watch
them with that are better than their guards. I can spot Rovers
many klicks away.

* * *

        I spend most of my time on my own. Before Dad left we stayed
together most of the time. It was like we were a clan of two. We
were the only clan of two I have ever seen. Dad said we were a
family. I really don't know what that means. It's not in either
of the lexicons. 

        Dad and I would grow our own food and make our own water. Dad
would visit the clans and trade. I would stay behind and study
the lexicons. Sometimes we would hunt the Rovers when they got
too close. Dad said they had their purpose, too, but not too
close to camp. We would protect the clans from the rovers, too. 

        For a long time Dad wouldn't let me visit the clans. He said
that it was because I was small and this was the time of the
Winding-Down. He said the clans wouldn't accept me. I don't
remember everything he said and the lexicons don't really help
much.

* * *

        There are things in Dad's lexicon that he added. He said he was
the last one who could work on the lexicon. There are some
things in Dad's lexicon that don't exist anymore. In the Feed
they are Deletes. In Dad's lexicon they are Obsoletes. Dad said
they were important because they didn't exist anymore. 

        The best I can figure is that I was an Obsolete. I was a kinder
in a time when there were no more kinder. I changed in a time
when there was no change. I was a begat in a time when there
were no more begats.

        Dad said that there was a Golden Age when mankind tried to stop
change. He said it didn't work and I was part of the proof. 

        I'm not a kinder anymore, so I can visit the clans.

* * *

        There is a part of the Feed and Dad's lexicon that are almost
exactly the same. It concerns the Mystics. It says that after
the Golden Age comes the Winding-Down. It says that women are
barren and men are sterile. It says that all the new souls are
maxed-out. The Bodhis say that no more souls are becoming
incarnate. The Xians say that Judgment is here. The Pagas say
that Gaia seeds men no more. It goes on and on. I guess each
clan has its own way of saying it. But it never really explains
what it is. It just says that it is the Winding-Down and it
doesn't sound good. Dad said that it was not strictly true. He
never said what was strictly true.

        I talked about it with some of the teachers in the clans. The
ones that didn't show me the Feed all said something different.
Some said the Winding-Down was a coming whimper. Some said it
was a coming roar. Most just changed the subject and told me to
be out by nightfall.

* * *

        Dad taught me studying. He taught me to study the veld. He
taught me to study the clans. He taught me to study the
lexicons. He studied with me. He studied me. He never told me
what he saw. There is a section in his lexicon about me, but it
is Access Denied. There is an attachment that is only for me. It
says that I should travel the veld as a fixer. It says that I
will really know myself by what I do. He said that no one should
tell me what I am. He said that I should tell them what I am by
being what I am. Dad spoke that way a lot.

* * *

        I have encountered more traveling clans. They travel, they
said, because the Winding-Down was getting faster and faster.
Some of the clans that didn't travel said that the Winding-Down
was getting faster and faster because of the traveling clans.
Sometimes when I would go back to those clans I would find that
they had picked up and started traveling.

        The traveling clans were good for business. Traveling always
makes things break down faster. There was always a need for my
services. I can always find ways to make something work for
another day. 

        I came to realize that I no longer had to make my rounds. I
could travel North and South along the last of the hills. I
would always come across a clan traveling from East to West. I
had more work than I needed. Sometimes I would sit in the hills
for days and watch the clans go by.

        I spent a long time in the hills. It gave me a feeling of
peace, so I kept it for a while.

* * *

        There came a time when out of the East there raised a cloud of
dust so large I thought I would finally see a storm. It
approached very slowly. I used a spy and saw that it was a group
of people traveling in a line. It was more than a clan. It was a
clan of clans. It was like nothing that has ever been. Instead
of camos they traveled with their colors and flags. I moved in
line with them and waited. Finally they circled in the valley
and stopped. I went down to them.

        The guards waved as I approached. I asked them what kind of
clan they were. They said they were not a clan. They were the
Caravan. Clans were joining them from far and wide. They said
they were passing through. They asked me if I would like to come
along.

* * *

        I had never seen anything like the Caravan. There was nothing
in the lexicons. They spent everything they had on color and
sound and movement. People were actually dancing. Hawkers sold
food and it was very cheap. They had a converter and gave water
away for free. I spent the rest of the first day fixing and
mixing, in awe of their ways. These were not hoarders. These
were not scrabblers in the veld. They were just making their way
through. They were the Caravan.

        I made three trips to the veld to bury my needs. They just
laughed and shook their heads at me.

        I was fixing things that were a delight, but were of no use.
There were bells on wagon wheels. There were chimes on wagons.
There were little colored windmills that turned no wheels. There
were bellows that sounded horns.

        As the evening approached, I helped to raise great tents and
small. When the sun touched the hills I cleaned myself off and
began gathering my things. I would not go far, I thought. I
might follow this group a while.

        I was making for the nearest cover when someone asked me if I
would stay. I just laughed. What else could I do? But they meant
it. They said that I could stay the night. They would be off in
the morning and, if I wanted to, I could travel with them. I
just shook my head no and hurried away. I dug my camp and buried
my wares and watched them.

* * *

        The word Carnival was in Dad's lexicon. It seemed to be close
to what I saw. They danced and played. There were jugglers and
clowns and acrobats. They cooked food in the open and the smells
drifted to my camp. They sang and chanted. It went on for hours
and hours. They burned lights all night long that could be seen
across the veld. When I grew tired I slept, listening to their
music.

        In the morning I helped strike the tents. When the first were
off I stood aside. They all called me friend although I was a
member of none of the clans. They said that clans meant nothing
now. They were members of the Caravan. It was Winding-Down time
and the clans were gone for them. They asked me if I would come
along, if only for just a while. I did.

* * *

        The Caravan traveled and made good time. I helped when things
needed fixing. Everyone called me friend. They said that I
should see the Queen at the next halt and join them. Throughout
the day I considered it. Before this my clan had been only Dad
and me. Dad had been gone for a long time. I decided I liked the
idea.

        As on the previous day, the halt was called in the afternoon.
The Caravan circled. The tents went up. The fires were lit. The
music and the play began. I was sent to see the Queen.

* * *

        The Queen's tent was the largest tent of all. It was decorated
with the colors of all the clans. Everywhere I looked there were
the symbols of the clans and the symbols of all the workers. It
was so fine it made my eyes water.

        The Queen's consorts were all women. They brought me food and
water and welcomed me to the Caravan. They brought me a robe of
Caravan colors and asked me for my sign. I asked them where the
Caravan was going. They told me it was going to the end.

        "This is the Caravan," they said. "We are traveling on the
journey of the Winding-Down and we are traveling to the end."

        They coached me on the form of my formal petition to the Queen.
They laughed and joked and said that I was the first clan of one
to join. Finally they led me to an inner chamber of the tent
where I was brought before the Queen.

        She was a handsome woman with hair slightly touched by gray. I
was taken by her air of knowledge and wisdom. When I looked in
her eyes I was reminded of dad. There seemed to be a similar
light of intelligence and humor and sadness. When I found my
voice I introduced myself to her as her consorts had instructed
me to.

        "I have no clan," I said. "I am a helper and a fixer. I would
be honored if you would allow me to join your Caravan. I will
offer my services freely, and ask only that my needs be met."

        It was at this point in my speech that I had been instructed to
stop. I had been told that the Queen would nod to accept me or
shake her head. I had been told that she never shook her head. I
had been told that I should then bow and leave.

        But I did not. Perhaps it was that she reminded me of Dad.
Perhaps it was that the Caravan was like nothing I had ever seen
and I wanted so badly to become a part of it. Perhaps it was the
curious way she seemed to look into me and see more of me than
anyone ever had. Whatever the reason, I could not contain myself
and I continued on.

        Against my Dad's wishes, I said, "I am a maker. I also can make
things new."

        I could hear a few of the consorts gasp. I looked at the shock
on their faces as they covered their mouths and knew that I had
made a mistake.

* * *

        The Queen stood from her chair and approached me. All eyes were
upon her as she put her finger to my lips and said "Shhhh." Her
hand smelled of sage and balsam. To the amazement of myself and
everyone there, she took my hand and led me into her inner
chambers.

        The others were told to remain outside. She lay down on her bed
and bid me bring a table and chair to her side. Every time I
tried to speak she would touch my lips. She would shake her head
with a frown, but her mouth would barely smile. She brought out
a deck of cards with colors and pictures I'd never seen before.
There were more than in a deck of chance, she explained.

        "I fear the others may have been too eager to invite you to
join our ranks, but we will see," she said. "These are cards of
old. They were called future cards before the Winding-Down. Now
they are the cards that guide us on the path to the end. I use
them to know the way and set our course for each new day. They
once had another use."

        She extinguished the lamps and set four candles down, one on
each corner of the table. The chamber was cool and smelled of
anise and patchouli. Not a breeze stirred the candle flames as
they burned.

        "Come and shuffle the cards as if they were a deck of chance,"
she said, "then cut them three times to your left."

        I did as I was told.

        She spread the cards on the table in a strange pattern and took
a deep breath. She shook her head, but still smiled at me.

* * *

        "Here is the Queen," she said. "I've seen her many times. She
is my card and she sits before you."

        "Here is the Mage, though not  the one I've known."

        When she looked at me I thought of Dad, but said nothing. I was
in awe of her and could not interrupt her words.

        "Here is the ending," she said, "fruits of the seeds our
forebears have sown. There is nothing new here. This is the way
we have come."

        She paused as she turned the next card, then turned a few more.
I believe her hand shook a little as she turned the last. Her
voice had been quiet, but now came even quieter than before.

        "Here is the maker, and here is the crone. Here is a girl-child
and here a boy. Here is a birthing and here a joy. And here is a
soul-star." She started to cry.

        I tried to speak, but again she silenced me. She sat for a long
time with her palms together in front of her face. Tears
streamed from her eyes and she breathed in small gasps. Finally
she blew out three of the candles and took me to her bed.

* * *

        First we made love with a quiet ferocity I had never known.
Then we were tender and savored the moments that seemed like
hours. I told her I loved her and I would travel with the
Caravan forever. She cried then, and shook her head no.

        "We don't have forever, anymore."

        She sat before the single candle and spoke, looking older than
any of the people ever looked.

        "There were makers and fixers once that worked on people
instead of things. It was decided that the people would never
grow old, would never sicken and die. It was decided that
children would not be born and man and woman would live simply
with Gaia. The makers and fixers had their way and planned their
way with Gaia, too. Everything was changed according to a grand
plan."

        "But they hadn't planned well. The Gaia cannot be fixed. Man
cannot be made and fixed. The Winding-Down began."

        "What kind of man are you, maker? How have you come here?"

        I told her what Dad had told me. I told her the secret that I
had been a kinder and I had grown. I told her of Dad's lexicon,
the lessons he had taught me and the lessons that waited for me
still.

        She blew out the last candle, held me close, and told me to
sleep. It was a long time before I could.

* * *

        In the morning I awoke to the sound of her shuffling the cards.
When she saw I was awake she called her ladies with a little
bell and bid them bring me food and water and clothes the colors
of the Caravan. My heart swelled with hope, but her head shook
no. She studied the cards while I dressed and ate.

        "You cannot come with us," she sighed. "We are the Caravan of
the Winding-Down. You must stay here in the veld and wait.
Others will come the way we have come. These are the stragglers,
the lost, the late."

        "You will show them my sign. They will give you what you need,
and you will help them with their needs. They will be like us
and you will show them the way we have gone and send them along."

        "But what about me?" I asked. "What of this Caravan? What about
us?"

        "This is the Winding-Down. Eventually no more will come from
the East. But you must stay. We are not meant to travel the same
path."

        "One day someone will come from the West. Just one, or two, or
a few. You must wait for that day. They will bring you my sign.
Then you must make your own way."

* * *

        She turned from me then, and was gone. The camp was struck. I
watched her Caravan travel out of sight as I have watched
others. With each that has come and gone I have sent a note:



                Will this be the last time, my love?

                The crowds depart.

                All the songs are songs of farewell.

                Everyone seems to have gathered here to leave.

                I am a pilgrim in this land

                and there are things you have not told me;

                things I should have known.



        It has been a long time now. The pain that I felt on her
leaving somehow does not hurt as much anymore. Somehow things
seem to be as they should be. I look to the West and there is
hope. In Dad's lexicon hope is something that hurts but feels
good. Hope is something that grows amidst loss.

        Hope is something I've added to the lexicon of the Feed.