drove the economy, Ash. I even had a farm in Kentucky for a while. Me, a farmer. Can you imagine?”
He dropped the manacles upon the stone with a clang that echoed around them. “Utterly boring for the most part. But I do remember one evening. I’d been riding and stopped at the crest of a hill. The sun was on the horizon and the sky was a beautiful darkening red, the clouds soft pink and the upper tops of the trees just tipped with shimmering purple leaves. Quite, quite beautiful.” Savage sighed and his eyes were distant, as if he was still looking at that sunset.
“Down the slope and all the way to that horizon were cotton fields with line upon line, endless regiments, of slaves. Men, women, children. All collecting the white tufts with their dark, nimble fingers. My overseers rested under a tree and their horses grazed by a large pond. There was a perfect peacefulness about it. But how they sang, Ash. No choir of angels could have matched it. It was a tribal song from their home in Africa, mixed in with a hymn they had been taught, so it was both familiar and exotic. Hundreds of voices, in perfect, simple harmony. The children wouldn’t have been old enough to have learned it in Africa; it was a uniquely American creation, this song. No free man would have sung it with equal passion. Do you know why?”
“Do tell me.”
“Slaves are free in a way no one else is. They have no responsibilities. They worry about nothing. Their needs are simple: food and shelter. Their duties are simple: to work and ask no questions. They know where they will be this year, the next, the year after that and for ever. If they do what they’re told, they will be taken care of. That is why childhood is such a blessed state. Deep down, people can’t deal with their lives. They want to be taken care of. That evening was the most perfect moment of my long, long life. They were content and untroubled. Happy, Ash. As close to happy as a person can be. On my farm we needed no manacles. No whips, no threats.”
“You really believe that?”
“Look at what happens when you give people freedom, choice. Invariably they make a mess of things. What is democracy but rule of the mob?”
“Let me guess – this is where you suggest it would all be better if you were in charge?”
Savage’s eyes darkened. “I’ve seen the future, and humanity will leave only ashes.” He spoke with cold conviction. “Time mastery isn’t just backwards, it’s forward as well. I’ve glimpsed the future … futures. It’s in a state of flux, but one thing they all have in common is that mankind destroys itself. It may be war, it may be overpopulation, pollution, global warming … All dangers we can see right now, but no one with the will or ambition to do what is necessary.”
“And what’s that?”
“Be happy with less. It really is that simple. Food, shelter. And life. But people pursue unsustainable goals. More cars. More luxuries. More food. More this. More that. Like parasites you only consume, and sooner than you think you will devour your host. Then what? You cannot eat money, nor drink oil.”
“So you want us to be happy with a bowl of rice?”
“In a few years there will be catastrophic climate change. Drought for some countries, torrential rain for others. Crops globally will be destroyed. Wars will erupt as nations fight to control resources. Then, Ash, when you see cities filled with starving populations, where they will eat the wallpaper and their shoes and finally each other, you will be very happy for some rice. I would save the world such pain.”
“And how are you going to do that?”
Savage smiled. “With shock and awe.”
Chapter Fifteen
S avage led Ash out of the sanctuary and gestured to a staircase. “You’ll see better what I mean from outside.”
Ash hesitated. Should he let Savage just gloat? That was why he was showing Ash all this. It was typical arrogance. But he’d come this far. He had to know what
He dropped the manacles upon the stone with a clang that echoed around them. “Utterly boring for the most part. But I do remember one evening. I’d been riding and stopped at the crest of a hill. The sun was on the horizon and the sky was a beautiful darkening red, the clouds soft pink and the upper tops of the trees just tipped with shimmering purple leaves. Quite, quite beautiful.” Savage sighed and his eyes were distant, as if he was still looking at that sunset.
“Down the slope and all the way to that horizon were cotton fields with line upon line, endless regiments, of slaves. Men, women, children. All collecting the white tufts with their dark, nimble fingers. My overseers rested under a tree and their horses grazed by a large pond. There was a perfect peacefulness about it. But how they sang, Ash. No choir of angels could have matched it. It was a tribal song from their home in Africa, mixed in with a hymn they had been taught, so it was both familiar and exotic. Hundreds of voices, in perfect, simple harmony. The children wouldn’t have been old enough to have learned it in Africa; it was a uniquely American creation, this song. No free man would have sung it with equal passion. Do you know why?”
“Do tell me.”
“Slaves are free in a way no one else is. They have no responsibilities. They worry about nothing. Their needs are simple: food and shelter. Their duties are simple: to work and ask no questions. They know where they will be this year, the next, the year after that and for ever. If they do what they’re told, they will be taken care of. That is why childhood is such a blessed state. Deep down, people can’t deal with their lives. They want to be taken care of. That evening was the most perfect moment of my long, long life. They were content and untroubled. Happy, Ash. As close to happy as a person can be. On my farm we needed no manacles. No whips, no threats.”
“You really believe that?”
“Look at what happens when you give people freedom, choice. Invariably they make a mess of things. What is democracy but rule of the mob?”
“Let me guess – this is where you suggest it would all be better if you were in charge?”
Savage’s eyes darkened. “I’ve seen the future, and humanity will leave only ashes.” He spoke with cold conviction. “Time mastery isn’t just backwards, it’s forward as well. I’ve glimpsed the future … futures. It’s in a state of flux, but one thing they all have in common is that mankind destroys itself. It may be war, it may be overpopulation, pollution, global warming … All dangers we can see right now, but no one with the will or ambition to do what is necessary.”
“And what’s that?”
“Be happy with less. It really is that simple. Food, shelter. And life. But people pursue unsustainable goals. More cars. More luxuries. More food. More this. More that. Like parasites you only consume, and sooner than you think you will devour your host. Then what? You cannot eat money, nor drink oil.”
“So you want us to be happy with a bowl of rice?”
“In a few years there will be catastrophic climate change. Drought for some countries, torrential rain for others. Crops globally will be destroyed. Wars will erupt as nations fight to control resources. Then, Ash, when you see cities filled with starving populations, where they will eat the wallpaper and their shoes and finally each other, you will be very happy for some rice. I would save the world such pain.”
“And how are you going to do that?”
Savage smiled. “With shock and awe.”
Chapter Fifteen
S avage led Ash out of the sanctuary and gestured to a staircase. “You’ll see better what I mean from outside.”
Ash hesitated. Should he let Savage just gloat? That was why he was showing Ash all this. It was typical arrogance. But he’d come this far. He had to know what
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