Micah began to speak in a rush. It was as if Cal had merely reached over and turned a volume knob behind his brother-in-law’s ear, as if Micah had been talking all this time, and Cal just hadn’t heard him.
“I go about once or twice a year. August goes on his own the other times, as often as he can. Aside from bringing them information, we also trade fresh produce and cow’s milk, that kind of thing. You knew that. Sometimes we bring them fish from the stream or barrels of our soil, which I guess is really something else. If you asked anyone on the Land, they’d tell you that Pines loves what we have to offer—the shit we make is artisanal.”
“So—what then? August walks into Pines with a bucket of dirt?”
“I wish. The journey is hard, with the state the roads are in, but it’s not impossible once you know the trouble spots. We take the bus. Did you see it, on your trek here?”
Cal nodded. He remembered the pristine school bus.
“We have permits, which are updated at each visit, contingent upon our behavior, our information. There are more people allowed into the Communities than you think. It’s pretty easy to fill out the paperwork.” He waited for Cal to say something, perhaps to express surprise, but Cal said nothing.
“Communities have to communicate with one another,” Micah continued. “It’s obvious, I guess, but I never thought about it until someone explained it to me. It’s more efficient for these guys to work together. Sometimes, at least.”
Cal only spoke because he could tell Micah wanted questions to answer. “Work together on what?” he asked.
“For starters, shipments from outside arrive at one Community, and they need to be distributed to another. People need their coffee from the cartels in Mexico, right? It’s cheaper for a shipment to be delivered to one Community, and then have it exported from there. Easier to negotiate prices.”
A grin crept across Micah’s face, and Cal could tell he was just getting warmed up.
“Communities are all about being private and secure, but in reality their borders are more porous. As long as you don’t draw attention to yourself, you’re good. Our bus looks like the ones all over Pines, so when it arrives, people are happy to look the other way. Most residents don’t want to see outsiders. At all.”
“Is what you have to offer to Pines really so valuable that they let you come and go as you please?”
Micah raised an eyebrow. He tapped his wrist, as if there were a watch on it. “Think about it, Cal. What do the Communities have to offer their citizens?”
Cal shrugged. “Jacuzzi tubs? Air-conditioning? Schools?”
Micah shook his head. “Yes, but all that shit represents one thing.”
“Money.”
Micah sighed, impatient. “Again, true. But money can’t be depended on anymore. We’ve seen that, again and again.”
“What then?”
Micah smiled. “Safety, Cal. What the people behind those gates want, and what they’re willing to give up anything for, is safety. They want to sleep knowing that their house won’t get robbed. They want to meet a friend at a wine bar without worrying that some maniac will blow himself up as they catch up over a bottle of Riesling.”
That had happened in San Francisco not long after Micah’s bombing at the mall: a man strapped with explosives walked into a restaurant in the Financial District, and ten seconds later everyone was dead. A week after that one, Palo Alto’s Community announced it would be adding a new luxury neighborhood that would offer twenty-four-hour patrolling guards. A Community in Marin took another tactic and capped its membership at three thousand. The bigger the population, they argued, the harder it was to vet its members and remain safe. New members would pay a premium to live in a small and secure village with like-minded neighbors.
“Was the Group behind the other bombings?” Cal asked.
“The one in San Francisco was orchestrated by an allied organization,” Micah said. “The others, I was led to believe, were copycats.”
“What about now? What have you been led to believe now?”
“The Community that’s safe is successful,” Micah said. “That’s their value. The safest Community can raise its membership fees and dictate prices when trading with other Communities. Once or twice, a rich Community has bought out another, less successful one.”
“And you provide safety?”
Micah smiled.
“Do you, Micah?”
“I have my eyes and ears open—you already know that. I tell the guys at Pines who’s out there and what they need to worry about. I report that there’s a young healthy couple from L.A. living in the woods, but they’re harmless. Or that there’s a man and his teenage wife ten miles from here, that they’re weird but too stupid to be a threat. The Land provides a travel barrier between Pines and the small outcropping of settlements to the south.” He paused. “Since we got here, the Pirates have ceased wreaking havoc in the area, and they no longer skulk around the edges of Pines. That was bad for business.”