Free Son of Heaven by David Wingrove Page B

United Kingdom could only feed ten million people from its own resources. All the rest had to be imported. Well… when things
stopped… when we stopped shipping in food and other stuff… people died. Died in their millions. In their tens of millions.’ He sighed. ‘Sometimes I think it’s
a wonder any of us survived.’
    Tom smiled; a sickly, pained smile. ‘You know what, Jake?’
    ‘What?’
    ‘I find myself wondering sometimes just what’s going on elsewhere. You know… in America and Africa and Europe. Someone must be trying to put it all back together again,
don’t you think? I mean… they can’t just let it stay as it is.’
    Jake shrugged. ‘I guess not. But they’re taking their damned time about it, don’t you think? You’d think someone would have set up a radio station, you know, to get the
news out to everyone. It’s been over twenty years, after all!’
    ‘Yeah, but what’s the point?’ Eddie chipped in. ‘Thar’s no ’lectric to run the sets.’
    ‘That’s true. But there’s those sets you can wind up. We’ve seen ’em at market from time to time.’
    Tom gave a little moan. Jake looked to him at once.
    ‘You all right, Tom?’
    Tom swallowed painfully. ‘It aches. And I think it’s weepin’.’
    Jake had a cursory look. Tom was right. The bandage was wet with blood. He looked about him at the countryside. Wool was no more than a mile away.
    ‘Think you can hang on, Tom? It’ll be fifteen minutes at most.’
    Tom closed his eyes and nodded. He looked drawn suddenly, his face grey.
    ‘Dick!’ Jake called, hailing the wagon in front of him. ‘Think you can up the pace a little?’
    ‘Right-oh!’ Dick called back, putting out an arm in acknowledgement. At once his ponies quickened their pace.
    Jake looked to his friend. ‘We’ll get you there, don’t worry. Get you laid out in a nice comfy bed.’
    Tom smiled weakly. ‘Thanks…’
    Jake was silent a moment. ‘You know what I think, Tom? I think it’s going to take a hell of a lot to get it all back together again. As it is, well… it’s just too easy
to stay as we are… lots of little kingdoms warring with each other. It’ll take a big man to get it all up and runnin’ again.’
    ‘Another Genghis Khan?’
    ‘Or a Hitler.’
    ‘You think?’ Tom shifted a little, trying to get comfortable.
    ‘I think. I mean, whoever’s going to do it, they aren’t going to be nice, are they? Where’s nice going to get them? No. People are harder now, more suspicious.
They’re not going to sign on for anything they aren’t forced to sign on for. And there’ll be a lot of tin-pot kings and so-called “emperors” who’ll not be
willing to hand over the reins of their little kingdoms, so I imagine there’ll be a lot of blood shed setting up our brave new world.’
    ‘And our kids’ll bear the brunt of it, is that what you’re thinking?’
    Jake nodded. He hated to think of it, but it was true. Bad times were coming, and their darlings, their loved ones, would have to face them. All he and Tom could do was prepare them for it.
‘Take our own so-called King of Wessex, Josiah Branagh. You can’t imagine him giving up all his perks without a fight. Unless, of course, he’s allowed to keep it all, nominally . But that’d be no better. No… if someone wants to create something new, then they’re going to have to clear away all of the clutter and build it up from scratch,
and who knows how long that will take!’
    Tom nodded. His eyes were closed now, but he did seem to be listening.
    ‘You know what?’ Eddie said, giving the reins a tug. ‘I think it was a good thing it all came apart. I mean… look at the way things were headin’. Those were bad
times, Jake, as you well know. An’ if we lost some’at, then we gained an awful lot too.’
    Jake couldn’t disagree. Take his own life. He’d been doing well by the system. Very well indeed. The rewards for his job had been phenomenal. By any standard he