Free The Cast Stone by Harold Johnson Page A

their powers of creation and invoking the protection of God, the historical example of our Liberator Simon Bolivar, and the heroism and sacrifice of our aboriginal ancestors and the forerunners and founders of a free and sovereign nation .”
    The remainder of the page he read louder, as though an oath, “ To the supreme end of reshaping the Republic to establish a democratic, participatory and self-reliant, multiethnic and multicultural society in a just, federal, and decentralized State that embodies the values of freedom, independence, peace, solidarity, the common good, the nation’s territorial integrity, comity, and the rule of law for this and future generations, guarantees the right to life, work, learning, education, social justice, and equality; without discrimination or subordination of any kind; promotes peaceful cooperation among nations and furthers and strengthens Latin American integration in accordance with the principles of non-intervention and national self-determination of the people, the universal and indivisible guarantee of human rights, the democratization of imitational society, nuclear disarmament, ecological balance and environmental resources as the common and inalienable heritage of humanity; exercising their innate power through their representatives comprising the National Constituent Assembly, by their freely cast vote and in a democratic Referendum, hereby ordain the following:"
    Ed stopped for a breath and in the new silence heard the sound of diesel engines, then the sound of military bombproof tires on gravel. He slid down until he was lying in the short barley and looked toward the grid road that ran straight and bare across the earth from horizon to this rise of land where he smelled the dryness of the soil inches from his face. He did not need the binoculars; the convoy of Hummers raised a cloud of ashen dust that sped toward him and toward the people in the loft at Abe’s place.
    He kicked the straw away from the blocks of industrial Styrofoam, poured the plastic bottle filled with a mixture of diesel fuel and gasoline, struck a lighter to the fuel, waited a long second and another, until he was sure that the flame had taken, then ran; ran hard for the river to the east, to the valley where the river wandered between steep banks and willow and aspen grew thick and would hide a person from the sky. The burning foam billowed a greasy black finger of smoke upward behind him as he ran crouched. His knapsack with the little blue book, a little food, water, a mirror, and an industrial laser bounced on his back.
    â€œ Out! Out! ” Abe yelled into the loft. People scrambled, all laughter died at the sight of the black smoke in the distance climbing into the sky.
    â€œI’ll drive,” Monica almost shouted as she and Ben ran up to his truck.
    Abe stood at the gate and designated the vehicles leaving the yard, spreading them to the four directions. “Go north and at the first intersection take the west road.”

    â€œSo, how’s your day going?” The ferryman leaned into the passenger side window of the truck, rested his elbows on the door.
    â€œSo far, so good,” Ben answered.
    The flat-bottomed ferry angled in the current of the South Saskatchewan River, followed the cable strung shore to shore. Its diesel engine rumbled and tugged against the cable, drew it into the little house and expelled it again out the other side, drawing the six-car ferry toward the far bank of aspen and the winding lane of gravel that ended abruptly where the heavy wooden planks marked the landing. Monica stared straight ahead, watched that landing draw incrementally closer.
    â€œWould it be all right to get out and walk around a bit?” Ben asked.
    â€œOh, hell, yeah, everyone does. People just love to see water.” The ferryman stepped back so that Ben could open the door. “Takes about seven minutes to get across,” he added as he turned to talk to