The rays of the twilight sun shot up from behind the western mountains in spectral shafts of orange; the intercepting hills were silhouetted in brownish black, emphasizing their incredible height, their fortress-immensity. The lake was a huge sheet of very dark glass, polished beyond the ability of man, reflecting the massive shadows of the mountains and the streaks of the orange sun.
They walked down the slope of the clearing to the stone fence bordering the grazing field. At the far left was a gate; Daniel approached it, unlatched the large single bolt, and swung it open. He gestured McAuliff to go through.
'I apologize for my outburst,' said the minister as they walked into the field. 'It was misdirected. You were a victim, not an aggressor. We realize that.'
'And what are you? Are you a victim? Or an aggressor?'
'I am the Minister of Council. And we are neither. I explained that.'
'You explained a lot of things, but I still don't know anything about you,' said McAuliff, his eyes on a lone animal approaching them in the darkening field. It was a young horse, and it whinnied and pranced hesitantly as it drew near.
'This colt is forever breaking out,' laughed Daniel as he patted the neck of the nervous animal. 'He will be difficult to train, this one... Hyee! Hyee!' cried the Halidonite as he slapped the colt's flank, sending it kicking and prancing and snorting towards the centre of the field.
'Maybe that's what I mean,' said Alex. 'How do you train... people? Keep them from breaking out?'
Daniel stopped and looked at McAuliff. They were alone in the large pasture, awash with the vivid colours of the dying Jamaican sun. The light silhouetted the minister and caused McAuliff to shield his face. He could not see Daniel's eyes, but he could feel them.
'We are an uncomplicated people in many ways,' said the Halidonite. 'What technology we require is brought in, along with our medical supplies, basic farm machinery, and the like. Always by our own members, using untraceable mountain routes. Other than these, we are self-sufficient on our lands. Our training - as you call it - is a result of understanding the immense riches we possess. Our isolation is hardly absolute. As you will see.'
From childhood, Daniel explained, the Halidonite was told he was privileged and must justify his birthright by his life's actions. The ethic of contribution was imbued in him early in his education; the need to use his potential to the fullest. The outside world was shown in all its detail - its simplicities, its complications, its peace and its violence; its good and its evil. Nothing was concealed; exaggeration was not left to young imaginations. Realistic temptation was balanced - perhaps a bit strongly, admitted Daniel - with realistic punishment.
As near to his or her twelfth birthday as possible, the Halidonite was tested extensively by teachers, the Elders of the Council, and finally by the minister himself. On the basis of these examinations, individuals were selected for training for the outside world. There followed three years of preparation, concentrating on specific skills or professions.
When he or she reached sixteen, the Halidonite was taken from the community and brought to a family residence on the outside, where the father and mother were members of the tribe. Except for infrequent returns to the community and reunions with his own parents, the outside family would be the Halidonite's guardians for a number of years to come.
'Don't you have defections?' asked Alex.
'Rarely,' replied Daniel. 'The screening process is most thorough.'
'What happens if it isn't thorough enough? If there are - '
'That is an answer I will not give you,' interrupted the minister. 'Except to say the Maze of Acquaba is a threat no prison can compete with. It keeps offenders - within and without - to a minimum. Defections are extremely rare.'
From the tone of Daniel's voice, Alex had no desire to pursue the subject. 'They're brought back?'
Daniel nodded.
The population of the Halidon was voluntarily controlled. Daniel claimed that for every couple that wanted more children, there invariably was a couple that wanted fewer or none. And, to McAuliffs astonishment, the minister added: 'Marriages take place between ourselves and those of the outside. It is, of course, unavoidable and, by necessity, desirable. But it is a complicated procedure taking place over many months and with stringent regulations.'
'A reverse screening process?'
'The harshest imaginable. Controlled by the guardians.'