Renewal 3 - Your Basic Swiss Family by Jf Perkins Page B

and only three times on one of our own.”
    Terry nodded silently as Bill spoke. He was listening carefully as they walked ever more slowly.
    “Come on Judge! You lost your guns, not your legs.” Bill said. This completely failed to motivate Jerry Doan Jenkins.
    “You’ll end up in the same place either way. If you stop wasting time, we may give you some lunch,” Bill said, more loudly. Now, the Judge picked up the pace, if not by much.
    Terry was beginning to sweat in the midmorning sun. The hot day promised in the early mist had arrived, burned the air clear, and was probably pushing ninety degrees. He was thankful when the group passed into the shade of a mature section of forest, consisting mostly of the local blend of oaks and poplars. These trees were ideal for the community’s purposes. Each tree made a perfect support for a tangle of heavy ropes and platforms that extended through the woods in a chaotic network.
    They stopped the Judge near the base of a massive poplar. The branches had been cut clean to the main trunk for at least eighty feet upwards, and two solid looking platforms were attached, one at about sixty feet, and another smaller perch, just below the canopy at about eighty feet. A classic rope bridge extended from the upper platform to the nearest tree on the right, about forty feet away, which had three layers of platforms. A third tree, on the opposite side of the one they were facing, was a near-twin, with three more platforms, but lacking the rope bridge. Those two companion trees held young men on the mid-level, standing with assault style rifles, apparently ready for trouble.
    Kirk gave an intricate hand signal, and one of the tree-guards climbed up to the top level of the guard tree on the right, worked his way across the rope bridge, and kicked a huge bundle off the top platform of the apparent prison tree. The young man then attached himself to the tree with a leather strap. The rope ladder uncoiled on its long trip to the ground, and the tree guards raised their rifles, aiming at the lower platform. The rope ladder bounced and swayed when it hit the ground, quickly settling to a gentle back and forth.
    “I hope you’ve been getting your exercise, Judge. It’s a long climb.” Bill said, shooing the Judge up the ladder.
    Jerry Doan Jenkins looked ready to argue, but then gauged his situation with a practiced eye, and began to climb. It was almost five minutes before the Judge flopped onto the naked wooden platform, panting and sweating. He was surprised to find that two of his men from the advance party were sitting on the platform already. The Judge had assumed they were all dead. The men looked back at him with hooded eyes and closed expressions.
    The guard began to reel in the rope ladder. The Judge sat quietly and watched until the end of the ladder passed overhead and out of reach. He probably considered giving the thing a pull, but then he remembered the safety strap and just let it go.
    The young guard completed the coil and tied it to the trunk of the tree to prevent it from falling accidentally or blowing off its perch in high winds. He unbuckled his safety strap, wobbled back across the rope bridge and took his post on the middle platform of the guard tree. Terry had to admire the thought that had gone into the system. The platforms for the guards had a minor advantage in height, so that they would have a complete view of whatever was happening with the prisoners. With guards on either side of the prisoners, there was literally no place to hide. The guard level had a heavy wall, which could be used for cover. The prison platform had no protection at all, and was large enough to hold three or four men, but not large enough that those men could, say, take a nap without fear of rolling off the edge in their sleep. It was bound to result in some tired, edgy prisoners in a very short time.
    Bill pointed out a fourth tree, growing farther into the woods. It held a full scale tree