The following morning they followed the creek along a short gully and through a gap in the sandhills to where it flowed into a little bay enclosed to the north by steep clay cliffs and to the south by a line of rocks. The sun shone on sparkling water, the air was fresh and sweet, seagulls wheeled overhead. Pelicans dived for breakfast. They stripped and ran laughing into the water. The sand sloped steeply to a pool created by swirling tides, that remained deep enough for swimming even at low tide. The day was spent lazing around, talking, sleeping, thinking. After some persuasion they agreed to learn Bridge using cards Bart had brought with him. To their surprise they discovered it was an extraordinarily absorbing game, and quickly became hooked, demanding more lessons.
After three days of total laziness—recharging their batteries as Sanjay liked to say, they decided to explore south to see where the private road ended—perhaps there was an old homestead. Perhaps they could buy food. Wearing shorts and backpacks they negotiated the base of low rocky cliffs that after half an hour veered several hundred metres into the sea. Instead of following the shoreline they clambered up and discovered it was a narrow peninsular. Below, a rock splattered, muddy looking beach stretched into the distance. The water was turbid and shallow, and behind the low sandhills, scrubby, desiccated vegetation did not invite exploration. The only visible life was a group of naked men, women and children playing volleyball, paddling, sunbathing or sitting under large sun umbrellas.
‘What'll we do?’
‘Join them.’
‘Not with our shorts on, they’ll think we’re perverts.’
‘Then we’ll take them off.’
Five minutes later they were apologising for arriving unannounced on the private beach, reassuring the locals they were friendly, had no idea it was a naturist colony, were hoping to find food to buy, and meant no harm. Their apologies were cautiously accepted and an elderly man, who introduced himself as Jacob, the owner of the place, took them through the sandhills to a dusty track that separated his decaying holiday house and tiny shop, from a camping ground containing several tents and about twenty caravans.
Three naked women, several children and two old men were in the store being served by Jacob’s equally elderly wife. After stocking their backpacks with enough food for a week, they returned with Jacob to the beach where they joined four other men and two women on a canvass groundsheet in a tent with the side flaps rolled up to let the breeze through.
After introductions, they were invited to go for a swim or play volleyball. The sea looked unattractive, and an argument between seven teenaged girls and boys playing volleyball didn’t invite their intrusion.
‘Thanks, but we’re comfortable here. How long have you had this place?’
‘Nearly thirty years. The wife and I bought the place for holidays, invited a few people we knew were nature lovers, and they kept coming back, so we made it a camping ground. Never advertised, just word of mouth.’
‘I assume you're all aware of the new laws about females exposing themselves?’
‘Yes, but no one ever comes out here. Why would they? It used to be a great swimming beach but a typhoon last summer totally stuffed the place—filled the bay with mud and flattened all the trees back there.’ He indicated the hinterland.
‘Yeah. It used to be really beautiful here—great swimming.’ The speaker looked to be in his forties. ‘The kids aren't so keen to come any more.’
‘You're right. It’s not the same—nothing is. Even food doesn't taste like it used to.’
The men all laughed, clearly at ease in each other’s company.
Several women wandered over, nodded at their guests and sank into deck chairs.
‘I think you're all incredible brave,’ Hylas said, looking at the women, ‘How can you be sure you haven't been spotted by satellites or planes?’
‘We can’t.’
‘I think you're taking a dreadful risk; not the men, but you women. You risk appalling punishment if the Protection guys come.’
‘Surely not, this place is private property.’
‘The property might be private,’ Robert’s face was creased by a frown. ‘But the beach isn't. And judging from our personal experience of JECHIS officials, I’d say you're taking a grave risk by assuming they would consider your camping ground and store to be private.’
‘What're you all talking about so seriously?’ an attractive young woman asked as she joined the group . ‘You all look so solemn. Come on, lighten up.’
‘It is serious, Adele. These young men say we’re not safe from the JECHIS police and you girls should be worried.’
‘Ha! Those cretins don’t worry me. I know how to get around men.’
‘They aren't normal men, Adele,’ Bart said carefully. ‘They’re religious lunatics who act without thought or compassion.’
Adele stood and sauntered over to Bart, cupping her hands seductively under her breasts, flirting with large, expressively calculating eyes. She was extremely attractive, despite her somewhat common accent and behaviour. ‘Surely, officer, you don’t object to a woman dressing like Eve?’ She reached out and stroked Bart’s cheek.’
He shook his head, obviously irritated. ‘Bad choice of role model, Adele. Eve is the reason for their distrust of men—she tempted Adam into evil. I don’t doubt you’ve managed to bend many a susceptible man to your will, but Protection Officers aren't normal men.’
She pulled abruptly away. ‘You mean they're queer, like you?’ The tone was deliberately offensive.
‘I’m not queer; I’m one of the naturally occurring ten percent of males who can appreciate women for qualities other than sexual availability. I can see you're an attractive, strong-willed woman who is used to getting her way with men, but I repeat my warning. Don’t try it with JECHIS.’
‘You're making me worried,’ a middle-aged woman said nervously into the slightly embarrassed pause. ‘Have you really had dealings with them?’
‘Yes. And with some top administrators. Believe me you do not want to meet them!’ Fidel gazed out to sea, wishing he wasn’t there. He’d had a sudden premonition of disaster and couldn’t look at anyone.
‘We saw what happened to a woman on the beach in Hervey Bay who was wearing a modest one piece swimsuit,’ Bart said softly. ‘It wasn’t nice. None of you women will survive if they find you naked.’
‘But… but…’ The woman’s mouth opened but she couldn’t speak.
‘They're not going to ring ahead to warn you they're coming. Have you a plan in case they suddenly arrive?’ Arnold asked?
‘No. What do you suggest?’
‘Keep a twenty-four hour lookout at the gate down the road, with a phone programmed to simultaneously ring every other phone on this estate if strangers approach. That will give females time to dress themselves. That means all women must carry suitable garments with them day and night.’
‘Would you mind telling everyone else this? They’ll take you more seriously than me.’
‘Of course not, call them over.’
Fifteen minutes later, every female in the colony was back on the beach carrying a small bag containing suitable clothes she could slip on in seconds. While they practised the art of instant dressing, the men drew up a sentinel roster and worked out how to program the phones.
The children thought it was fun; their parents realised it was deadly serious and became increasingly nervous.
‘What about us men?’ a teenage youth asked.
‘If Protection Officers arrive it'll be because they know you're nudists, so men and boys must remain naked. To do otherwise would be very suspicious. If they ask about the women, be honest and say they used to be naked too, but when they learned of the new laws they decided to comply. JECHIS aren't concerned about males. Surely you’ve heard their rationale?’
‘Something about men being made in god’s image?’
‘Exactly! And that makes us perfect so we’re praising god by merely existing, whereas if women expose their inferior bodies it’s not only an insult to god but tempting men to sin. Adam and Eve and all that. Forget individual rights—we no longer have any. If we don’t do as we’re told when they're watching us, then we deserve what we get.’
‘But why are they so cruel?’
‘It may be cruel but it’s also natural. It’s the way humans have gained and held onto power since they chose civilization over hunter gathering. It’s usually been a double act—a warlord controlling the hordes through fear of punishment in this life, and witchdoctors maintaining their influence through fear of eternal punishment after death. In this modern theocracy the witchdoctors are also the warlords.’
‘But I thought the world was getting more liberal, more tolerant, more peaceful?’
‘It seemed like it in a few wealthy countries, but it was an aberration caused by a shortage of labour after two world wars, favourable climatic conditions, four thousand million fewer humans so there was plenty of food and water, and fairly distributed wealth. The labour shortage enabled workers to organise and demand rights never before accorded. It was a brief Golden Age that lasted a mere thirty years, from the early sixties through the eighties, when we reverted to the normal state of human civilization in which less than one percent of the population own ninety-nine percent of the planet’s wealth, leaving the other seven or so billion humans to struggle in poverty in an increasingly hostile world. The rise of JECHIS isn't strange; all nations are now more or less police states ruled by dictatorial governments no longer paying even lip service to democratic ideals or human rights.’
‘But I thought this was a secular country.’
‘Australia has never been a secular state. Politicians both state and federal have always been religious men and women using their avowed religiosity to gain votes. Thousands of years of propaganda has fooled people into thinking religious people are honest and moral, whereas the truth is the opposite. Religious indoctrination has always well as in the proliferating religious schools. Creationism has always been treated as an equally valid theory to evolution, and all Governments have been in thrall to religious corporations that mould public opinion in support of capitalist companies, supported by extreme right wing media monopolies. Multiculturalism is the greatest scam of all time. It’s just another name for multi-religionism, and inevitably led to social instability making the JECHIS take over like stealing lollies from children.’
‘An apt analogy.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Then we ought to fight!’
‘Sure, if you want to die horribly. They’ve got the government, the guns, the media, the banks, the schools, the religious dickheads, the courts, the cops…what've you got?’
‘Then… what must we do?’
‘What humans have always done; conform and obey without complaint in public, and be yourself when it is safe. They aren't stupid enough to expect everyone to believe them. They know we don’t want to be downtrodden slaves; they don’t care if we hate them and everything they stand for as long as we’re not a threat to their power. That's all they want. As long as you are not a danger to their authority, they’ll leave you alone.’
‘That's a lot to think about. Will we see you again?’
‘Yeah. We’ve enough food for three days, we’ll come back then and see how you're going.’
On the second day, three black helicopters flew low overhead, heading south, landing shortly after. Obviously on the nudist beach. Two hours later they returned. Two flew on, one separated when over the five men who were swimming, and landed on the beach just above the high-water mark. Three black-clad Protection Officers jumped out and took up positions covering all parts of the bay, rifles at the ready.
Led by Bart, the friends walked calmly out of the water and approached politely.
‘How many people are staying here?’
‘Only us five, sir.’
‘How long?’
‘Another couple of days, then we’ve got to get back on the road.’
‘Where’re you going?’
‘Up north looking for work.’
‘No women?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Show us where you're staying.’
The officers inspected the campsite, admired the vehicles, refused a cup of tea, and then asked if they’d been along the beach to visit the other people.
‘Yeah, we went once, but too many kids. We wanted a quiet holiday.’
‘What are they like?’
‘Boring, like most families. The men were friendly enough, but the women just kept to themselves in the shade.’
‘Dressed?’
‘Of course. Must have been hot though. I’m glad I'm not a female.’
‘Aren't we all.’ The Officer in charge produced a card. ‘This number is a direct line to our recruiting office. The Protection Service always needs healthy men like you. Worth considering if you don’t have any luck finding jobs wherever you're going.’
‘Yeah? That sounds pretty good. What's the pay like?’
‘Excellent.’ He nodded at his mates. ‘Ok, time to go.’
The five men walked back to the beach with the officers and watched as they lifted off and disappeared over the trees.
‘Bizarre.’
‘Very.’
‘I wonder what happened down the beach.’
‘Well, we’re not going to find out till we’re sure they’ve gone and not spying from a nearby hilltop—tomorrow at the earliest.’
The following morning they surveyed the nudist beach from the top of the peninsular. It was empty. No volleyball, no sun shades, no deck chairs. They scrambled down and went in search of Jacob. He was sitting outside his shop, staring into space. He looked up when they approached.
‘You're alive.’ It was a statement devoid of feeling. Having made it he returned his gaze to his feet.
‘Where is everyone?’
‘Gone.’
‘Your wife?’
‘Gone.’
‘What happened?’
‘They came.’ Jacob looked up. His face empty of expression; his voice when he eventually spoke was devoid of inflexion and so soft they had to strain to hear. ‘Nine men in black. Pleasant. Said they’d seen naked women on satellite photos and asked nicely enough if we knew the law. We said what you told us to. They seemed to accept that and asked to see the rest of the place. Everyone relaxed. We weren't in trouble. Several people even smiled and asked if they'd like something to drink. Then suddenly that mad bitch Adele marched up to the leader and said it was crazy that women were treated differently from men. He calmly replied that it was the law and she ought to respect it. She shouted, stuff you, tore off her headscarf and opened her shift, exposing those tits she was so proud of. The cops just stood there, faces blank, so she started flirting exactly like she did with you and every other man she met. It was her game. But she’d only said two words when the cop slashed at her with his whip stick. She screamed, fuck you. Then two cops grabbed her arms, ripped her dress off, shoved her onto her back and lashed her wrists and ankles to spikes the other cops hammered into the sand. The kids and most of the women began screaming until the cops started hitting them. Then we were told to go and get half a dozen cricket-ball sized stones each. We just stood in shock till they threatened us with their sticks. So we picked up lots of small rocks, hoping they were only trying to put the fear of their god into us. Surely they weren't serious. But they were. We had to get in a circle and throw stones at Adele until she was dead. The head cop said if we wanted to be kind, aim for her head as hard as we could. But we couldn’t move. Suddenly Adele’s husband, Andrew, the nice bloke you were talking to, yelled fuck you bastards, and threw his stone at the leader. Hit his helmet but didn’t hurt him. Without blinking the cop raised his pistol and fired. Andrew’s head exploded. We started throwing immediately. It took ages. I had no idea a human could take so long to die. Finally, the cop put his pistol to the bloody mess that was her head and pulled the trigger, then they all got into their helicopters and took off, leaving us to clean up.’
His five listeners stood in horrified silence for several minutes. No one could find anything to say.
Jacob shook his head as if confused. The worst part was that once I started throwing I wanted to kill Adele. I hated her for putting us in that situation. For making the police angry. For endangering all of us. I wanted her dead and silently cursed her and I wanted to hurl rocks at her. She was a self-willed woman, but not a bad person. We all liked her. I'm sure from the way everyone behaved afterwards that they all felt the same. Instead of hating those bastards, we hated our friend! How is that possible?’
‘No idea, but you are not to blame, the law is. If you'd behaved differently even more people would have suffered.’
‘My wife and the other women say it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have opened up the camping ground this year, knowing the law.’
‘They are wrong. You are not your brother’s or your sister’s keeper. What're you going to do?’
‘Going away. I only hung around to tell you and thank you for trying to prevent it.’ He held out a quavering hand.
They all shook it, tears of sympathy streaming.
‘I can’t even cry.’ He said dully through a sigh that came from the depths of his being. He turned and stumbled back to his little store where he waited until the five nice young men were far enough away not to hear the shot.