{"id":49793,"date":"2016-01-01T01:08:54","date_gmt":"2016-01-01T01:08:54","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/?page_id=49793"},"modified":"2016-01-01T01:17:41","modified_gmt":"2016-01-01T01:17:41","slug":"the-colored-lens-15-spring-2015","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/?page_id=49793","title":{"rendered":"The Colored Lens #15 \u2013 Spring 2015"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><a name=\"start\"><\/a><br \/>\n<a href=\"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/01\/CoverDraft.jpg\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-49798\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/01\/CoverDraft-790x1024.jpg\" alt=\"CoverDraft\" width=\"790\" height=\"1024\" class=\"aligncenter size-large wp-image-49798\" srcset=\"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/01\/CoverDraft-790x1024.jpg 790w, http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/01\/CoverDraft-231x300.jpg 231w, http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/01\/CoverDraft-768x996.jpg 768w, http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/01\/CoverDraft.jpg 1271w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 790px) 100vw, 790px\" \/><\/a><br \/>\n<center><br \/>\n<FONT SIZE=7 STYLE=\"font-size: 48pt\">The Colored Lens<\/FONT><\/center><\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\"><br \/>\n<FONT SIZE=6><center>Speculative Fiction Magazine<\/center><\/FONT><\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\"><br \/>\n<FONT SIZE=5 STYLE=\"font-size: 20pt\"><center>Spring 2015 &ndash; Issue #15<\/center><\/FONT><\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\"><br \/>\n<BR><br \/>\n<\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\"><br \/>\n<FONT SIZE=5><center>Featuring works by David Cleden, Robert Dawson, Sarena Ulibarri, Drew Rogers, Jamie Lackey, Ashley Rose Nicolato, Derrick Boden, Brian Ennis, Aaron Grayum, Barry Corbett, Mark Hill, Aidan Doyle, and Jim Lee.<\/center><\/FONT><\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\"><br \/>\n<FONT SIZE=5><center><br \/>\n<\/center><\/FONT><\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\"><br \/>\n<BR><br \/>\n<\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\"><br \/>\n<FONT SIZE=5><center>Edited by Dawn Lloyd and Daniel Scott<\/center><\/FONT><\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\"><br \/>\n<BR><br \/>\n<\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\"><br \/>\n<FONT SIZE=5><center>Published by Light Spring LLC <\/center><\/FONT><br \/>\n<\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\"><br \/>\n<FONT SIZE=5><center>Fort Worth, Texas<\/center><\/FONT><\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\"><br \/>\n<FONT SIZE=5><center>&copy; Copyright 2015, All Rights Reserved<\/center><\/FONT><\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\"><br \/>\n<BR><br \/>\n<\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\"><br \/>\n<FONT COLOR=\"#000080\"><SPAN LANG=\"zxx\"><U><center><A HREF=\"http:\/\/www.TheColoredLens.com\/\"><FONT SIZE=5>www.TheColoredLens.com<\/FONT><\/A><\/center><\/U><\/SPAN><\/FONT><\/P><br \/>\n<\/center><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"margin-bottom: 0in\"><BR><br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak \/><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal\"><br \/>\n<a name=\"TOC\"\/><\/a><br \/>\n<a id=\"TOC\"\/><\/a><\/p>\n<h1 align=\"center\">Table of Contents<\/h1>\n<ul>\n<li><a href=\"#wheel\">Turn of the Wheel<\/a> by David Cleden<\/li>\n<li><a href=\"#souvenir\">Souvenir<\/a> by Robert Dawson<\/li>\n<li><a href=\"#whales\">When the Waves are Whales<\/a> by Sarena Ulibarri<\/li>\n<li><a href=\"#doing\">The Things We Should Be Doing<\/a> by Drew Rogers<\/li>\n<li><a href=\"#mutable\">The Mutable Sky<\/a> by Jamie Lackey<\/li>\n<li><a href=\"#cost\">At Any Cost<\/a> by Ashley Rose Nicolato<\/li>\n<li><a href=\"#first\">First Try<\/a> by Derrick Boden<\/li>\n<li><a href=\"#ashika\">Ashika<\/a> by Brian Ennis<\/li>\n<li><a href=\"#always\">Good Guys Always Win<\/a> by Aaron Grayum<\/li>\n<li><a href=\"#mortal\">This Mortal Coil<\/a> by Barry Corbett<\/li>\n<li><a href=\"#tehran\">The Clones of Tehran<\/em><\/a> by Mark Hill<\/li>\n<li><a href=\"#rat\">Space Rat Black<\/em><\/a> by Aidan Doyle<\/li>\n<li><a href=\"#feud\">Blood Feud<\/em><\/a> by Jim Lee<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<p><\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak \/><br \/>\n<a name=\"wheel\"><\/a><H1 LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"font-weight: normal; page-break-before: always\"><br \/>\n<FONT FACE=\"Times New Roman, serif\"><FONT SIZE=6>Turn of the Wheel<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/H1><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBy David Cleden<\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n<em>The surgeon hesitates, bathed in the harsh lights of the operating theater, scalpel poised above the patient\u2019s exposed abdomen.  The patient\u2019s skin is slick and yellowed by the antiseptic swabs, not really human at all-\u2013like the flesh of some alien creature.  Now, as with every surgical procedure, he senses a moment, a turning point where outcomes are yet to be determined&#8211;and briefly revels in the uncertainty.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe will know soon enough.  Just one touch will tell him.  Success or failure, life or death&#8211;and all before an incision has even been made.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nDistantly, he hears the drone of another wave of bombers heading out on a night raid, delivering their payload of terror and destruction by order of Bomber Command.  Whose turn tonight, he wonders?  Hamburg or Dresden or perhaps Berlin itself?<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAround him, the anesthetist and theater nurses wait patiently for him to begin.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe feels paralyzed; unable to move.  He cannot bring himself to touch the body.  Seconds tick by.  Minutes.  There are anxious glances but no one dares disturb the silence.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAt last he takes a long, shuddering breath, wills the trembling in his hands to cease, and makes an incision.  He draws the scalpel downwards in a smooth motion, a line of red beading behind it.  He repeats the movement, this time parting layers of subcutaneous fat with deft strokes.  As he does so, the strangest feeling comes over him:  the sensation of something pushing back, struggling to free itself from the body, slipping and wriggling out through the wound.  For an instant he thinks he sees something move past his blade; insubstantial and tenuous, like a barely perceptible waft of smoke.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHesitating, a nurse steps closer to swab sweat from his brow.  He resumes his work, but now the tremors are back.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThis will all be for naught, he thinks.  The patient will die no matter what I do.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAh yes.  Just another turn of the wheel.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBut one word crowds into his thoughts.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nEnough!<\/em><br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJohn knocks and enters.  He is at once struck by the gloom.  Small windows set high in the wall and cross-hatched with blast tape admit little of the wintery afternoon sunlight.  A single, underpowered bulb hangs from the ceiling, casting its jaundiced, ineffectual light onto the jumble of manila folders on the desk&#8211;some, John notices, bearing the unmistakable stamp of the War Office.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe makes it a rule never to touch bare skin, but old Postlethwaite has already risen from behind the desk proffering a hand, and ingrained social habits die hard.  Before he can stop himself, John reaches out.  Briefly he has time to wonder if his superior will notice the hand tremors which seem to have worsened.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSuch irony!  Under different circumstances, <em>this<\/em> might be the affliction to end his surgical career.  But it\u2019s nothing more than a nervous tic; the fa\u00e7ade behind which his true demons lurk.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nTheir hands clasp and the curtain drops momentarily across John\u2019s vision as it always does at the touch of another\u2019s skin.  There is no real tactile sensation, no tingle or spark of electricity&#8211;merely a dimming of his sight, like a slow blink.  Then a moment later, vision returns.  And like an after-image burnt onto his retinas, the number is left behind.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n<em>24,913<\/em><br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAh.  Long enough, John thinks.  No need to trouble himself with a calculation.  Enough, perhaps, even to outlive this interminable war.  Dr Postlethwaite may yet enjoy a peaceful retirement.  You can, after all, live a long time in twenty five thousand heartbeats.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe Senior Registrar nods at the vacant chair and John sits.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI have the papers, John,\u201d he begins without preamble, \u201cbut I won\u2019t approve them.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJohn blinks away the last remnants of the number.  \u201cI\u2019ve made my decision.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cAnd a bloody silly one it is too.  If it\u2019s danger you want, you can find it right here.  Half of London is charred rubble.  We\u2019re digging people out with our bare hands some nights.  It takes just as much courage to stay behind and fight on the home front, you know.\u201d  He sighs.  \u201cYou\u2019ve all the makings of a fine surgeon, John.  We need people like you.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJohn passes a hand across his face but he cannot wipe away the tiredness he feels.  He wants to shout, <em>Can\u2019t you see that my nerve has gone?  Surely you\u2019ve heard the rumors?<\/em>  Instead he says, \u201cI\u2019d stay if I could.  But they need medics at the front too.  Maybe I can be of some use after all.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nDr Postlethwaite lays the papers aside.  He removes his glasses and polishes them absently on his sleeve.  \u201cLook.  The damned Luftwaffe has us all under strain, night after night.  You have family?  Go and visit them.  Take yourself out of the city for a while.  We can spare you for a week.  Then we\u2019ll talk again.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAfter a moment, John gets up to leave.  This time they do not shake hands and he is at least grateful for that.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJohn walks the streets without purpose.  It\u2019s easy to become lost, the familiar London side streets transformed by the bomb craters that now pockmark the city.  Gap-toothed rows of grey tenement buildings push up from piles of still smoldering rubble, where bustling thoroughfares ran only days before.  He thinks, <em>all I have ever wanted to do is help people.  Make them better if I can.  And now it\u2019s all slipping away from me.<\/em><br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe advent of war has finally explained a mystery that has puzzled him since his schooldays.  Why the curiously low number of so many classmates, seemingly destined never to see thirty?  Now he understands the chilling certainty of so many lives pre-ordained to be cut short.  He suffers the knowledge in dreadful silence.  What else can he do?  Who would believe him?<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe has watched for other signs in his behavior and thoughts, for hints that what might only be self-delusional beliefs are metamorphosing into true insanity.  But how would he know?  Could he ever trust his own judgment?<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThen too, he has prayed for this ability (no, this curse) to wither and fade, or to be proven erroneous&#8211;anything that means he no longer sits in judgment over others, knowing merely from the briefest touch the span of their lives.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAnd what of his own number?  Ah, but cruelly that is beyond his reach.  The one person in the entire world that he cannot fathom in that way is himself.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe turns his collar up as the rain falling out of low-slung grey clouds becomes heavier.  He is on the point of turning for home when ahead of him a young woman stumbles on a broken paving slab and falls.  For a moment she lays sprawled in a puddle as rain soaks into her winter coat.  Then she is uttering a string of unlady-like curses as John instinctively reaches to help her up.  A bus rumbles by, seemingly only inches away, its spray soaking them both.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHer wrist is slim and delicate like a child\u2019s.  He has time to see her flash a tired, grateful smile and then\u2013-unbidden&#8211;the curtain drops across his vision.  When it rises the young woman is standing awkwardly, reaching down to massage her twisted ankle, still muttering under her breath.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n<em>Double digits.<\/em><br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJohn frowns.  He must have made a mistake.  Such a number cannot possibly be right.  The woman (girl, really) can be no more than early twenties; fit, healthy, vibrant with youth.  He closes his eyes, tries to catch the number again, but it has gone.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThanks,\u201d she says, brushing ineffectually at the scuff marks on her coat.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cAre you sure you\u2019re alright?\u201d John asks.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cFine.  Bloody coat is ruined, though.\u201d  She shrugs, laughs lightly, obviously unharmed, the flush of embarrassment still in her cheeks.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHope surges through John.  If he can be wrong about this number, he can be wrong about any of them!  All of them, maybe.  Thus the spell breaks&#8211;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe girl is turning to leave.  John reaches out, wanting to touch her skin again, to put his hand on her cheek.  Instinctively she steps back from him, suspicion and anger on her face.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry, I just&#8211;\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe girl hurries away leaving John standing in the rain.  She crosses the road, turning back to glance suspiciously at John halfway across.  She does not see the taxi hurtling out of the gloom, but the squeal of tires is loud above the hiss of the rain.  The girl is spun round and tossed into the air to land in a crumpled heap in the road.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nFor a long time, nothing in the world seems to move.  Not John, the rain drumming against his skull as he stands motionless.  Nor the taxi driver&#8211;frozen into immobility, his eyes wide and staring, hands gripping the steering wheel convulsively.  And certainly not the girl lying in the road like a lifeless rag doll.  Only the rain keeps falling.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nEventually John turns away.  He finds a quiet alleyway and is violently sick until his stomach is dry and aching.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThey come pouring out of the cinema\u2014grumbling, grim-faced or just plain scared.  Against the blaring of the air raid sirens, an ARP warden is shouting orders.  \u201cDown the street.  Turn left.  Down the steps into the Tube.  Come along, now.  Get a move on!  Nearest air raid shelter&#8211;down the street, turn left&#8211;&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJohn tries to push his way through the crowd.  On impulse, he seizes a woman\u2019s hand.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n<em>319<\/em><br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cOi!\u201d  A rough-looking man in uniform with a day\u2019s stubble on his chin shoves John backwards.  \u201cKeep yer hands off my girl.\u201d  John reaches up to touch the man\u2019s forehead, for all the world as if taking his temperature.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n<em>305<\/em><br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWhat the hell&#8211;&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJohn is thrust sideways, colliding heavily with another man.  John seizes his bare forearm, partly to stop himself falling.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n<em>285<\/em><br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cHey!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cDon\u2019t go that way!\u201d John pleads.  \u201cStay away from the shelter.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nTwo young women stare at him open-mouthed.  He grabs at them, like a drunkard.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n<em>272<\/em><br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n<em>266<\/em><br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cBloody disgrace,\u201d someone says.  A fist jabs at him.  There is a sharp pain in his chest and suddenly he is fighting for breath.  \u201cNot down to the shelter,\u201d he wheezes.  \u201cNot safe.\u201d  His legs are kicked from under him.  As he goes down, he reaches for a bare ankle just in front of him.  A woman shrieks.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n<em>246<\/em><br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSomeone kicks him hard in the ribs and the world seems to recede.  More blows follow.  Moments later he is hauled upright again.  \u201cWhat\u2019s your game?\u201d the ARP warden demands.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cGot to get people away from here.  Not the shelter&#8211;&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cNot bloody likely.  Safest place for all of us.  Been drinking, have we?  Best you come with me, mate.\u201d  A hand slips inside his jacket and withdraws his ID papers and ration book but John wriggles free.  He crashes into more cinema-goers, cannoning off them like a pinball until at last he is free of the crowd, running, tears streaming down his face.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nNow the wail of the air-raid siren is supplemented by the drone of aircraft overhead.  Moments later comes the banshee shriek as the first bombs begin to fall.  He keeps running, even as explosions begin to rock the buildings around him.  He only stops when the blast wave from the biggest and loudest explosion close behind sends him sprawling.  Tomorrow he will learn from the grim report in The Times that it has destroyed the road outside Balham Tube Station, bringing water and sewage tunnels crashing down onto the northbound platform where several hundred people have sought shelter.  68 people die on this grim night.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nPerhaps, he thinks, I should have gone done there with them.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nWhen John returns to the hospital the following week, Dr Postlethwaite does not ask to see him.  Instead, John finds a brown envelope stuffed into his pigeon hole.  Inside are his call-up papers.  He leaves the hospital without saying goodbye to a soul.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nTwo thirds of the way up the forest-covered slope, John spots movement to his right.  Private Walton is gesturing urgently.  <em>Enemy ahead.  Close.<\/em>  Walton\u2019s eyes are gleaming with excitement.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJohn finds cover behind the thick bole of a pine tree and peers out cautiously.  He can see nothing but waist high ferns covering the slope, a blanket of dappled greens and browns.  Mature pines rise upwards every few yards, spreading their canopies high and wide.  All day they have been blundering around in this shadowy twilight, playing their game of cat-and-mouse with the Germans.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe looks again where Walton is indicating.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nNothing.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThen, like one of those trick drawings that suddenly shifts to reveal a different image, <em>something<\/em>.  The tank, a MkIII Panzer most probably, is draped with camouflage netting, only the squat black muzzle of its 50mm cannon showing.  Just an hour ago they heard the growl of its engine, tracking it through these endless woods, trying to circle round from behind.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe engine is quiet now, the whole forest unnaturally still.  Then there is the unmistakable rasp of a match flaring, two or three syllables of muttered German ending in what might be a tired laugh.  Yes, close.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nFurther to his right, Lieutenant Jackman rises to a crouch gesturing Private Walton to follow.  The rest of the company is to stay put.  The blacking on Jackman\u2019s face makes his expression unreadable, but his eyes are burning brightly with cold determination.  John knows him to be a taciturn, domineering man whom he does not entirely trust.  The two men move away soundlessly and are lost to view.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSeconds become minutes.  The silence settles more deeply over the forest.  Then&#8211;a flurry of movement, a startled cry, the clang of metal.  A figure scrabbles up through the hatch, only to be flung to the ground by an unseen assailant.  But the falling German pivots and looses a burst of sub-machine gunfire, shockingly loud.  More shouts.  Fire is returned from somewhere out of sight, three short rifle shots.  Then the muffled <em>crump<\/em> of a hand grenade exploding and from inside the tank a column of thick, oily smoke pours skywards.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cMedic!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJohn begins to crawl towards the burning tank.  At any moment he expects to hear the rattle of a machine gun and feel bullets tearing through his tunic.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cFor god\u2019s sake, stop crawling around on your belly like a bloody worm.\u201d  John looks up to see Jackman standing over him, cradling a German MP-40 sub-machine gun like a new-born infant, his own rifle slung nonchalantly over his shoulder.  \u201cOver there.  Quickly.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nIt is Walton, his face white as a ghost\u2019s, eyes closed.  Blood is soaking into the ground from the front of his tunic which has been shredded.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWork fast,\u201d Jackman says.  \u201cWe can\u2019t stay here.  Where there are scouts, the main division won\u2019t be far behind.  What can you do for him?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJohn lifts Walton\u2019s pale, limp wrist, not even making the pretense of checking the pulse.  The soldier\u2019s eyelids flutter and he moans feebly.  After the necessary few moments, John lets go of the wrist.  \u201cNothing I can do for him.  Maybe if we were nearer a field hospital&#8230;\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYou\u2019re sure of that?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI\u2019m sure.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cNothing?  You\u2019ve barely examined him.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJackman\u2019s cold blue eyes stay on him for a long time.  They both know that carrying a wounded man will slow them down.  The very survival of the company depends on speed.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJohn makes no reply.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJackman unbuckles his service revolver, checks there\u2019s a round in the chamber.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWait&#8211;!\u201d John says.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJackman raises an eyebrow.  \u201cThe boy doesn\u2019t deserve a lingering death.  He doesn\u2019t need to suffer.\u201d  On impulse, he flips the revolver, presenting the butt to John.  \u201cIt\u2019s the least you can do for him.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJohn stares at the revolver.  Eventually he says, \u201cI\u2019ll do what I can to make him comfortable.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJackman holsters the revolver again.  \u201cYou do that.\u201d  To the rest of the men, he calls, \u201cMove out!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThey assemble a makeshift stretcher from branches and tunics.  John is surprised when it is Jackman who helps him ease Walton onto it, hoisting one end with John taking the other.  Wordlessly, they move off into the forest.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBy candlelight in their makeshift bivouac, he changes Walton\u2019s dressings again.  He\u2019s running a fever, yet the boy is wracked by uncontrollable bouts of shivering.  In one of his more lucid moments, the young soldier\u2019s hand grips John\u2019s and their eyes meet briefly but uncomprehendingly.  Then Private Walton slips into something resembling sleep.  The only sign that he is indeed still alive is the occasional soft moan.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nA touch on John\u2019s shoulder makes him start.  \u201cHow is he?\u201d Jackman asks.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cStill dying,\u201d John says.  \u201cSame as before.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYou\u2019re pretty bloody sure of that, aren\u2019t you?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJohn freezes in the act of repacking his medical kit.  The words hang in the air between them as if reluctant to depart.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI\u2019ve watched you,\u201d Jackman continues.  \u201cBeen watching you for a while now, in fact.  And you know what troubles me?  You fight like crazy for some of the wounded lads.  You\u2019re like a terrier then.  You just won\u2019t let go.  Even when it seems hopeless, when you\u2019re beyond exhaustion and having to shove their guts back in with your bare hands or sew up some tattered stump in the mud&#8211;you don\u2019t give up.  You\u2019re a genuine miracle-worker.  And then there are the other boys you barely look at.  Oh, maybe you check their pulse or mop their fevered brow, but not much more than that.  You just turn your back on those men.  And then they die, almost as if you know it\u2019s going to happen.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJohn makes to stand up.  \u201cJust leave me&#8211;&#8221; but Jackman pulls him down again.  \u201cWhat\u2019s your secret, eh?  Do you enjoy deciding who lives and dies?\u201d he whispers in his ear.  \u201cAre you getting your kicks playing god out here on the battlefield?\u201d  After a moment he lets go and John pulls free.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJohn stares out into the darkness.  How could there possibly be a god in this forsaken place?  \u201cDo you think I\u2019m some kind of monster?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI don\u2019t know what you are.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJohn checks Walton is comfortable and squats down in the shadows.  \u201cLong ago,\u201d he says, \u201cI was told a story about a strange little boy, a bit of a wild boy, who grew up out in the country.  He didn\u2019t have many friends but that didn\u2019t matter to him.  He liked his own company best.  Some of the villagers thought he wasn&#8217;t right in the head, and that may have been true because after a time he came to believe he possessed a weird, impossible talent.  Not the kind of talent that most young boys develop&#8211;an aptitude for sport or climbing trees or farting the first verse of \u2018God Save The Queen.\u2019  Something much darker, a kind of forbidden knowledge: an ability to foretell death.  He believed he could tell&#8211;to the exact number&#8211;how many heartbeats were left in a person\u2019s life at any given moment.  All from one brief touch.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJackman is watching him with the same intensity a hunter regards its prey.  \u201cRidiculous.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cOh yes.  It\u2019s that alright.  The boy was clearly deluded, or just plain mad.  Because to live with that kind of knowledge, to be reminded each day with just a casual touch, or a handshake, or a brush of lips on the cheek, which of your friends and family will be taken from you and when&#8211;to the nearest hour or minute&#8211;that kind of knowledge would drive anyone to insanity, wouldn\u2019t it?  Pity that boy.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cOnce he dreamt of studying medicine.  How pathetic is that?  He wanted to cure people, make them well, yet nothing he did could ever make a difference after he discovered the terrible truth.  You see, he believed&#8211;no, he <em>knew<\/em>&#8211;that everyone has a number, a secret number.  No one knows what that number is&#8211;except for him.  Quite literally he could tell you when your number would be up.  But try as he might, he couldn&#8217;t find a way to change it.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWho was this boy?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cOh just a boy in a story.  It\u2019s a tale my father used to tell me around the camp fire, probably the same one his father told him.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWhat kind of idiot do you take me for?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n<em>What kind would you prefer?<\/em> John thinks, but wisely stays silent.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJackman takes a long, deep breath.  Eventually he says, \u201cThis isn&#8217;t finished with, but now isn&#8217;t the time.  Get some sleep.  We\u2019ll move out under cover of darkness and begin the attack at first light.\u201d  He looks over to where Walton lays.  \u201cMaybe you\u2019re right about him, maybe not.  It doesn\u2019t matter.  We\u2019ve come too far to turn back.  I have the mission to think of.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cNo turning back,\u201d John echoes.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nWhen the screaming starts, the timing can hardly be worse.  The company is scattered just below the ridge line.  Beyond lies the iron trestle bridge spanning the deep gorge which bisects the landscape.  The men are tense, keyed up for battle.  Jackman\u2019s pre-dawn briefing is stark.  This is one of only two possible crossing points for Hermann G\u00f6ring\u2019s army on its relentless push westwards.  There may be no better chance to halt its momentum, even if only temporarily.  Document remnants recovered from the Panzer hint that the bridge is only lightly defended but heavy reinforcements are less than a day away.  This, Jackman emphasizes, is their moment for glory.  Generaloberst Gerhardt Weckmann himself is expected to be at the head of at least five divisions intent on making the crossing, most probably within the next 48 hours.  Denying them this bridgehead will stall progress for days if not weeks, giving the Allied forces a key advantage.  This may be, Jackman says, his eyes gleaming, a crucial turning point.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u2018Lightly defended\u2019 turns out to mean a garrison of at least forty German soldiers, with more patrolling on foot through the wooded slopes on either side of the valley.  Pitted against them is Jackman\u2019s platoon of fifteen exhausted men, one of whom is stretcher-bound.  It hardly seems a match.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAt the sound of Private Walton\u2019s tortured screams, Jackman, some fifty yards ahead, signals frantically and John rips a sheet of muslin into strips, stuffing them into the man\u2019s foaming mouth.  He has nothing better to offer.  The effect is negligible.  Whatever private hell Walton is enduring continues in muffled fashion, threatening to bring down a different kind of damnation on the rest of the platoon.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAs the cracks of rifle shots begin to echo around the valley, John takes Walton\u2019s pulse again.  Weak, erratic.  The man\u2019s flesh is cold and lifeless.  And the number&#8230;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe remembers Walton telling them about home, the farm somewhere in the Dales that will one day be his upon his father\u2019s retirement.  And of the pretty brunette in the next village he was courting when his call-up came, the girl he plans to marry.  Dreams of a different life in the midst of this nightmare.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe feels a sudden, desperate anger.  Walton, the rest of them, don\u2019t they deserve their chance of happiness, of a life?<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJohn closes his eyes, summoning the number.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n<em>Change, damn you!<\/em>  He pushes harder than he has ever dared push before, harder than he thought possible.  He senses something slipping from his grasp, greasy and elusive, close yet just out of reach.  Again he pushes, but it\u2019s like going up against some rusted mechanism that will not budge; a wheel that will only turn in one direction no matter how hard he pushes against it.  If he can just find a way to squeeze another hour\u2019s life back into the boy.  It might be enough to get him back to proper medical facilities in time.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe can\u2019t do it.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe number ticks downwards with each fluttering beat of the boy\u2019s heart.  He will be dead soon; certainly by nightfall.  As might they all.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSuddenly Jackman flings himself down next to him.  \u201cA lightly armed patrol,\u201d he shouts into John\u2019s ear above the crack of rifle fire.  \u201cWe\u2019ve lost the element of surprise, but we still might be able to push them back to the bridge.  We can pin them down while a couple of the men rig explosives.  If I\u2019m right about Weckman\u2019s division&#8230;  Imagine if we could throw a spanner in his works!  Damn!  It\u2019s a gamble but we won\u2019t get another chance like this.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nYes, a gamble that could cost all of them their lives.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJackman casts around, noting the dug-in positions of the platoon with a practiced eye.  Then he turns to John and says quietly, \u201cWhich is it to be?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJohn stares at him in astonishment.  \u201cWhat?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJackman grabs John\u2019s arm and brings his hand up until it is touching the side of Jackman\u2019s dirt-streaked face, like a lover tenderly caressing a cheek.  Unbidden, the number swims into John\u2019s head.  \u201cTell me!\u201d Jackman shouts above the rifle fire.  \u201cDo I order the men to press on?  Tell me if I survive the next hour!  Will the attack succeed?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJohn pulls his arm back.  \u201cIt doesn\u2019t work like that.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cJust tell me the damn number!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBut Jackman\u2019s number means nothing.  Suppose he lives?  The price for this might be a heavy one paid by the rest of the company.  And if he dies, that doesn\u2019t necessarily mean they are all lost or that the sabotage fails.  There is no way of knowing the outcome, but the wildness in Jackman\u2019s eyes tells John that rationality counts for nothing at this moment.  Heroes are not forged in moments of bravery and courage, John thinks, but blind stupidity.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cPull back,\u201d John says quietly, knowing it really makes no difference.  Somewhere, the future is already written in heart beats.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJackman\u2019s eyes bore into him but, swearing under his breath, he gives the order and the men begin to retreat.  Jackman glances at Walton, begins to unclip his revolver.  They both know everything now depends on speed.  Alerted, German patrols will be hunting tirelessly for them.  Two men to man-handle a makeshift stretcher, two men less to fight with&#8211;the odds are poor.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cNo.  I\u2019ll stay behind with him,\u201d John says.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cDon\u2019t be a bloody&#8211;&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI said I\u2019ll stay.\u201d  John\u2019s rifle is raised, pointing at Jackman.  The barrel wavers in his trembling hands.  Just as well the safety catch is still on.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cCan you do anything for him?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cNo.  But I won\u2019t leave him either.\u201d  The faint after-image of Jackman\u2019s number is still blurring his vision.  It should be Walton\u2019s number, too.  He wishes there was a way to swap them.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSwiftly, the company is gone, the crack of rifle-fire receding with them.  John turns back to Private Walton, grasping clammy hands in his.  He closes his eyes.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nIs he beyond help now?<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nCome on!  <em>Come.  On.<\/em><br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nIn all his years of experimenting, first with a pet rabbit, later with creatures that he trapped in the woods, he has never found a way to add to the number.  The wheel turns only one way; the grains of sand do not flow back into the hour-glass.  Yet still he tries, concentrating, reaching through and beyond those clammy hands to push at the coldness creeping into the other man\u2019s soul.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nUseless.  Nothing.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nWalton groans.  His eyelids flutter.  John pushes once, briefly, in a different way.  Walton settles, becomes still and calm.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe next thing he feels is the barrel of a rifle pressing into his neck.  \u201cH\u00e4nde hoch oder ich schie\u00dfe!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJohn raises his hands slowly.  A knee in the small of his back forces him down and he lies prone next to the Walton.  \u201cI have information,\u201d John says urgently, in broken German.  \u201cImportant information.  If you spare my life.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWhat information?  Tell me!\u201d the German soldier replies in equally fractured English.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI can only reveal that to Generaloberst Weckmann himself.  Take me to him immediately.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe soldier casts a sneering look at John.  \u201cYou are nothing but a lowly medic.  Not even a real soldier.  A disgrace to your homeland.  What could you possibly have of value to him?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cAllied troop movements.  Our army is not as weak as you believe.  A trap is being set for your divisions.  Are you prepared to explain yourself to Generaloberst Weckman if this information is not disclosed to him in time?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe soldier glares at him.  The barrel of the rifle pushes deeper into his chest.  It could still all end here, John thinks.  But the soldier is weighing up what he has said.  He is thinking, if I shoot him now, will it matter if this isn\u2019t a bluff?  Weckmann will never get to know.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cGet up.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThey leave Walton lying in the undergrowth.  <em>Could I have done more?<\/em> John wonders.  Did he really believe he could bargain for more time?  The wheel turns only one way.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nGeneraloberst Weckmann is an important man.  Popular with his men, he is also influential amongst the Wehrmacht High Command.  His opinions are listened to, his abilities respected as a ruthless tactician.  He is the sort of man that events and battles hinge upon.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n<em>When I meet him,<\/em> John thinks, <em>he will be suspicious.  I will need to convince him I am a traitor.  But before he can uncover the truth, I will congratulate him on his clever strategies and ask to shake his hand.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThen&#8211;<\/em>a push, <em>because now I understand the deal that has been made.  It\u2019s as I\u2019ve known all along:  the wheel turns only one way.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAnd I will<\/em> take <em>from him as much as I can.<\/em><br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak \/><br \/>\n<a name=\"souvenir\"><\/a><H1 LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"font-weight: normal; page-break-before: always\"><br \/>\n<FONT FACE=\"Times New Roman, serif\"><FONT SIZE=6>Souvenir<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/H1><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBy Robert Dawson<\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nLet me just freshen your glass, Lera darling, and we\u2019ll go into the garden to see my latest treasure!  But can I trust you with a secret?<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nYou remember how, just before the last time I went back to being a girl, I went on the Grand Tour for seven months?  With Teldon?<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nNo, not a whisper from him, not since Ringwinter.  And my spies tell me<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI\u2019m the one who should be asking you, darling, anyway!  Well, I booked us a sinfully luxurious suite on the <em>Andromeda<\/em>, and we went everywhere: Valirette, Holalasha, Nuevo Per\u00fa, Yeldi, all the most exotic worlds you can imagine.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nYes, darling, it really is true about the night life on Valirette.  Teldon went quite wild in the clubs &#8211; you know what he can be like!  Of course, at our age, we\u2019ve seen it all, haven\u2019t we? And done it.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nLet\u2019s go out through the herb garden. Watch your step! Do try one of these leaves.  It\u2019s stensiga, just a nice buzz, hardly addictive at all. No?  Well, maybe later?<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAnyhow, as I was saying, Holalasha was an utter disappointment.  We\u2019d looked forward to seeing the Ice Caverns \u2013 well, doesn\u2019t everyone? But after we landed, they told us that they were four hundred kilometers away, and no heliport!  We\u2019d have had to take a bus, and spend a night in a nasty local hotel. They showed us a stereo of the rooms, just so shuddersomely primitive: no sensies or even gravbeds!  So I told Teldon, if he wanted to go he could, but I was going to stay on board in the suite I\u2019d paid for. In the end he stayed: I think the silly boy thought I was angry with him about that birdgirl in the mud pit at the Casino Valirette.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nWell, I may be a century-and-who\u2019s-counting, but I\u2019m not a prude. And besides, the last time this girl got seriously jealous over anything, Teldon wasn\u2019t even born. After all, if I was the jealous type, we wouldn&#8217;t still be such good friends, would we, darling?<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBut Yeldi, now! You\u2019ve seen stereocasts of the Yeldian Flower Jungle, haven\u2019t you?  That was one thing I was absolutely not going to miss.  Even though the uncouth natives who run the so-called tourist agency there put us through the most absurd nonsense. (Do watch the thorns on that one! Very nasty.)<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBefore we even got off the ship, we got this idiotic lecture about not touching anything, and had to put on bodysuits with helmets \u2013 like space suits.  No air tanks, just filters, but utterly, utterly uncomfortable, especially as my hair was right down to my derriere then, and it all had to fit into my helmet. And the stink \u2013 my dear! I don\u2019t suppose they ever bother cleaning them, and I think they use the same ones for tourist class passengers. They said the suits were to keep the insectoids away from our skin. Apparently their venom puts you in a coma, and then they inject their larvae and \u2013 you don\u2019t want to hear the rest. Trust me.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAnd after all that, the guide wasn\u2019t even a botanist. Just an enormous Yeldian native, two meters tall, and she didn\u2019t even speak System! Fortunately we had a crewman along to translate.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBut the jungle itself?  Lera, the stereocasts don\u2019t show you the half of it. All the leaves are dark, dark reds, blues, and purples, like velvet. Even darker than these hexaploid coleus over here.  We went at dusk, after Kinna, that\u2019s the bigger sun, had set, so they looked even darker. And you have never, ever seen so many flowers!  They came in every size, from huge flowers on the trees a meter across to shrubs with tiny flowerets you need a magnifier to see. And all in more colors than you can begin to imagine. Then Merax set too, and the flowers started to glow, pulsing slowly. And the scent! I was in heaven, darling. Heaven. Even Teldon was impressed.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThere was one kind of flower, trumpet-shaped and the most perfect robin\u2019s-egg blue. Each one was about half a meter long, only the narrow part was coiled up in a shape that made your eyes go all funny if you tried to follow it, like one of those clever exhibits in the Topology Room in the Imperial Museum.  The guide took out a pocket light, and showed us insectoids, like flying jewels, as big as a fingernail, flying in and out.  The odd thing was, if you watched some flowers, one insectoid after another would fly in, as if the flower was sucking them up and destroying them.  Quite sinister.  And other flowers were just the opposite; the bugs kept flying out, as if the flower was spawning them.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nTeldon asked about that. He\u2019s quite clever. About some things, anyway. The guide said something, very low and rumbly, and the translator said these insectoids were the ones that \u2013 well, you know. And then she said something else, and the translator said some nonsense about these flowers, all over the planet, being joined together in the fourth dimension. But maybe he hadn\u2019t understood properly. Probably some local superstition or other.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHere we are, Lera!  My prize! Yes, you guessed, didn\u2019t you? I was very naughty, and smuggled back a few seeds from that gorgeous blue corkscrew-flower plant. They actually searched us, can you believe it?  I planted the seeds this spring. Only one germinated, but isn\u2019t it wonderful?  And it\u2019s flowering this week for the first time ever. Doesn\u2019t it smell marvelous?<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nA bee? Bees aren\u2019t green. No, of course I don\u2019t know, angel. I\u2019m a gardener, not an entomologist. How many legs does it have? Can you see?<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nLera! Did it sting you? You really shouldn\u2019t have got so close. You will understand if I stay over here, won\u2019t you?<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nNo, darling, I don\u2019t think there\u2019d be much point calling them. I don\u2019t think there\u2019s any treatment. And, do you know, I think I may have told you a fib. Maybe I was just the tiniest bit jealous about Teldon after all.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak \/><br \/>\n<a name=\"whales\"><\/a><H1 LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"font-weight: normal; page-break-before: always\"><br \/>\n<FONT FACE=\"Times New Roman, serif\"><FONT SIZE=6>When the Waves are Whales<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/H1><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBy Sarena Ulibarri<\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe day before I left to go to sea, I went to visit Alana. She was an aunt or cousin of some distance, but when I was a boy my city was at war and my parents had sent me to stay with her, through the mountains to where the slopes dipped into the sea.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI knocked on the door, though I should have known better. She was not the type to be sitting quietly inside, knitting or reading like my mother, especially on a sunny day like this when the wind rocked the water into gentle waves. Finding no answer at the door, I looked to the garden, where she had once taught me the healing properties of various herbs, where we had once sung the old shaman songs together to encourage the plants to grow.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe garden overflowed with bright blooms, but Alana wasn&#8217;t there. I found her sitting on a rock by the shore. She didn&#8217;t turn when I sat beside her. Her face looked blissful, her eyes softly focused on the ocean waves.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;I had a dream you&#8217;d come,&#8221; she said.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;You didn&#8217;t get my letter?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Mmm,&#8221; she said. &#8220;Maybe that was it.&#8221; Her eyes crinkled. &#8220;No, it was a dream. We were watching the whales together, just like now.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI followed her gaze to the water. The wind pulled the waves up into white tips. I watched for the spout of a whale&#8217;s breath, for the emergence of a dark flapping tail.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nA few minutes passed before I said, &#8220;I don&#8217;t see any whales.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;They&#8217;re everywhere,&#8221; she said. &#8220;Hundreds of them. Look!&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe pointed to a large whitecap, then clasped her hands in delight. It wasn&#8217;t her eyesight. She had been old as long as I&#8217;d known her, and she&#8217;d never had to squint to identify faces or read signs. It was the way she saw.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI tried to see the waves like she did, wanting to believe that her way was right, that there were hundreds of whales cavorting right there in the bay. Maybe they were whales of a different dimension, the songs of their bodies vibrating on a different scale than the songs of our world, and she could see them because she had one foot in that world too, like the shamans who had long disappeared. I tried, but the whales always turned back into waves for me. Just white caps created by the wind.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI kissed her head, the gray strands of her hair soft under my lips. She wrapped both her hands around one of mine. We sat there for another hour, me watching the waves, she watching the whales, until the sun flashed green as it disappeared into the sea.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMy sea voyage was nothing grand or heroic. Fishers had complained of a recent surge in the sea-squirrel population. They ate too much and reproduced too fast, and chewed apart coral reefs so they could burrow in the rubble. The fishers&#8217; nets were full of them instead of the fish they could sell in markets. So our task was to hunt these pests, which we did by a number of different methods. We launched spears after them when we saw solitary squirrels leaping along beside the ship. We dropped nets and captured hundreds at a time when we found a dray of them, tossing back the odd fish or octopus also caught in the net.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe sea-squirrels had thick rodent-like bodies and yellow fur like the mountain-squirrels, but had gill slits behind their ears and thick fins with claws at the end that could slice your hand if you picked one up live. I&#8217;d seen some as big as a puppy, though most we caught were much smaller.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThey were coarse and tough, but the ship&#8217;s cook fried and spiced them in a way that made them tolerable. It was during one of these feasts, the stars bright above us and a thick candle drawing our shadows long on the wooden deck as we lifted bites to our mouths, that my crewmates started telling stories.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nTheir stories were not of their own pomp and bravery, because our generation had grown up with the war, and we didn&#8217;t tend to display pride about our petty achievements. They were stories about their mothers, their uncles, their teachers, and were told less to brag or entertain than to show the others who they were, what they valued.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI listened to several before someone suggested it was my turn. I chewed my fried sea-squirrel and stared into the candle flame, thinking. My father had been injured in the war and had spent most of my life clouding his sorrows with sedating smoke, saved from destruction only by my mother&#8217;s quiet devotion. There were stories there, but not ones that my sea-brothers wanted to hear. And then I smiled, and told them about Alana.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nOnce, she had grown the largest flower anyone had ever seen. I came back from my rowing lesson to find her in the garden crooning over an orange blossom that had expanded overnight to the size of a dinner plate. She held her finger to her mouth when I walked up so that I wouldn&#8217;t interrupt her song. I crouched in the dirt beside her, poking the ground with a stick. It was normal for her to sing the old shaman songs in the garden, but she usually serenaded the whole plot while she watered and pruned.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI looked up from the ground, bored with the designs I&#8217;d scratched into the soil, and watched the blossom grow before my eyes. She sang, and new petals unfolded from a seemingly infinite center. I watched, entranced. Eventually her voice cracked and she stopped, nodded.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;That&#8217;s enough for today,&#8221; she said, and took me inside for dinner.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nOver my shoulder, I could see the blossom still growing.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe next day it had doubled, and again the day after that, until its radius was nearly the length of the rowboat I practiced with daily. Each day she sang to it, starting when I left for rowing lessons, and continuing until after I returned. The vegetables we picked during that time were small and bitter, but the flower just kept growing.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAround that time an artist announced a contest to become the subject matter for his new mural, which would adorn the marketplace wall. It was an ill-defined contest, and I heard the parents of my rowing friends complain that it was a scam, this artist just looking to be coddled and fed.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBut Alana was determined to win.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;I&#8217;ve always wanted someone to paint a portrait of me,&#8221; she told me one day while we were washing dishes together.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Really?&#8221; I asked. I wondered if she would be happy with the way he painted her. She was not beautiful, not like the girls who practiced dancing with palm leaves on the shore while we practiced our rowing on the sea. But she did have vibrancy, a glow that affected her every movement, and I wondered if the artist would be able to capture that, rather than simply painting a squat gray woman.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Oh yes,&#8221; she answered. &#8220;When I was young I knew an artist who used to draw sketches of me. He always promised one day he&#8217;d paint me.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSuds slid down her arms. The water splashed.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;What happened to him?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Mmm,&#8221; she said, stared out the window and then shook her head. She never said anything more.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe invited the artist over to see the flower. I stayed in the house and watched them through the window. The artist was a tall man with long fingers, whose head protruded in front of his neck rather than sitting on top of it. Alana talked, her hands flying to illustrate her ideas. The artist nodded. She tried out several poses in front of the flower. I laughed at how silly she looked and imitated the poses in the bedroom mirror, laughing at myself too.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe artist stayed for lunch. He was a serious man. He asked questions about my rowing lessons and told me grotesque details about the war on the other side of the mountains, which I tried to forget as soon as I&#8217;d heard.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Do you think you&#8217;ll win the contest?&#8221; I asked Alana once he was gone.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Oh yes,&#8221; she said. &#8220;I&#8217;m quite sure of it.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe made the mistake of expressing this confidence to a number of people we saw at the marketplace that afternoon, and when we woke the next day, the flower was gone. A hole occupied the center of the garden where someone had dug it out by the roots.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAlana paced the edge of the garden, wringing her hands. I assumed she would be most upset about losing her chance to be painted, but what she kept repeating was, &#8220;The flower can&#8217;t keep growing if I can&#8217;t sing to it!&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nTogether we launched a thorough investigation, scanning the garden pathways for unusual footprints, going door to door asking if anyone had seen who took it.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;It&#8217;s a giant flower,&#8221; I said to Alana after the fifth household that told us they knew nothing. &#8220;There aren&#8217;t many places it could be hidden.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;It will die if I can&#8217;t sing to it,&#8221; Alana said, despair saturating her voice.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nIn the marketplace I spotted the artist. Alana called to him but he didn&#8217;t turn so we ran to catch up. She caught him by the sleeve, wheezing. He looked at the two of us as if we were thieves demanding his wallet. Alana put her hand to her chest, still wheezing from the run, so I started our standard questioning about the flower. Alana interrupted me.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;You, sir,&#8221; she said, still breathless, but looking up into the artist&#8217;s face now, &#8220;have mud on your shoes.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nWe tracked down the stolen flower in a shed behind the marketplace, then the artist admitted he planned to paint the mural of the flower&#8211;without Alana&#8211;and sell the flower to the highest bidder.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe flower was so big by that point that it took ten of us to hold it up and carry it back to Alana&#8217;s garden, where she placed it into the hole, packing dirt as close around its roots as she could. She sang to the flower and it grew even larger until it filled the whole back yard.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMy crewmates smiled, nodding up at the sky, and in the candlelight I could see a touch of that same bliss I had seen on Alana&#8217;s face while she watched the wave-whales.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;That&#8217;s not what happened,&#8221; one of the men said.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI squinted through the candle flame, and realized this was one of the boys I had taken rowing lessons with as a child. I didn&#8217;t want to admit I hadn&#8217;t recognized him before.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;What do you remember, then?&#8221; I said.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe shrugged and retreated into the shadows and all eyes turned back to me. So I told them the truth.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nWe carried the flower back&#8211;it took five of us in this version&#8211;and planted it. For several days, Alana sat out there singing to it. But the brown tinge that had already affected the outer petals by the time we found it just kept spreading. Every day the orange soured to brown a bit more, no matter how much and how lovely Alana sang.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nOne night she was still out there when I went to bed, and I woke up to find her crying next to the dry tendrils of what had once been the biggest blossom anyone had ever seen. I sat there and cried with her, and then helped her inside and tucked her into bed, as she had done for me so many times. Instead of going to my normal rowing lesson, I dragged my canoe up the hill and loaded the dead flower into it. I took it down to the shore and dumped the brown petals in, watched the flower get torn apart by the waves.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Better?&#8221; I said to the man who had questioned my story.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe nodded, a smirk on his face. The others began to wander back to their bunks, leaving other stories untold for the night.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI slept poorly even on the easiest nights, jerked awake by every creak of the mast, every snort of my bunkmates. One morning a few nights after I&#8217;d told Alana&#8217;s story, I was on deck in the soft pre-dawn light, lowering the nets. My hands burned from the rope and my eyes throbbed from lack of sleep. The water heaved and peaked like mountains rapidly building and eroding. Water sprayed against the ship and it sounded to me like the spout of a whale, that thought coming from the back of my groggy mind.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nWhen the nets were fully lowered, I looked down to see them trailing in the water. Somewhere below the nets a shadow grew darker and then a patch of oily gray skin surfaced just beside the edge of the net. It disappeared, dove, and reappeared a bit further from the ship with a glimpse of a wide flat tail. I leaned on the rail and watched as a second one breeched with a spray that sounded like the water against the hull, and I was left unsure what I had been hearing a few moments before.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAfter a while we were called back to shore, our task of checking the sea-squirrel population accomplished, at least for now. I found myself back on land sunburned, wobbly-legged and nursing a poorly defined sense of dissatisfaction. I considered going back through the mountains to see my parents, to see if fortunes had changed, but I decided not to, for now. It was hard enough just to walk on dry land, and I couldn&#8217;t imagine going back to that land-locked city, mountains on one side, desert on the other. As a boy when my parents had come to claim me from Alana&#8217;s and take me back to the war-ravaged city, I had been so excited to go home. But when I got there, it wasn&#8217;t home anymore. I missed the sea, and the garden. I missed the girls with their palm leaf dances, and the boys I rowed with. I missed Alana.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI waited a few days after returning to shore before going to see her. When my legs felt more solid, I climbed the short hill to her house and, even though I knew better, knocked on the door. But this time when she didn&#8217;t answer, I didn&#8217;t find her in the garden, or at the beach. I went in the back door, calling her name. The house felt warm and sweet. It smelled like her, but she wasn&#8217;t there. I went to a neighbor to ask if they&#8217;d seen her. They pointed me up the hill.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nA trail forked at the edge of the forest, and I spied a footprint on the one leading up into the mountains. Narrow and tapered, like her favorite shoes.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nIt didn&#8217;t take long to catch up with her.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Alana!&#8221; I called, but she didn&#8217;t turn. She held her skirts in both hands and stepped solidly, quickly up the rocky trail. I hurried behind her, calling her name again.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;I had a dream you&#8217;d come,&#8221; she said, without turning to me.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Alana, what are you doing up here?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Oh, you won&#8217;t turn me back,&#8221; she said.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHer cheeks were flushed bright red, but her breath sounded strong and steady. No wheezing from this exertion, not yet. My own pulse was raised, my throat dry.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;But where are you going?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Just come along,&#8221; she said.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSo I did. We climbed together until I felt my heart would explode. Until my head felt dizzy and light. This was a different path than the one that led through the mountains to the city. This one led up a tall conical peak, one that stood above all the others. The air grew colder. Fog swirled around our feet.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Will you tell me where we&#8217;re going?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;There was this man in town,&#8221; she said, &#8220;From somewhere to the south, where there&#8217;s still a living shaman. He was talking about what keeps our feet on the ground. He says if you go high enough, it has less power. He says if you go all the way to the stars, you could float in the air like a fish floats in the sea.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Oh, Alana,&#8221; I said. &#8220;That&#8217;s why we&#8217;re all the way up here?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe didn&#8217;t stop climbing, though it was steeper now, a slower ascent. I didn&#8217;t know much about how the world worked, but I knew that if I dropped something, it fell to the ground, and it didn&#8217;t matter how high or low I was. It was always the same. The shamans were long gone, and I doubted even they could have changed that basic truth.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe got far enough ahead that I lost her in the mist for a moment, and when I caught up, she was climbing a loose rope ladder that hung along the side of a sharp peak. I paused, looking up to where the mountain vanished into more fog. I waited until she had almost disappeared again, then I gripped the rope rungs and started to climb.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHer movements twisted the ladder, challenging my own climb, and I had no doubt that if we fell, we would both be drawn right back down to the closest solid surface, given an unforgiving reprimand forever doubting the ground&#8217;s pull. My rowing teacher had told me never to turn my back on the sea, and I felt here as if I had turned my back on the ground, so that it might sneak up on me like a big wave. I looked down, but the ground was obscured by fog.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThen the ladder lost some of its tension, and I could tell her weight was no longer pressing on it.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Alana!&#8221; I yelled, my voice cracking from exhaustion. I looked wildly around, but didn&#8217;t see her body tumbling past me. I climbed faster, and the summit came into view.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe balanced on the tip of the mountain, teetering and laughing like my friends and I when we had tried to balance on the poles at the dock. I stayed below, hands gripping so tightly that the rope burned my palms. She wobbled, then seemed to find stability. I held my breath. She looked up into the sky, swirls of blue breaking through the fog. With grace she lifted her arms, letting the skirts fall around her ankles. Then her feet lifted off the mountaintop and she floated, the fog flowing around her like water.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak \/><br \/>\n<a name=\"doing\"><\/a><H1 LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"font-weight: normal; page-break-before: always\"><br \/>\n<FONT FACE=\"Times New Roman, serif\"><FONT SIZE=6>The Things We Should Be Doing<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/H1><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBy Drew Rogers<\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe person who stops to help me leaves their headlights on, and I can see my body folded up in a way that makes me certain I&#8217;m dying.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI can&#8217;t move.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThis must be what going into shock feels like: nothing at all. But I know I should be feeling something because my left arm bone is sticking through my leather jacket. And I have all these thoughts queued up&#8212;the things I know I&#8217;m supposed to be thinking about while dying&#8212;but all I can think right now is how stupid this fucking jacket is.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n<em>Ride or Die.<\/em> Really?<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe man gets out his phone to make a call. I can&#8217;t hear anything, but I assume it&#8217;s to 911. Then he paces for a bit, probably working up the nerve to comfort me in my last moments, putting on his mask of false-positivity, because he must also know I&#8217;m dying.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThen he holds up his phone and walks toward me. I hear the muffled scuffing of his shoes against the asphalt as he approaches, sounds that are far away but close at the same time; or maybe I don&#8217;t hear anything. He takes one step back as the glistening pool of my blood almost touches his shoes. He&#8217;s still holding up his phone.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nIs he filming me?<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAnd now I&#8217;m thinking about what I should be thinking about: my family, and how my daughter is only two years old, and how my wife is the most beautiful soul in the universe, and how I am&#8212;how I was&#8212;so lucky, and how I&#8217;m hurting them by leaving them, and how I&#8217;m so so so sorry that I&#8217;m leaving them, and is this fucking guy actually filming me?<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe man is expressionless, his mouth a hard line, his eyes a thousand-yard stare. I try to scream at him, try to yell <em>help!<\/em>, even though I know he can&#8217;t do anything for me. Nothing happens; I don&#8217;t move or make a sound.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe continues to circle me, a timid coyote passing out of my field of vision and then back in. He sweeps his camera over the pieces of my motorcycle strewn about the street, then he fixes it back on me again. He stays that way for what feels like the rest of my life.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI still can&#8217;t feel anything, but somehow I know my breathing has slowed and I&#8217;m getting close to my last moment. And my last moment is going to be with this guy caring more about getting a good shot than me going peacefully. Part of me doesn&#8217;t care, but another part feels more alone than ever, and I can&#8217;t do anything except lie here and keep on dying, can&#8217;t do anything but think things like <em>what&#8217;s going to happen after this?<\/em>, and <em>what if my family sees this video?<\/em>, and <em>I can&#8217;t let that happen<\/em>. And I get so angry I start to rage inside and think <em>why are you doing this?<\/em>, and <em>I&#8217;m dying!<\/em>, and <em>leave!<\/em>, and <em>fuck off! fuck off! fuck off!<\/em><br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAnd now I&#8217;m thinking in pictures. Pictures of all the things I want to see just one more time before I&#8217;m gone, but I&#8217;m thinking them right at him: a picture of me lying on the couch with my daughter asleep on my chest, of my wife with her hair all messed up in the morning and how it makes her look like a lion, of my daughter hugging our cat a little too tightly, of my cat being fine with it, of my wife in the shower, of my wife squinting because she can&#8217;t see me without her glasses, of the three of us sitting around the TV, eating pizza and watching cartoons.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThis last thought is a whip lashing out of me, and the man staggers. His eyes go wide and he struggles to regain his footing.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBut he still has his phone held up, and my anger becomes a sun in my chest; a fiery star that burns burns burns, then shrinks, waits, and detonates.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe supernova is a bursting series of images, the colors of it lighting up the street: an image of us quietly drinking coffee and my daughter still asleep, of my daughter insisting that I pick her up, of me picking her up, of my wife insisting that I pick her up, too, of both of them laughing, of me laughing with them, of me asking my parents questions that I&#8217;ll never get to, of my brothers and sisters, of me telling them I love them, of my little girl&#8217;s cheeks, of my wife&#8217;s eyes, of their hands and feet, of them happy, of them happy without me, after this, not forgetting me, but being happy.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nFor a second I forget the man as he&#8217;s swallowed up by the spectacle, but when the colors fade I see his hands are shaking so violently that he drops his phone. He&#8217;s looking me right in my eyes for the first time, and his face drains of all color. It&#8217;s as if he&#8217;s just now realizing I&#8217;m not an alien. His phone hits the blacktop, and I hear it crack before I actually see it crack.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAnd now he&#8217;s kneeling next to me, his hands still shaking as he takes mine into his. &#8220;I&#8217;m so sorry, buddy,&#8221; he says, &#8220;I don&#8217;t know what I was thinking.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThen he starts saying all the things he should be saying, and I realize I wasn&#8217;t the only one in shock.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe says, &#8220;It&#8217;s going to be okay-ay.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAnd, &#8220;Y-you hang in the-there.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAnd, &#8220;Thambulance is on sway.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAnd, &#8220;Withwith st-stay with me stay me with&#8230;&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak \/><br \/>\n<a name=\"mutable\"><\/a><H1 LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"font-weight: normal; page-break-before: always\"><br \/>\n<FONT FACE=\"Times New Roman, serif\"><FONT SIZE=6>The Mutable Sky<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/H1><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBy Jamie Lackey<\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSky took a step forward.  Her leg stretched out toward the desolate horizon, then came down behind her.  She wobbled and half-fell before she regained her balance.  She closed her eyes, but it didn&#8217;t help.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe&#8217;d never been comfortable in her body, but this was ridiculous.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nOil slick-purple clouds rumbled, then dumped sheets of rain that billowed like sails.  They smelled like burnt sugar and felt like feathers on her upturned face.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSky stood, let it drench her.  She glanced down at her naked body, trying not to hope and failing.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nIt was still wrong.  Unchanged.  Still her familiar, male prison.  Reality itself bent and broke around her, but her body remained stubbornly unaltered.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHer tears tasted like cilantro.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBare trees loomed to her left, and a herd of horses lumbered by, competent if not graceful on their lengthening legs.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSky watched them, hoping to catch the trick of it.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;You&#8217;re new,&#8221; a voice said.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nA woman floated toward her.  Her long blond hair curled and billowed around her naked body, and her pale, bare breasts reminded Sky of how wrong her own body was.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Yes,&#8221; she said.  To her delight, her own voice sounded different.  Feminine, like she&#8217;d always heard it in her head.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe woman blinked.  &#8220;How strange you are.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSky had always been strange.  She had thought no one would notice, here.  &#8220;I&#8217;m sorry.&#8221;  Her voice wavered, new and old within single syllables.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe woman shrugged.  &#8220;Strange is not bad.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Oh,&#8221; Sky said.  &#8220;Good.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;What is your name?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Sky.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;I&#8217;m called Celina.&#8221;  She floated around Sky, looking her up and down.  &#8220;I&#8217;d like to have sex with you.  Your body is very fine.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSky&#8217;s hated penis twitched.  It stretched to the horizon, then returned to normal.  &#8220;I&#8217;m sorry, but I&#8217;d rather not.  I hate this body.  I hoped I might change, here.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nCelina frowned.  &#8220;I don&#8217;t understand.  Your body is lovely and strong.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSky shrugged.  She was tired of explaining herself.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Well, things do change here.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Have you?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nCelina shrugged.  &#8220;Why would I wish to?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJealousy twisted Sky&#8217;s stomach.  If she looked like Celina, she wouldn&#8217;t want to change either.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Is there a secret to walking?&#8221; Sky asked.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nCelina shrugged.  &#8220;I&#8217;m sure there is.  But I never bothered to learn it.&#8221;  She floated in a fast circle around Sky, smirking as Sky&#8217;s head turned all the way around to watch.  &#8220;I float instead.  I can teach you.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Why?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;You are interesting, and I am bored.  And I am selfish and optimistic enough to maintain designs on sex.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThey floated after the horses.  The animals frolicked across the flat, brown ground, around rocks that cracked open like eggs.  Tiny horses spilled out of the rocks, awkward and shaky, but still beautiful.  Sky liked looking at them.  Their strange bodies gave her hope.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nA herd of elephants trotted up on spindly legs, and they eyed the horses warily.  They gathered around a cluster of darker rocks, and tiny elephants scrambled out and clustered around them.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSky turned to Celina.  &#8220;How can I change my body?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;You could try bathing in the ocean.  Water is mutable everywhere.  It might help.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;How do I get there?&#8221; Sky asked.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nCelina shrugged.  &#8220;I just float around till I hear it.  Or smell it, sometimes.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nCelina&#8217;s body stayed constant, even when she moved.  Her solidness was starting to look wrong.  Everything else flowed and changed, but not Celina.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Let&#8217;s try this direction,&#8221; Celina said, floating off.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSky followed.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThey floated through huge melted clocks that felt like warm pudding against Sky&#8217;s skin, climbed trees that cast no shadows and felt like old plastic, and skated across perfectly smooth pools that smelled like fresh cut grass.  They spoke to huge floating faces, but none of them knew the best path to the ocean.  It moved so often.  They agreed that it was the best place for Sky&#8217;s needs.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe sun hopped around instead of sailing across the sky, so Sky had no way of tracking time&#8217;s passage.  They rested when she was tired&#8211;Celina never seemed to tire.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSky found a stray tiny elephant tucked into one of the trees, and picked it up.  It fit in the palm of her hand, and its tiny heart beat so fast that its whole body trembled.  &#8220;What are you doing?&#8221; Celina asked.  &#8220;Those things carry disease.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;We have to find its mother.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nCelina rolled her eyes.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThey met no one who could care for the elephant, found nothing that it would eat.  Its heart slowed. Darkness fell, and purple fire danced across the sky.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe elephant slept curled against Sky&#8217;s throat.  When Sky woke, its body burst into a thousand tiny hummingbirds that scattered in a thousand directions.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThere was no food.  Sky dreamed of hamburgers and warm slices of chocolate cake.  She woke feeling full, but the feeling faded quickly.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;I&#8217;m starving,&#8221; Sky said.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nCelina nodded.  &#8220;You will have to go home, soon.  Or you&#8217;ll die.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSky&#8217;s stomach fell.  She looked down, hoping to see it hanging at her knees, but her body remained unchanged.  She wondered if she was spending too much time with Celina&#8211;if her constant-ness was contagious.  &#8220;Everything else here changes.  Why don&#8217;t you?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;I just don&#8217;t.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Are you human?  Will you starve, too?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Tell me why you want to change your body, and I will answer your questions.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;I want who I am on the outside to match who I am on the inside.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nCelina bobbed up and down.  &#8220;At least you know who you are on the inside.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;You don&#8217;t?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nCelina shrugged.  &#8220;I&#8217;m not sure I have an inside.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSky&#8217;s stomach rumbled.  &#8220;I need to go home.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Perhaps the ocean will help.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Do you hear it?  Or smell it?&#8221; Sky asked.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Soon,&#8221; Celina said.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSky wasn&#8217;t sure if she believed her.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSky&#8217;s feet dragged.  Hunger made her dizzy.  &#8220;What happens if I can&#8217;t get home?&#8221; She refused to think about her failure&#8211;about returning home with her still-wrong body.  Right now, she just didn&#8217;t want to starve.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nCelina pointed to the horizon.  &#8220;Look.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nWater&#8217;s shimmery reflection danced ahead of them, and distance-tiny white-capped waves crashed against the shore.  Sky ran.  Her legs tangled together like strands of overcooked spaghetti, but she didn&#8217;t stop.  She barreled forward until she fell into the waves.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe water burned.  She yelped and stumbled back.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe ocean branded golden stripes on her flesh.  The foam clung to her and soothed the blistering pain.  The smell of cotton candy overpowered her.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nA cloud of butterflies drifted out of the waves and settled on her face.  Their feet pricked with tiny, painful shocks.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSky waved the butterflies away.  &#8220;It&#8217;s hot!&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nCelina rolled her eyes.  &#8220;Of course it&#8217;s hot.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSky took a deep, bracing breath and stepped back toward the water.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nCelina grabbed her hand.  &#8220;Wait.  Before you go in, please, have sex with me.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSky&#8217;s hated penis responded, like it always did.  &#8220;Why?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Maybe it will help with the emptiness I feel.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSky had tried to fill emptiness with sex, and it hadn&#8217;t worked.  But things were different here.  &#8220;Okay.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nCelina grinned and pounced like a tiger.  Her breasts stuck to Sky&#8217;s chest and stretched like taffy when she pulled back.  She straddled Sky, and pleasure more intense than any Sky had ever known spiked through her.  Celina covered her face with kisses, then raked long nails down her back, and her skin parted with a hiss.  Celina thrust and rocked and arched back.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe collapsed on top of Sky, winded and giggling.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Thank you,&#8221; she whispered.  She lifted herself away, and Sky felt a strange pulling.  There was an instant of pain, then a strange, giddy relief.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSky looked down, and there was nothing between her legs.  Breasts rose from her chest, mirror images of Celina&#8217;s.  &#8220;Did you know this would happen?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nCelina shook her head.  &#8220;But I do feel better.  Thanks.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSky ran her hands over her changed body.  She touched her face&#8211;her smooth cheeks, her smaller nose.  It felt like the face she&#8217;d always dreamed of seeing in the mirror.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nCelina pulled Sky to my feet and kissed her.  She tasted like smoky chocolate.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSky jumped into the water.  It burned, and her skin turned gold.  She swam deeper, into deep purple water that was cooler against her skin.  Fluorescent butterflies swirled in the waves.  Tiny bubbles fizzed all around her body, and then she could feel them inside her.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSky laughed, and the air bubbles emerged as bright golden fish.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe swam until the water was black, then burst to the surface of her own bed.  Tiny flecks of gold flaked off of her skin, and a single bright purple butterfly fluttered out the open window.  Her skin smelled like spun sugar.  &#8220;It actually worked,&#8221; she said, relief and joy washing through her.  Even just sprawled across the bed, she felt more at home in her body than she ever had before.  Her stomach grumbled.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe scrambled to her feet and ran to the mirror.  She examined every inch of her new body, laughing her new laugh and missing Celina and the golden fish.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak \/><br \/>\n<a name=\"cost\"><\/a><H1 LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"font-weight: normal; page-break-before: always\"><br \/>\n<FONT FACE=\"Times New Roman, serif\"><FONT SIZE=6>At Any Cost<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/H1><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBy Ashley Rose Nicolato<\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSomewhere beyond the edge of camp, the things were waking up. Somebody had mentioned it would be better to adjust to their schedule: sleep during the day, be vigilant at night, stop being taken by surprise. That week\u2019s leader had refused, every single time. They had made enough concessions.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe dusky purple of twilight settled over the treetops as people kicked dirt over the glowing embers of their dying fire. On top of everything else, it hadn\u2019t rained in weeks, and the whole wood was as good as kindling. They had nearly finished setting up camp for the night, and as the dozen or so remaining campers settled in for what was sure to be an uneasy rest, they rolled dirty sleeping bags onto dusty piles of dirt and leaves in a poor attempt to soften the ground at their backs. It was nearly winter. Jem sat at the edge of the tent circle, fluffing what now passed for a pillow. She hadn\u2019t slept soundly in days, and it wasn\u2019t because of what lurked beyond the tree line. The wood was filled with a million unfamiliar sounds&#8211;<em>was that an insect? Some kind of bird? What makes a buzzing sound and also scurries up and down the trees at all hours?<\/em> She wondered in silence. There was nobody to complain to any more.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe watched as a few of the others went to bed. Floating through the spaces between the zipped flaps of tents came the murmurs of pillow talk and the occasional sigh of pleasure&#8211;not everything had changed. She longed for the life she was used to: a life of clean sheets and fresh fruit and meat that didn\u2019t come from whatever was crawling around. As she pondered her fate, resigned to a life of sore muscles and aching vertebrae, someone tapped her on the shoulder. She looked up, her thoughts interrupted. <em>Kelvin.<\/em><br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYou\u2019re on watch with me, Jem,\u201d he said, and stalked off to the edge of the clearing without waiting for a response.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nKelvin was, in every sense of the word, a redneck. Jem had never socialized with people like Kelvin before all this happened, and she thought it a particularly ironic twist of fate that they were the only ones likely to survive this hell. She found herself wishing she were a little more rough around the edges. Everyone at camp treated her like a burden, making a point of explaining every chore assigned to her as if she had never heard of washing clothes or boiling water. Instead of proving them wrong, she half-assed every responsibility they gave her. <em>If they think I\u2019m so useless<\/em>, she thought, <em>I\u2019ll be useless<\/em>. It occurred to her that sort of response was infantile, but Jem wasn\u2019t particularly concerned with earning their good favor. She wasn\u2019t here to make friends, now.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJem groaned and followed him to the spot he had chosen. Leaning against the tree was the rifle, which she took, wrinkling her nose at its weight. She slid down to sit, facing the direction opposite her partner, and supporting herself against the trunk for a moment before it occurred to her that was probably the worst possible place to be if she wanted to avoid getting crawled on. She shuddered, and Kelvin snorted. Almost as if he had read her mind, he said,<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cTiny bugs\u2019re the least of your problems. Look out o\u2019er there,\u201d he said, and pointed to a place between two trees, a few yards beyond the campsite. Stretched between their branches were thick strands of pinkish grey, and though she couldn\u2019t make out much more than their color, she knew what the rope-like webbing meant.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJem swallowed, grasping the rifle tighter. \u201cThey\u2019re out here?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nKelvin shrugged as he searched the forest floor, kicking over rotting leaves and disturbing tufts of dead grass.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cBut that\u2019s so close to camp!\u201d she whispered, eyes darting back to the spot between the trees.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe picked up a stick then, reaching into his pocket and taking out a knife, and began whittling it down to size before responding, \u201cWe swept the area pretty thorough before settlin\u2019 in. They may make their way over, but if they do\u2026 well, that\u2019s why we\u2019re on watch. So keep your pretty peepers peeled.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cHmm,\u201d was Jem\u2019s only response. A biting wind blew through the trees, and she pulled her jacket even tighter around her well-fed frame. Suddenly, she felt a little less irritated and a lot more anxious. She didn\u2019t want to be responsible for the welfare of all these people. She barely wanted that responsibility over herself. She thought about the last time she was on watch. She remembered Henry.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe had been in the group from the start&#8211;the only one she\u2019d really liked, even if he was a little gauche. Something about him had smitten her, and it wasn\u2019t his good looks or even his strength. It was his attitude, she thought, and his unwillingness to bend. He was solid on all counts, and maybe even a little stuck in his ways. Henry had come from circumstances similar to Jem\u2018s, in \u201creal life\u201d as she now referred to it in her private thoughts. He hadn\u2019t been so different from her. Henry hadn\u2019t lasted too long.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cHave you ever\u2026\u201d she started to ask, and trailed off. Kelvin grunted. \u201cHave you seen one? Up close, I mean,\u201d she finished.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nKelvin stopped whittling and turned to face her, his nose inches from hers. \u201cAre you kiddin\u2019?\u201d he asked, and she shook her head. \u201cMiss, most anybody who sees one up close doesn\u2019t come back to tell of it. Mostly.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJem nodded, but pressed on. \u201cMostly?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nKelvin sighed and set down the knife and stick. \u201cYou ever see someone with a bite?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJem trembled again, and hugged the rifle to her chest, leaning against it for support. She hadn\u2019t seen a bite.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWe had a guy a while back. Back when everything went to shit and we were still thinkin\u2019 we could avoid \u2018em if we holed up. Got bit by a little one, barely bigger\u2019n you. Least that\u2019s what he says. Said. Anywho,\u201d Kelvin picked up the knife and went back to whittling before continuing his story.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cHe got bit on the leg somethin\u2019 awful&#8211;I mean, pus and gunk all runnin\u2019 out, and\u2026 Sorry. You probably don\u2019t want to hear about that. Anyway, he\u2019d been close enough to get bit, and he got an eyeful and then some. He told me what it looked like but\u2026 I don\u2019t know if he was right. In the head, I mean. By that time his fever was pretty high and most of what came out his mouth sounded nuts.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJem coughed and turned around again, staring out into the green-black of the nighttime forest. The wood was mostly quiet now, and she breathed in the silence for a while before she began to speak. She remembered Henry&#8211;his piercing blue eyes locked with hers as the thing dragged him away.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWhat happened after he got bit?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nKelvin paused and answered, \u201cWe didn\u2019t stick around to find out. He lasted for a couple days and then he got so stiff he couldn\u2018t move, and his eyes wouldn\u2019t stay open. And he smelled nasty. It was like he was rottin\u2019 from the inside or somethin\u2019. We got overrun around that time and had to leave him. Shit!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJem jumped up, rifle in hand, before Kelvin waved for her to sit back down.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cJust nicked my finger on the knife,\u201d Kelvin explained, \u201cGotta grab a bandage. Sit tight for a second, will ya?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cAlone?\u201d she whispered, but he was already walking away. Jem took deep breaths, trying to calm her nerves. She would be fine, she told herself. He was coming right back. For a while she concentrated on her breathing, listening to the steady sound, in and out. And then she held her breath. For the past few weeks they had been wandering this forest, avoiding the enemy against what she perceived to be very narrow odds. She wondered if she had gotten used to the sounds somehow, after all this time. But it wasn\u2019t familiarity tricking her senses&#8211;save for the rustling of leaves and the gentle snoring of Gina in her tent, there wasn\u2019t a single sound. No scurrying creatures, no birds, no insects. The woods were silent.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nPanicked, Jem\u2019s eyes widened as the realization struck her. What could silence an entire forest? She supposed she knew, but it wasn\u2019t until she turned to look towards Kelvin, returning with a fresh bandage, that she forced out the word: \u201cBugs!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nKelvin\u2019s eyes strayed up to the treetops as he stood frozen in place, his rifle several feet away. Lowering itself to the spot where he stood was one of them, pincers snapping and dripping with pink foam. Jem screamed, and the thing lurched forward, Kelvin\u2019s shoulder now caught between its gleaming appendages. The camp awoke quickly, men and women leaping into action, as Kelvin thrashed in a feeble attempt to free himself.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nWithout thinking, Jem raised her rifle and fired into the thing\u2019s back. It burst open with a fresh outpouring of grey-pink webbing, falling to the ground as it released its hold on Jem\u2019s frightened partner. It dissolved there into a pile of foam, staining the ground as it sunk into the dirt. Kelvin\u2019s face had been completely drained of color, save for a streak of red across his cheek. Hands quavering, she reached forward to wipe away the blood, followed it to the source, and felt the scratch on his shoulder. It was deep.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMeanwhile, the rest of the group was starting to gather around. They stood shoulder to shoulder in a circle, a wall of backs surrounding the two on the ground, eyes frantically searching the forest canopy for any sign of movement. Chests heaving. Legs quaking. Mouths exchanging panicked whispers.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cDo you see anything?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWhere did it come from?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cAre there more?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThere\u2019s never just one.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nTime ticked by at a snail\u2019s pace, the moments stretching into what felt like an eternity, and still there was no indication of more of the bugs. They couldn\u2019t be sure, but after fifteen minutes or so of standing at the ready, five of them broke off from the group to search the perimeter, leaving the rest behind to wring their hands and strain their ears for any change in their carefully placed footsteps. Jem sat, powerless to do anything. Coming back to herself for a moment, she hurriedly wiped the blood from her hands and onto the ground beside her, and brought a tentative hand to his wrist. There was a pulse&#8211;faint, but steady. Jem lowered her head to his chest and watched it rise and fall: slow, irregular. She didn\u2019t know what any of it meant. The rest of the group returned. For now, it seemed, they were alone.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHenry was Jem\u2018s savior. She had been hiding out with a bunch of her neighbors for three weeks before one of them finally lost it and killed himself. After that it was like a domino effect: others followed suit. Some people just wandered out into the woods and didn\u2019t come back. Jem waited it out. Those people weren\u2019t built for life after civilization, but they didn\u2018t have it so bad. There was plenty of food, the shelter was fairly secure, and Jem didn\u2019t mind the boredom. Henry said later it was cabin fever&#8211;some folks just can\u2019t adjust to the seclusion.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBy the time this group had found her, there was just Jem and David. He was gone now, too. The others had come looking for supplies and weren\u2019t exactly excited to see that they came with the added bonus of another couple of mouths to feed, but Henry had gone a long way towards convincing Kelvin to bring them along. She wasn\u2019t sure what would have happened if he hadn\u2019t been there. She didn\u2019t have anything to offer these people besides what they could take by force, and there weren\u2019t many women in the group. Somehow, she got by.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nKelvin didn\u2019t wake until sometime the following day. By then, his wound had begun to fester, and though the odor sickened her more than once, Jem remained dutifully at his side. She wasn\u2019t entirely sure why. She felt a little responsible, perhaps, for his present state. As the hours dragged on before he regained consciousness, Kelvin\u2019s temperature climbed steadily, until Mark&#8211;the only one in the group with any medical training&#8211;insisted they cover him with cold, wet rags. Anything to keep the fever down, he said. Jem wasn\u2019t so sure it would help. She wasn\u2019t sure it was merciful to keep him alive at all.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSomething had changed in Jem, even as it changed Kelvin. When he awoke, he did little more than ramble, so she did most of the talking. Mostly she just thought aloud, baring her soul after so much time spent stewing silence. It was nice to have someone to talk to.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe told him about her high school biology teacher, Mrs. Fitzsimmons. She remembered them glossing over the subject of evolution to appease some of the more influential religious parents. The class had spent maybe two days on the subject, but she had been fascinated by ideas like \u201cnatural selection,\u201d and \u201csurvival of the fittest.\u201d The strongest species gets the resources, the strongest within that species get to breed, making each generation more capable and more likely to survive. And then, a new element is introduced to the environment. Entire species could be wiped away with the arrival of a foreign plant or fish. <em>Or insect.<\/em> She thought that maybe their fate was sealed. All because they couldn\u2019t adapt.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWhy are the bugs so interested in people to begin with?\u201d she asked her sleeping ward. \u201cThere\u2019s plenty of animals, and they don\u2019t seem particularly picky about food. We left the cities empty, and they followed us into the woods. Why?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nIt had started with farmers complaining about missing animals: cows, sheep, goats and pigs. It couldn\u2019t be coyotes, but what could run off with an entire cow? And then they found the webs.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cAnd it seems ridiculous to me that we still don\u2019t know where they came from. Outer space? Underground? Some lab experiment gone terribly wrong? When we still had a government, they should have at least been able to give us some answers. But I guess it\u2018s like my dad used to say: government isn\u2018t good for much more than spending tax payer money, covering up truths and ignoring facts. Of course, he didn\u2019t believe in paying taxes, either, so maybe he\u2018s not the best example\u2026 Are you awake, Kelvin?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThree days after the bite and there were still no signs of improvement, though Kelvin was resting more easily now. Jem changed his bandages three times a day&#8211;or every time the blood and pus seeped through and began to stain the sleeping bag. On the fourth day, Jem awoke to Kelvin sitting up, staring down at her.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cHow are you feeling?\u201d she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. He didn\u2019t answer right away. Instead, he shifted his gaze to the wound on his shoulder, and as she watched he began to unwrap the dressing.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cHey!\u201d She jumped up, grabbing his hand and taking the gauze from his grasp. \u201cLet me do that. Is it bothering you or something?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cNo,\u201d he replied, \u201cBut I think it\u2019s gettin\u2019 better. It don\u2019t hurt as much today.\u201d His voice was shaky, his speech halted. His entire body seemed to be vibrating at once, though he insisted he was not cold.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJem looked up to meet his eyes, placing a hand on his forehead and quickly pulling it away.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYou\u2019re boiling up!\u201d she shook her head, standing to exit the tent and gently pushing him back onto the sleeping bag. \u201cI\u2019m going to get Mark.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWait,\u201d Kelvin pleaded, \u201ccan you unwrap my bandage first? I just wanna see\u2026\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe hesitated, noting the wild way his eyes fluttered back and forth from her face to the door of the tent, the fresh outpouring of sweat on his brow. He was deathly pale. Was he delirious, she wondered? The tent was frigid, pitched as far away from the fire as possible, and yet he was nearly nude. Jem wore two jackets and thermals and could barely contain her shivers. Finally, she decided to humor him.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cOkay, but let me rewrap it afterwards. You should be resting.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYou know,\u201d Kelvin said, squeezing his eyes shut and snapping them open again, \u201cIt looked funny.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d she asked him.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cIt reminded me of someone. In my dreams, I see it again. It had these green eyes, like&#8230;\u201d He pointed to his eyes and then hers, then stopped to examine his fingers. Cyanosis had settled into his nail beds, either from the cold or lack of circulation. Where had Jem heard that word before, she wondered? Probably from Mark, she guessed.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe had already unwrapped some of the gauze, and through the fibers Jem could make out the slightest change in color. She raised her eyebrows&#8211;maybe he was right. Maybe he was getting better, after all. And then the bandage was off, and what lay underneath was exposed. Her heart sank into her stomach and rose again with a fresh outpouring of bile. She leapt up, rushing from the tent, and spilled her dinner onto the dirt. Eyes closed, she watched the memories of weeks ago unfold on the back of her lids, retreating to something close to normal.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nWinter had been fast approaching, and the campers began packing five or more people into each tent. Two people in most sleeping bags, trying to combine their respective body heat into something more tolerable than the steadily escalating chill beyond the tent flaps. Jem slept alone.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nIn the sleeping bag next to hers, the man turned over and sighed, brows drawn together in silent consternation. Jem recognized that look from the first time he\u2019d seen her, sizing her up, trying to decide if she was worth saving. She\u2019d nudged him gently.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cHenry,\u201d she\u2019d whispered, scooting herself closer to his slowly stirring form. He rolled over and groaned, and his other neighbor on the floor of the tent shushed him impatiently. Rubbing his eyes with mittened fists, Henry allowed himself a smile and answered Jem.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYou\u2019re always getting me in trouble. What is it?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJem bit her lip and said, \u201cWhere did you grow up?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHenry groaned again, and now his neighbor shoved him testily. Jem suppressed her laughter long enough for him to answer.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cA little suburb not far from here. My dad was a veterinarian and my mom was an accountant in a big firm. Pretty basic stuff,\u201d he said, rolling over to lay on his back, arms folded behind his head. Somebody had stolen his pillow hours before, and it was just like Henry to sleep through it.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWhat about you, Jemmy?\u201d he\u2019d asked, poking her in the head until she finally had to smack his hand away.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI hate it when you call me that,\u201d she\u2019d grumbled, but softened immediately when he turned to face her. Damn him, she\u2019d thought, fighting back the urge to pinch his cheek. \u201cMy father owned a textile factory a few miles away. We lived closer to the city. He didn\u2018t come here much.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cSo what were you doing in town?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cMy mom moved here after the divorce,\u201d she\u2019d said, turning onto her back again to peer through a hole in the roof of the tent. She never had gotten used to seeing so many stars at night, like pinpricks in the blackness of the sky. Dad had told her once that they were air holes poked in the top of the box they lived in, when she was old enough to know it was nonsense but young enough to eat up every word.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cSo you went with her, then?\u201d Henry asked, drawing her back to the conversation. Jem nodded. \u201cWhy?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe hadn\u2019t thought about it much, but tried to give an honest answer. \u201cI don\u2019t really know. I never made a decision one way or the other. I just\u2026 well, it sounds stupid. But I wanted to wait it out. I didn\u2019t want to have to choose.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cBecause you loved them both, right?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYeah.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cHm.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHenry was quiet for a moment, and the silence began to weigh on Jem. Fearing his disapproval, suddenly self-conscious, she\u2019d asked,<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWhat are you thinking?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe\u2019d said, \u201cI guess for me it would have come down to being comfortable. I mean, my parents never split up so I don\u2019t really know what I\u2019m talking about, but out of the two of them my mom made a better living and was around a lot more. I probably would have picked her.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJem thought about this and nodded.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cIt just comes down to survival, right? You do what\u2019s necessary to get by.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cExactly,\u201d he said, and lowered his voice even further. \u201cLike, if we ran into another group and they had a better chance of survival, I\u2019d jump ship right away,\u201d he\u2019d paused before adding, \u201cI\u2019d want you to come with me.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJem hadn\u2019t said anything, but carried the resulting smile with her until morning. She would have followed him anywhere.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWhat did it look like?\u201d Mark had asked her, and though it was all she could picture no matter how hard she tried to force the image from her mind, she couldn\u2019t form the words to explain what it was that she thought she had seen. Jem had been lying on the ground, trying to remember how to breathe. He hadn\u2019t waited for an answer&#8211;she\u2019d heard his screams from the tent moments later. That had been hours ago.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThey had set to work trying to pry the black, scaly growth from Kelvin\u2019s skin, but all their efforts only seemed to cause him pain. Someone remarked that the bite might have been contained to the shoulder, and if they amputated his arm\u2026 but then Mark had lifted the blanket and they saw the spreading scales across Kelvin\u2019s stomach. The familiar, hardened flesh. It hadn\u2019t been there a few hours before, when Jem had brought him fresh towels. Then he started coughing up the pink foam, and someone else said what nobody else wanted to. They didn\u2019t wait for it to spread further.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nOne morning, just before sunrise, Jem crept past the night watch and into the forest. The ground was slick with rain, and as she climbed over a fallen tree she slipped and landed, legs splayed out but unbroken, at the bottom of a hill, far from the light of the campfire. This section of woods wasn\u2019t part of their usual route, which Jem had long ago realized was nothing more than a disjointed circle. She pulled out a flashlight and shone the beam beyond her muddied boots, out into the opposite side of the clearing. There lay several bugs, maybe even a dozen, resting peacefully together. <em>So close to camp<\/em>, she thought. The trees around them were shrouded in webbing, which Jem took to mean they had been there at least a day. <em>Why haven\u2019t they approached the camp?<\/em> One of the bugs stirred, stretching its scaly legs to brush the side of another, and they rolled into each other, locked in a sleepy embrace. Jem felt a tug at her stomach. She watched them for a while before heading back.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJem and Mark made their way through the brush, tiptoeing past a pile of sleeping bugs. She lagged behind a bit, and watched, until he pulled her roughly to her feet and forced her on. Once in the clear, he turned on her with the full force of his exasperation.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWhat the hell was that?\u201d he asked her, pointing towards the woods.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJem shrugged, holstering her weapon, and said, \u201cI was just looking.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cFor what?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe wasn\u2019t sure how to answer, and finally decided she wasn\u2019t worried about what he thought anymore. She had been thinking for a while.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cDoesn\u2019t it seem odd to you?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWhat?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThe way they all sleep together like that. How they follow us where ever we go. How there\u2019s always more of them and less of us. Don\u2019t you see what it means?\u201d she asked him, placing a hand on his shoulder which he quickly brushed off.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMark stood and stared her down for a moment, incredulous, before responding.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWhat does it mean, Jem?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe looked back towards the tree line.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWe don\u2019t have to die.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMark didn\u2019t say anything. A few of the others were watching them now, and Mark made a point of stepping back, separating himself further from Jem.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWe can survive, one way or the other. We can stop running. We can live, no matter what that means. Don\u2018t you see? We\u2019re fighting a losing battle, but\u2026 We can change!\u201d she shouted now, unconcerned by their worried looks, their disbelieving faces.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cJem,\u201d Mark said, holding his hands out in a gesture of pleading, or perhaps warning, \u201cYou don\u2019t mean that. You\u2019re just tired. And hungry. It\u2018s okay&#8211;we all are.\u201d His face was gaunt, eyes sunken into pallid flesh. The rest of them didn\u2019t look much better. Supplies were short.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJem cast her eyes towards the ground, then back to the tree line. He was out there, somewhere, she thought. These people didn\u2019t mean much to her, but if she could persuade them, she would take them with her. <em>The more the merrier, right? And it would be better than this.<\/em> She looked into their disbelieving eyes, each carrying with it a note of impatience. There would be no convincing them. She nodded and followed the rest to set up camp, her outburst set aside until later, fuel for hushed chats around the fire.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThat night, under cover of darkness, Jem left her post and stole away towards the clearing with the sleeping bugs. She left her gun, and her knife, and her canteen. Sliding herself along the ground, she peered out from behind a large oak and watched as the bugs began to awaken. They stood fully erect, shaking the dew from their feelers, grooming each other\u2019s pincers. Jem waited until they all rose, and searched each face, straining to find the one she was looking for. She rose, and stepped into the clearing, and they all turned to face her. A low hum rushed through the crowd of bugs, and somewhere near the back of the clearing one scuttled forward as the rest parted to let it pass. It was slightly larger than Jem, and as it reached the spot where she stood, it raised itself on its hind legs to meet her face to face. Its eyes were so blue, so familiar, so welcoming. <em>Honey, I&#8217;m home.<\/em> She realized she was smiling. The hum of the bugs changed in pitch as Jem unbuttoned her jacket, letting it fall to the forest floor, holding out her arms, ready to make her choice.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak \/><br \/>\n<a name=\"first\"><\/a><H1 LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"font-weight: normal; page-break-before: always\"><br \/>\n<FONT FACE=\"Times New Roman, serif\"><FONT SIZE=6>First Try<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/H1><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBy Derrick Boden<\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe habitat doors hissed open.  Steam slipped from Vesha&#8217;s body.  The air grew cold, until ice strands formed between her fingers and toes.  Her lungs burned.  The plastic umbilical cable tugged at her navel as it pumped stabilizing chemicals into her bloodstream.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nVesha squinted through tears of pain.  Outside, Torumba&#8217;s frozen landscape stretched to the wall of the Border Zone.  A layer of mist clung to the blue ice field.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHer earpiece crackled.  &#8220;Acclimation sequence complete.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nVesha strode out onto the ice.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Crystozoa concentrations at point-six above.  Lung capacity at fifty-five percent.  All systems operational.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nVesha coughed, and tasted blood.  Operational.  Yeah, right.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Evening, Vesha.&#8221;  Through the habitat windows, Jacob&#8217;s bushy hair stood out like an orange sun.  He sounded different today.  Nervous.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Hot date today, doc?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJacob forced a chuckle.  &#8220;Yeah, right.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe rattled off her test parameters.  It had been a year since her inception date, and the damned tests never ended.  If she was meant to parent humanity&#8217;s next generation, shouldn&#8217;t she get started?  The habitat would only hold them for another few years.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe crouched at the test site and planted her fingertips atop the ice.  Liquid pooled in small circles.  Beneath, the soil was visible.  Her fingers sank, and for a moment it looked like it might work.  Then a chill overtook her, and the water froze.  She tore her hands free, and her skin bled.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nVesha gritted her teeth.  More failed tests.  They had built her to thrive on Torumba, not just survive.  But Jacob himself had admitted, halfway through a bottle of chag one night, that they&#8217;d rushed her genetic encoding, pressured by worsening habitat conditions.  There was still no word from Earth, and everyone feared the worst.  Their meager colony might be the last vestige of humankind.  They had no fuel to venture beyond this system, which meant they had to adapt.  Vesha was their only hope for survival.  &#8220;The key to humanity&#8217;s future,&#8221; Jacob called her.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nVesha spat, and the ice stained red.  Some surrogate mother she was.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe shot a glance at the habitat.  A gaggle of scientists peered over Jacob&#8217;s shoulder.  Vesha&#8217;s earpiece buzzed, and the white-coated team shuffled down the hall, leaving Jacob alone.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;What&#8217;s going on, bud?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSweat glistened on Jacob&#8217;s brow.  &#8220;If you run, you might make the border in time.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nVesha snorted.  &#8220;Not following you.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;You have to go.  It&#8217;s your only chance.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nA tremor rippled down Vesha&#8217;s spine.  &#8220;Are we under attack?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;No&#8211;&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Then what?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJacob hesitated.  &#8220;Check the west corral.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe wall dividing her corral from the next loomed fifty meters away.  That corral had always been empty.  What was he getting at?<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJacob slammed his fist against the glass.  &#8220;Go!&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nVesha ran.  Her lungs felt ready to burst.  Her muscles strained around the joints, where the tests always showed signs of genetic defects.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe reached the wall and leapt.  She hauled herself atop the wall.  Blood streamed from her nostril onto her lips.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nA shadow played across the ice in the adjacent corral.  A woman.  On the surface.  How was this possible?  Vesha was the only one with lungs that could handle the Crystozoa.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe woman&#8217;s skin was a dull green.  Her fingers and toes were long and thin.  The light from the habitat caught her face.  She looked just like Vesha.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe woman crouched, and sunk her fingertips into the ice with ease.  She tossed chunks of the blue stuff aside and clutched the rich soil beneath.  Her breathing was relaxed.  She was perfect.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Jacob, what&#8230; is she?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJacob sighed.  &#8220;There isn&#8217;t time&#8211;&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Tell me!&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;She&#8217;s&#8230; your successor.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe woman in the corral dug out a handful of soil and studied it.  Vesha clenched her teeth.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;But I&#8217;m&#8230; key to humanity&#8217;s future&#8230; &#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;You&#8217;re just our first try.  You&#8217;re not the&#8230; finished product.  Listen, Vesha.  You have to go&#8211;&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;First try?  We&#8217;re all first tries!  What about you, Jacob?  Are they building your successor, too?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;It doesn&#8217;t work like that, Vesha.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe woman shook Crystozoa strands from her hair.  Vesha fought off the urge to leap down and tear that hair from her scalp by the fistful.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;What will happen to me?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;It&#8217;s not my decision.  I just found out.  Doctor Thomas&#8211;&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Answer me!&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJacob&#8217;s voice quavered.  &#8220;You&#8217;ll be decommissioned.  But you still have a chance, before Doctor Thomas gets back.  You have to run.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nVesha looked across the ice fields.  Beyond the far wall lay the Wilds.  Where would she go?  The Wilds were filled with Crystozoa breeding pools and god knew what else.  And she was&#8230; flawed.  She didn&#8217;t stand a chance.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAn angry voice piped into her ear.  Doctor Thomas.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;&#8211;the hell?  Vesha, return to base immediately.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nVesha&#8217;s umbilical cord lay sprawled across the ice like the slack string of a kite, waiting to reel her in.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Return to base.  That&#8217;s an order.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nVesha drew the cord to her mouth and gnashed it with her teeth.  The fibers snapped.  Milky liquid spilled across the wall.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAn alarm blared.  From the habitat, a security automaton shot into the night on blazing thrusters.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nVesha ran across the top of the wall.  Her thighs burned like hell.  The border of the Wilds loomed closer, a knife&#8217;s edge of white against azure mountains.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMetal hands gripped her.  Her feet slipped from the wall.  She twisted in the automaton&#8217;s grasp, but its fingers dug deeper.  It hauled her toward the habitat.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nDoctor Thomas stood in the window, hands on her hips, a venomous glare in her eyes.  A pair of guards restrained Jacob nearby.  His eyes were wide, locked on Vesha as she drew nearer.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nVesha thrust a hand upward.  Her open palm smashed into her captor&#8217;s chin, and sparks flew.  She tucked her legs, planted her feet against its chest, and pushed.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMetal fingers slipped from her skin, drawing out ribbons of blood.  She flew backward.  A flash blinded her.  Pain lanced through her torso.  She gagged as her fingers felt the gaping hole in her abdomen.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nVesha landed atop the wall and the air shot from her lungs.  Jacob&#8217;s voice rang in her earpiece, a string of muffled words.  She tried to sit up, but the pain was too much.  Her legs were numb.  Crystozoa clung to the surface of her eyes.  She let her head drop.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nOver the west side, her successor stood in her corral, watching.  A thin trail of blood ran from the woman&#8217;s nostril.  Vesha smiled bitterly as the pain slipped from her body at last.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak \/><br \/>\n<a name=\"ashika\"><\/a><H1 LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"font-weight: normal; page-break-before: always\"><br \/>\n<FONT FACE=\"Times New Roman, serif\"><FONT SIZE=6>Ashika<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/H1><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBy Brian Ennis<\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAt first, Mark took her for just another illegal: they all looked the same, heads down, feet shuffling, dressed in off-white paper suits so thin that the whole line trembled on their way up the ramp and into the back of the lorry. It was only when she looked up that he realized who she was.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAshika.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAsha to her friends. He had been one, once.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe had fallen for her hard, the first girl he had ever thought of as more than just a fluffy pink annoyance. The entire spring the year he turned fourteen had been spent trying to impress her and the entire summer holiday spent longing for her. He cried when he returned to school in September and found her gone. He suffered his first broken heart by proxy, victim of Asha&#8217;s family moving away from London to care for an elderly relative.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSix years had barely changed her; she was still Asha, still dark-haired and dark-eyed and petite, a cocoa-skinned pixie. She shuffled past on the ramp and for a second their eyes met. When she didn&#8217;t seem to recognize him, didn&#8217;t even blink, it was a sucker punch right in the gut. She was in the back of the lorry before he could catch his breath, just another illegal for Jones to tick off on his clipboard. Once the rest of them had joined her the ramp was lifted, sealing her away in the dark.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJones drove, easing the lorry through the gate and out of the holding camp, a squat building that had once been a primary school. The outskirts of Leicester were a ghost town of hollowed-out take-aways and boarded-up corner shops covered in graffiti: &#8220;Illegals Go Home&#8221;, &#8220;Britain for the British,&#8221; slogans from the government&#8217;s last election campaign. They made Mark think of the prisoners, crammed in the back of the lorry like cattle on the way to the slaughterhouse.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJones was old-school; shaven head, bulldog tattoo on one forearm and a pin-up on the other, a faded St George&#8217;s Cross poking out from the collar of his camo shirt. They hadn&#8217;t worked together before and Jones was too big, too imposing, for Mark to be the one to break the silence. Instead he checked the clipboard, as discreetly as he could. The girl in the back of the lorry was definitely Ashika. Seeing her name made him tingle.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Done this run before?&#8221; Jones asked, making Mark jump.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;No,&#8221; Mark replied. &#8220;You?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Thought not,&#8221; Jones said. &#8220;Would&#8217;ve recognized you. Done this a few times meself. Never gets any easier. Searchers keep finding more &#8216;n more of &#8217;em.&#8221; The older man flicked him a glance. &#8220;Strange, that, eh?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThere was a challenge in Jones&#8217;s voice that demanded the correct answer, something that was safe and appropriate to say. &#8220;Well, y&#8217;know, they breed like rats, don&#8217;t they?&#8221; He thought of Ashika and felt disgusted with himself. &#8220;So,&#8221; he added, trying to move the conversation on, &#8220;you been in the regiment long?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Nope.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;What did you do before?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Bit o&#8217; this, bit o&#8217; that,&#8221; Jones said noncommittally. &#8220;You?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Nuffin&#8217;,&#8221; Mark said.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJones frowned. &#8220;Why&#8217;s that?&#8221; he asked. &#8220;Man&#8217;s gotta work.&#8221; There was another challenge in his voice, sharp and almost angry.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMark swallowed; Jones was six inches taller and six stone heavier, built like he could bench-press the lorry. &#8220;It was hard,&#8221; he said, &#8220;until we started kicking this lot out. I&#8217;m working now, aren&#8217;t I?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Coming over here, taking out jobs?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Yeah, exactly.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJones nodded as if that told him everything he need to know and turned his attention back to the road.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nOutside, the Midlands were slowly becoming the Fens, the hills and farmland becoming flatter, gentler, duller. Mark was afforded a view of very little for miles in all directions.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nTwenty silent minutes farther on the road was blocked by plastic barriers. Soldiers patrolled on foot or glared from the Plexiglas windows of the temporary building that had been erected in the nearby lay-by. Mark and Jones got out and had their paperwork checked and double-checked. Still unhappy, the checkpoint&#8217;s lieutenant ordered the passengers out and the register confirmed. Jones rolled his eyes but they had to comply; there was no stronger force in Britain than bureaucracy. The passengers sidled back down the creaking ramp, arms wrapped around themselves to try and keep the cold out, the drizzle turning their paper suits translucent. Mark tried not to stare at Ashika.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;What have we got here then?&#8221; the lieutenant said, scanning the clipboard. &#8220;pakis, niggers, polskis. Got your hands full then.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Yeah.&#8221; Mark laughed obligingly.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Keep up the good work.&#8221; The lieutenant slapped the clipboard into Mark&#8217;s chest. &#8220;Everything will be better once they&#8217;re gone, mark my words.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Yeah.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAs the prisoners filed back up the ramp Mark couldn&#8217;t resist glancing at Ashika. She was glaring down at him, eyes narrowed, disgust etched in every line of her face. He looked away, like a kid caught staring in public. His shame burned, not just for what he had said but for the whole sorry situation, for the fact he made his living from carting illegals away like rubbish to a landfill. Seeing Asha had made him uncomfortably aware that illegals weren&#8217;t the enemy they had been painted as; they were people, too.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHis newfound anxiety continued in the cab as they drove on, the landscape continuing to flatten around them. After long minutes of consideration he plucked up the courage to speak. &#8220;That&#8217;s weird.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;What is?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Well, says here that some of the illegals are third generation. I thought we were only authorized to deport second generation.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Bet they&#8217;re plannin&#8217; on changin&#8217; the rules again,&#8221; Jones said. &#8220;You can report it if ya like?&#8221; He grabbed the cab&#8217;s radio mike and held it out.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThere it was again: the challenge, the anger in Jones&#8217;s voice. &#8220;No, no,&#8221; Mark said quickly. &#8220;I mean, it&#8217;s been checked, right? I&#8217;m sure someone would&#8217;ve said something if it&#8217;s wrong.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Thought so,&#8221; Jones muttered, and slammed the mike back.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe villages they passed seemed frozen in time, unchanged by current events. It was from here that the country&#8217;s new elite drew their power and support, and no matter how bad the cities got, how many homes and businesses burned to ash and how many lives were destroyed, the villages remained peaceful and picturesque. On the drive up Mark had found the sight of them comforting, the epitome of traditional Britishness. Now the sight of them made him feel sick.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThey hit a pothole and bounced, painfully. Mark imagined Ashika thrown across the back of the lorry, smashing her perfect face against the metal wall. He screwed his eyes shut until flares of light replaced the image. He searched for a distraction. &#8220;Any plans for leave this weekend?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Football,&#8221; Jones said. &#8220;You?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Yeah, the same.&#8221; He didn&#8217;t want to admit that he planned to play games online instead. &#8220;Who do you support?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nA sudden banging cut off Jones&#8217;s reply. &#8220;They&#8217;re gettin&#8217; rowdy,&#8221; he said instead.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMark pictured Ashika again, this time face down and still, the other prisoners hammering desperately on the walls as blood pooled around her face, soaking her soft, dark hair.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJones slowed the lorry and swung it into a lay-by. He swallowed nervously, the St George&#8217;s Cross on the back of his neck rippling as if caught by a strong breeze. &#8220;Better check &#8217;em.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Make sure they&#8217;re not causing trouble?&#8221; Mark said, hiding his relief.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJones opened his door. &#8220;The UN are about, inspecting. Can&#8217;t turn up with a lorry fulla dead people.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Might make our job easier.&#8221; The joke spilled from Mark&#8217;s lips without consideration from his brain, something he&#8217;d heard back at his base. Jones ignored him, climbed out, slammed the door behind him.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe lay-by was deserted. The Fenland wind gathered so much speed over miles of featureless terrain that it could cut to the bone. They dragged the ramp down for the third time in less than an hour and the prisoners peered out, wary, as if suspecting a trap. The acidic stench of something deeply unpleasant made Mark&#8217;s gorge rise.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAshika was the first out, and Mark&#8217;s heart sang to see her safe. He didn&#8217;t want Jones to think him soft, though, so he put a shaking hand on the pistol at his hip. &#8220;It&#8217;s Aggy,&#8221; Ashika said, head up, defiant. &#8220;She&#8217;s sick.&#8221; Her voice was pure Midlands now, no trace of her old London accent remaining. The change made Mark inexplicably sad.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJones said nothing but looked across at Mark. It felt like another test. &#8220;What&#8217;s wrong?&#8221; Mark barked, using the same imposing tone the other soldiers used with illegals.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAsha narrowed her eyes. &#8220;She&#8217;s sick,&#8221; she repeated, as if he was stupid. She was fearless, one hand on her hip, head cocked, staring him down, demanding that he do something. Her fierceness made him want her more than he had ever wanted anything or anyone in his entire life and for a crazy moment he saw himself racing off with her, across the flat Fenland fields, her knight in camouflage uniform. The sight of Jones, shaven-headed, tattooed, muscled fit to burst, was enough to freeze him in place, indecisive, hand on his gun, doing nothing.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJones shook his head and spat onto the tarmac. &#8220;Get her out,&#8221; he said.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAshika helped a tall blonde girl, probably Eastern European, down the ramp and held her hair back as she vomited in the bushes.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Water,&#8221; Jones said. It took a glare for Mark to realise the instruction was for him. He fetched a plastic bottle from the cab. Jones snatched it off of him and offered it to the sick Aggy.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nIt felt to Mark as if he was failing Jones&#8217;s tests.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nOnce Aggy was finished the two girls trooped back up the ramp without being told. Ashika turned to Jones. &#8220;Thank you,&#8221; she said. Mark burned with jealousy. He wanted to scream, to tell Asha that Jones was only covering his back, making sure they passed inspection, but he managed to stop himself.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThey got back in the cab and started off again. &#8220;Are the UN really inspecting?&#8221; Mark asked Jones He envisioned himself turned whistleblower, the UN allowing Ashika to stay, her calling him her hero. He liked that.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Yeah.&#8221; Jones stared at the road ahead like he wanted to kill it. &#8220;There&#8217;s a lotta talk that what we&#8217;re doin&#8217; is wrong. Crimes against humanity, they&#8217;re callin&#8217; it.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;How so?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;They reckon some of &#8217;em go missing, don&#8217;t make it back where they&#8217;re supposed to.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSilence descended, demanding to be filled. The bulldog and the pin-up on Jones&#8217;s arms danced as he twisted the steering wheel in a strangler&#8217;s grip. Mark had heard rumors, of course, but hadn&#8217;t given the matter any thought. Until now.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe searched for the right answer, thought of what his dad might say. &#8220;No great loss, eh?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJones&#8217;s laugh was bitter. &#8220;Some people,&#8221; he said, &#8220;killing&#8217;s too good for &#8217;em.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSilence reigned. Mark&#8217;s guts writhed like fighting snakes, afraid for Ashika and what might await her once their journey was complete. Lost in dark thoughts, he didn&#8217;t pay any attention when the radio squelched and Jones answered.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Change of plan,&#8221; Jones said. &#8220;Heading south to Stansted. Gonna hook up with a civvie flight.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;A civilian flight?&#8221; The snakes in Mark&#8217;s stomach tied themselves into tighter knots. &#8220;They&#8217;re off to five different countries. Makes no sense.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;They&#8217;ve got another camp there,&#8221; Jones said. He looked pissed off at the prospect of doubling their drive.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Never heard of it.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;You wouldn&#8217;t of. It&#8217;s secret. Can you believe, they call it a &#8216;black site&#8217;.&#8221; Jones&#8217;s laugh was still bitter.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJones words thumped home with the weight of a block of concrete, pressing on Mark&#8217;s chest, crushing him, making it impossible to breathe. He lowered the window and tried to get some air.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;What&#8217;s wrong with you?&#8221; Jones asked, devoid of sympathy.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMark fought to control his breathing. &#8220;Travel-sick,&#8221; he croaked. Jones muttered something sharp under his breath and carried on driving.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nIn the distance Peterborough still burned, a year on from the troubles. Smoke drifted on the horizon. They turned aside and headed south on the A1, following signs for London.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMark had to do something, now, before they reached this &#8220;black site&#8221;. No &#8211; Jones had a personal radio, would be reporting back to base in seconds. Could he overpower Jones? The older man&#8217;s shaven head was dented and scarred, his arms thick, his chest twice as wide as Mark&#8217;s. There was no way Mark would win any kind of physical confrontation.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThere was always the gun.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMark had barely fired the thing, had barely practiced due to his quick enlistment, a product of the troubles. He&#8217;d certainly never pointed it at anyone. The thought of shooting another person made him feel sick. Jones didn&#8217;t know that, though. All Mark had to do was scare Jones into getting out, leave him on the side of the road, and take off.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nIt was a crazy plan, had be if he was considering pointing a gun at someone driving a lorry at seventy-five down the motorway. He had no plan for what he would do after, either. He knew no sympathizers, no-one who would take in a dozen illegals. He was certain to lose his job, his family, everything.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBut he couldn&#8217;t just leave her.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe pistol&#8217;s grip was cold.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;I need a piss,&#8221; Jones declared. Mark&#8217;s hand sprang away from the gun as if it had burst into flame. They pulled over into the next lay-by and Jones got out, boots crunching on the thick layer of rubbish that littered the verge. He stepped into the bushes.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMark knew he had to get that radio off of Jones, at any cost. He got out on hollow legs and stepped round the front of the cab. Could he even pull the trigger, if Jones resisted? What if missed, gave himself away, got himself caught? As he tried to screw his courage up Jones turned, drawing his own pistol. &#8220;Hands up!&#8221; Jones yelled.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMark did as he was told.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;How&#8217;d you rumble me?&#8221; Jones jabbed at him with the gun. &#8220;What are ya, special ops? SAS? Fucking MI5?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;What?&#8221; The concrete block was back, pressing on Mark&#8217;s chest, starving his brain of oxygen, making it impossible to think.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJones flicked the muzzle towards the back of the lorry. &#8220;Move,&#8221; he said.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMark stumbled round the lorry like new-born Bambi.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Let &#8217;em out,&#8221; Jones ordered.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;What?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;You heard.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMark fumbled for his key. The ramp crashed down, chipping the tarmac. When he opened the hatch Ashika was waiting for him. Up close she stank of sweat and fear and weeks without washing, but looked perfect. He raised a hand to smooth the hair away from her face. If Jones was going to kill him, he wanted Ashika to know it was all for her.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe grabbed the pistol from his holster and smashed its butt into his face, turning the whole world white and sending him crashing down onto the ramp. When he could see again she was embracing Jones.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;You did it!&#8221; Ashika cried. &#8220;Uncle Steve, thank you!&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJones grinned. &#8220;Sorry it took so long, Asha.&#8221; He looked over her shoulder. &#8220;Good swing.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAshika gave Mark a look of utter contempt. &#8220;I thought he knew,&#8221; she said. &#8220;Bastard wouldn&#8217;t stop staring at me.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;I know.&#8221; Jones sneered. &#8220;Fucker was gonna pull a gun on me earlier.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMark spat a mouthful of blood onto the ramp. The illegals in the back of the lorry stepped away as if he was diseased. &#8220;You&#8217;re helping them? You can&#8217;t be.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJones laughed. &#8220;Why not?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Look at you,&#8221; Mark said. &#8220;Skinhead, tattoos&#8230;&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Typical,&#8221; Ashika said, &#8220;judging everyone by their appearance. And the things he said&#8230;&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;No, no,&#8221; Mark cried, raising his hands, &#8220;I was only trying to fit in. It&#8217;s just how people talk. I wanted to let you go. I did!&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAsha laughed. &#8220;Really?&#8221; Mark nodded. &#8220;Then why&#8217;d you always have your hand on your gun? Itchy trigger finger?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;No, no -&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;I nearly punched the little shit,&#8221; Jones interrupted, &#8220;blaming others &#8216;cos he couldn&#8217;t get a job. Said immigrants were rats!&#8221; He ticked Mark&#8217;s offences off on his fingers. &#8220;He didn&#8217;t wanna stop when you were banging. And he stood there watching Aggy puke without a care in the world!&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;No&#8230;&#8221; Mark trailed off. There was too much, all at once, for him to take in and make sense of. &#8220;Look,&#8221; he said, starting again, &#8220;Let me help. I can prove myself. I&#8217;m not like the others!&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;That&#8217;s what they all say.&#8221; Jones strode forward and jammed the gun into Mark&#8217;s face. Mark quailed. Jones laughed. &#8220;They&#8217;re always cowards, too.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;We went to school together.&#8221; Ashika spat the words out as if the memory disgusted her. &#8220;I quite liked him. Bastard&#8217;s changed. Probably thought I was just another Paki. Either that or he recognized me and didn&#8217;t care.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;No -&#8221; The rest of Mark&#8217;s sentence was choked off by a sob. &#8220;No, I knew. I wanted to help you run away. Please, you have to believe me!&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;I don&#8217;t have to do anything you say.&#8221; Ashika held up a small radio transmitter that had been concealed in her hand. &#8220;I heard everything you said, how you called us rats, how you laughed when we were called names, how you said it wouldn&#8217;t matter if we all died.&#8221; She bared her teeth in a savage snarl. &#8220;No. Great. Fucking. Loss.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;I didn&#8217;t mean it,&#8221; Mark sobbed. &#8220;I didn&#8217;t mean it.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Yeah, yeah.&#8221; Ashika raised the pistol. &#8220;Pull the other one.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThere was a bang, and blinding pain.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe world went white again, then black, then swam into focus. Asha stood over him, frowning. &#8220;We need to hide him,&#8221; she said. &#8220;Get him in the bushes.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nGrey clouds slipped sideways as someone dragged him by his ankles. He tried to kick out but his legs were frozen. White hot pain engulfed him as he was spun off the side of the road. Spindly branches cracked and fractured the sky. Asha, beautiful Asha, loomed over him, arms laden with plastic bottles and fast-food wrappers. &#8220;In with the rubbish, where you belong,&#8221; she said, and threw an armful of rotten litter onto him.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe was probably right.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe last sounds he ever heard were her footsteps, leaving him behind.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak \/><br \/>\n<a name=\"always\"><\/a><H1 LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"font-weight: normal; page-break-before: always\"><br \/>\n<FONT FACE=\"Times New Roman, serif\"><FONT SIZE=6>Good Guys Always Win<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/H1><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBy Aaron Grayum<\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n<em>All of this will be gone soon,<\/em> he thought, looking out his living room window at the quiet neighborhood. Ed Richards sipped his first coffee of the morning, admiring the poplar trees that lined both sides of the main road before it branched off into his cul de sac.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHis house was on a higher elevation than most in this part of Poplar Cove, and that gave him an extra advantage when watching the sunrise peek just over the trees. He wondered about the people who planted them \u2013 did they have families too? They probably had never lived here, and likely never even visited the street again once their job was done. Could they have imagined the saplings they were putting into the ground would one day grow up to be such magnificent relics, standing guard over the families who breathed them in? Could they have imagined how the lives of these trees, of those families, were going to end?<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe took another sip of coffee, not waiting for it to cool. It burned, and he held onto it until he could no longer feel its sweet black bitterness on his tongue, and then he let it continue its path down his throat.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe television had been unplugged since the weekend. He didn\u2019t want to know any more about what was happening. Several evenings ago he\u2019d watched the bombs take out a dozen cities on the east coast in just a few hours. Boston, New York, Charleston, Atlantic City, even as far south as Jacksonville. All gone. When they started hitting further inland, he just couldn\u2019t watch more of the same. It was total destruction of every place that got hit, and they were hitting <em>every<\/em> place. Their country was helpless. The president hadn\u2019t been seen for days. It was bad, and it sure as hell seemed like THE END. He didn\u2019t want the kids to know about any of that. He wished he hadn\u2019t known it himself.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHis wife walked up behind him. He put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed softly.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI think I\u2019m going to make some eggs, how do you want yours?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe didn\u2019t answer right away. He couldn\u2019t peel his eyes away from those trees. They seemed extra vibrant today and their solidarity felt comforting. \u201cThanks, hon. I don\u2019t think I feel like eating anything. Not this morning.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe rested her head on his shoulder. \u201cAny idea how much longer?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cNo,\u201d he sighed. \u201cJust feels like today could be the day, you know?\u201d He felt her head nod.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nEd couldn\u2019t tell how much time had passed as he stood there holding Carrie, and he was fine with that. Time was something they had spent far too long paying attention to, and he was done with it. Her hair smelled like cinnamon and he was quite alright with that.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe poplars just stood there, looking back at him, and they hadn\u2019t so much as swayed since he\u2019d gotten out of bed. They were like the Royal Guard, standing at attention despite the world making a fool of itself right under their noses. He couldn\u2019t remember the last time he\u2019d seen a bird in this area. He wondered where they\u2019d all gone, and if his family could go there too.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe house was still. The boys were asleep and the only sound was the hum of the fridge (the air conditioner had not yet switched on due to the unusually cool summer weather). Earlier, Carrie had plugged in the coffee maker just long enough to make a single pot, and then she unplugged it again. Conserving electricity was the rule now. The President had addressed the nation briefly before the attacks, and with his signature game show smile he assured everybody that the United States would prevail, and that sourcing every working power generator in the country toward that one goal would somehow help. Not once did he ever refer to this thing as a WAR. Of course that was back when Manhattan was still an island.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSeveral days ago, a tall man with a white moustache on an otherwise clean face stopped by the house. A badge dangled from a blue lanyard around his neck. On it was a black-and-white picture of a clean-shaven version of himself, and the letters DOE spread across it in all caps. Ed knew that the letters stood for Department of Energy. He also found it odd that there was no name on the badge either. The Moustached Man announced that he was operating under Executive Orders and going door to door, checking electric meters and walking through homes, making sure people were complying with the Emergency Energy Conservation Act. Maximum kilowatt hours had been established nationally, with southern cities being allowed more kWh per month than the northern ones during the summer. The Moustached Man quickly made his sweep through the lower level of the house, like a trained dog in a canine unit, and then walked upstairs and did the same. After a few moments he briskly descended the stairs, and with a nod and a cowboy grin, he told them ALL CLEAR and thanked them kindly for their service and to have a fine day. The screen door whacked sharply against the doorframe as he left, like a rimshot at the end of a bad joke.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nEd had wondered why the Department of Energy wouldn\u2019t just have the local government (or even the power company) do such a menial job. Couldn\u2019t Southern Electric just send out their meter-readers and report anybody who was playing too much Xbox? He watched The Moustached Man walk across the street to knock on the Silverman\u2019s door, and that was when Ed saw a large green truck that looked like something out of M.A.S.H. parked at the end of the street. The back of it was filled with men wearing camouflage and helmets, sitting along the siderails and holding M-16 rifles.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n<em>These are the good guys, right?<\/em> he thought.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nEd took another sip of his coffee. It didn\u2019t seem to be cooling off. Carrie leaned up and kissed his cheek and told him she was going to start some eggs anyway, and she\u2019d make him a few over-easy just in case he changed his mind. \u201cDon\u2019t worry, I\u2019ll unplug the stove as soon as I\u2019m done.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe walked off. In the distance, he heard what sounded like a low roll of thunder, and he thought about Moustache Man and the men holding M-16s, and he wasn\u2019t sure if the presence of the soldiers was supposed to make them feel safe or threatened.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nLast fall before any of this, Ed took the boys out to the lake up at Center Hill. He\u2019d wanted them to start learning how to fish, and with Chris in the 2nd grade now (Luke wasn\u2019t far behind him) they were old enough to start getting a feel for it.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThey tied down their camping gear into the back of the pickup, and the small fishing boat stuck out past the tailgate. The campground was about a half-hour west, and when they arrived they paid nineteen bucks for an overnight pass. Then they found their campsite and Ed pitched the tent while the boys watched. Then Ed gave them each a paddle and a fishing rod and he hoisted the boat over his head, and they walked the trail down to the water.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSometime later they still had not caught anything. He hadn\u2019t really expected to, he just wanted the boys to experience sitting on the water, drifting in silence and without anywhere to be.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThen Chris asked him a question he wasn\u2019t expecting:<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cDad, are bad guys real?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nEd stumbled, not anticipating that type of question. He sure as hell didn\u2019t want to answer it, either.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWhy are you asking that?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cMiss Tanner told us they were real, and that they were the ones that made those buildings fall down.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYour teacher told you that, huh?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cPeople died.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThat\u2019s right, they did.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cSo bad guys are real, right?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI wish I could say they\u2019re not, but they are.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cDo they want to hurt us?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWell&#8230;they do want to hurt some people, but not necessarily us.\u201d His own use of the word \u201cnecessarily\u201d made him cringe.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWhy do they want to be bad?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWell son, people have their reasons\u2013\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cDo they even know they\u2019re the bad guys?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI don\u2019t know that for sure but I imagine they must.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cBecause we\u2019re definitely the good guys, right dad?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cDefinitely.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI would never want to be a bad guy.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cOf course not.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cBecause the good guys always win, right?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cRight.\u201d Ed knew better, but what was he supposed to say?<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nChris sat in silence, looking out over the water with his fishing rod drooping near the water. Luke may have been listening, but he hadn\u2019t said anything. Ed hadn\u2019t noticed the clouds moving in until he heard thunder somewhere nearby.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cBetter get back to shore, guys. We don\u2019t want to get caught out here in the rain.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThey set down their poles in the boat and Ed picked up both paddles and handed one to Chris.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cDad?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYes?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThe bad guys \u2013 they aren\u2019t anywhere near us are they?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe question echoed back at Ed in his living room. He couldn\u2019t remember how he\u2019d answered it, and it seemed like such a long time ago. He figured he\u2019d said something about the bad guys being far away and that the Army men would surely stop them with their tanks before they got too close. And at the time he could have even believed that himself.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThere was a knock at the door, and it startled him out of this trance. He hoped the knock didn\u2019t wake the boys.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe looked through the peephole and saw the telltale gator-skinned cowboy hat perched atop his neighbor\u2019s much-too-tan scalp. It was Joe and he was propping the screen door against his back, like he was waiting to get invited in. Ed opened the front door.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cGood morning Joe.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cMornin\u2019, Buddy, hope I didn\u2019t wake you. Hey, ya mind if I borrow your boat for the day? I had mine all loaded up when I saw this crack in the seam, and I don\u2019t think it\u2019s busted all the way through yet, but I don\u2019t want to take the chance testing it out on the water. Know what I mean?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cSure, I guess. You know where it is, right?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYou bet. Thanks Eddie-boy, I\u2019ll try to bring her back in one piece!\u201d Joe said, his voice trailing off as he disappeared off the front stoop and ran around back. Ed lunged and caught the screen door before it could wake the kids.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe walked into the kitchen and leaned over the island and looked at Carrie, who had two eggs on a plate and was frying two more. She\u2019d unearthed the \u201cspecial occasion\u201d cast iron this morning. She asked him what all that was about at the door and he told her.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cHe should have invited you to go with him! I\u2019m sure you\u2019d have loved to get on the water one more time.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cIt\u2019s okay. Everybody wants to be on the water today, you know the lake\u2019s got to be packed. Besides, why on Earth would I want to spend today with him when I could be right here with you?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe smiled. The toast was ready. She pulled it and set it on the cutting board next to the butter, and then unplugged the toaster.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nCarrie had a sweet voice and he wanted to hear more of it this morning. She wasn\u2019t saying much, but she seemed content. She spread butter on the toast and cut it in half. Quiet wasn\u2019t so bad either though. The morning silence had been peaceful, and he was grateful for it, for her, for them.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSomething suddenly broke the silence behind them and they both jumped, and they saw Chris and Luke on the staircase, leaping off the third step from the bottom. Carrie laughed.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cLook who\u2019s up,\u201d she said. \u201cIt\u2019s not even eight! Who\u2019s hungry?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBoth boys raised their hands and ran over to the kitchen. Ed didn\u2019t know why they were in such good moods, he was just thankful they were.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYou boys can fight over my eggs,\u201d Ed said. \u201cI\u2019ll get in on the next round.\u201d He stood up and gave both boys a quick hug, kissing them on top of their heads, then poured himself another cup. \u201cHoney, what kind is this?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cIt\u2019s some kind of summer blend. I\u2019ve never seen it before.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cIt\u2019s good. You\u2019ll have to get more, this isn\u2019t going to last.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI\u2019ll be sure to do that the next time I go to the store.\u201d He knew she said that last part out of habit. It was hard to get over the thought of there being something called a \u201cnext time.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe walked back over to the window and looked out over the scores of roofs that seemed to stretch forever into the distance. Their house had been the first one built in this section, and that\u2019s how they\u2019d lucked into being on the hill at the end of a cul-de-sac. And it also gave them a sense of security, tucked in the back where nothing could get to them that didn\u2019t have to go through everybody else first.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThat\u2019s when he saw the mushroom clouds near the horizon. Not just one, but several. His blood froze, even with hot coffee running through his veins. <em>This must be what happened out east,<\/em> he thought. He\u2019d expected something different, like explosions or some dramatic flash of light. He\u2019d expected Hiroshima. But these mushrooms were silent and dark, appearing one-by-one across the sky like raindrops falling on a still lake. They seemed alive.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nA part of him wanted to run, but there was nowhere to run to. During tornado-packed evenings the family would huddle in the downstairs bathroom, listening to the static-filled radio until the storms passed. But this time there was no safe place to go, and the radios had been nothing but static for some time.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nFrom the kitchen poured beautiful sounds like he hadn\u2019t heard in months, maybe even years. Carrie was making up silly songs and singing them loudly, making the boys crack up as they tried singing along. He had no intention of making that wonderful painting of a scene end a moment before it had to.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe sky over their street was cloud-free for the moment, but that was about to change. The poplars were still. They were ageless guardians, and Ed\u2019s family was like a fragile figurine collection that the trees had sworn to protect.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBut there was only so much the trees could do. Today they could only stare and watch as the clouds moved closer by the second, each one seeming to be larger and darker than the one before. In a few minutes, the clouds would cover their street and invade their homes and bring darkness to everything. But not yet. For now, for at least the next few moments, the sky over their street was still quite nice.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nEd sighed and finished the last of his coffee. He slowly pulled the curtain closed and walked away from the window. He crossed the living room toward his family, unaware and blissful. He placed his mug in the dishwasher.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWe can\u2019t run that anymore, remember? Just set it in the sink instead and I\u2019ll get it after breakfast.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cHa! You\u2019re right, I forgot. Hey boys, you\u2019re mom\u2019s the greatest, isn\u2019t she?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThey gave their thumbs up approval as they began stuffing their mouths with eggs and toast.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe smiled.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe smiled back.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak \/><br \/>\n<a name=\"mortal\"><\/a><H1 LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"font-weight: normal; page-break-before: always\"><br \/>\n<FONT FACE=\"Times New Roman, serif\"><FONT SIZE=6>This Mortal Coil<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/H1><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBy Barry Corbett<\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cHe\u2019s real,\u201d said Freddy.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWhat? Who?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cDeath. The Grim Reaper.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWhat are you talking about?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI saw him, Dave. He was just as I pictured him.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThe Reaper,\u201d I said with some irritation. \u201cDeath himself.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYes! He\u2019s real! Are you listening to me?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI was used to Freddy\u2019s little jokes and this was not one of his better ones. When I turned to look at his face I expected his affable grin. Most of the time he can\u2019t keep himself from laughing. He wasn\u2019t even smiling and his face had a wild, intense look to it.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI replied, \u201cYou\u2019re not making any sense. How did you come to this conclusion?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThe climb, man. I was halfway up on Cannon when my carabiner malfunctioned. I was toast.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYou fell off of Cannon? Weren\u2019t you locked in?\u201d I asked. Of course, I knew the answer. Fred had long ago dispensed with the safety protocols. He had been free climbing for years and this was not his first serious accident. I sat down, prepared for yet another of his narrow escapes from the jaws of death&#8211;except that there was no death anymore. There hadn\u2019t been one in 340 years and for that reason his embellished stories were not the exception; they were fairly commonplace.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nWith a life expectancy of well over a thousand years, humankind had grown bored. Nobody died of old age. Our everlasting bodies were full of tiny Nanobots, their sole purpose to seek and repair cell damage at the molecular level. Accidents were rare due to electronic surveillance that reached even the most remote locations. Our microscopic caretakers operated as a single entity, communicating instantaneously over great distances. Death had been conquered, or so it seemed.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nWith a lifespan that stretched out infinitely before them, humanity had lost their sense of urgency. Generations of comfort had dulled our survival instincts, bringing progress and innovation to an interminable crawl.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe majority of mankind now fell into two categories, those who sleepwalked through their idyllic life seeking constant entertainment, and the StimSeekers who sought out physical risk, always on the lookout for dangerous experiences to make them feel more alive. Some of these adventurers found their way off-world, bound for the outer limits of the galaxy where unexplored planets were being colonized. As you may have surmised, Freddy was a Stimmer. He was always finding himself a new and ever more dangerous playground.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBut I digress. Fred was literally bursting with energy while waiting to tell his story. \u201cFine,\u201d I finally said. \u201cTell me the whole sordid tale.\u201d I knew it would be a whopper.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI was near the top of the cliff face when the carabiner snapped. I hung there for what seemed an eternity, one hand on the outcropping and the other grasping for the safety line, which, you know\u2026 I had unfortunately failed to secure. Nowhere to go, and my fingers were cramping up so I lost the grip. I must have plummeted four hundred feet, bouncing and rolling down the cliff face. I tell you, it was painful but I was still conscious!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI interjected, \u201cDidn\u2019t the MediDocs get there?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThat\u2019s the thing,\u201d he replied. \u201cI struck the ground but fell into a crevasse.  They knew where to find me but it took them hours to bring in a LaserScoop and carve up the mountain. The tree huggers are not going to be happy about that!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe laughed at that and then continued with renewed fervor. \u201cI was dead, man! Not the NearDeath. I think it was the real thing! I\u2019ve been through the NearDeath thing a number of times. Nothing to it.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHis face took on a new expression. I would describe it as awe.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cDave, this was different!\u201d he almost shouted. \u201cI was rushing through some kind of tunnel. There were frightening sounds, as if something lurked in there just out of sight. My body was different, lighter, almost as if I were made of pure energy. I was moving at a tremendous speed and, you know I love speed but this was beyond belief!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHis demeanor was beginning to frighten me but the story had me transfixed.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cSuddenly I was stopped cold. That\u2019s when I saw him.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThe Reaper.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYes, the Grim Reaper, the whole deal with the black cloak, the hooded skull face and even the scythe!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAt this point I began to laugh. He almost had me for a minute. I really ought to know better. \u201cCome off it, Fred. How gullible do you think I am?\u201d  His expression never changed.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cNo prank this time Davey. I saw him. It was Death himself, come to take me home.  He looked to be over seven feet tall&#8211;but his eyes, man&#8211;his eye sockets were like red coals. I looked into them and I felt fear like I had never experienced, a deep, crippling terror that had me rooted to the spot.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAgain, I tried to bring him back to Earth. \u201cFreddy, it had to be an hallucination. You know that can happen under extreme duress. There have been lots of incidents like that.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cNot like this, man. I knew this was real. I could feel it in my soul. I was dead! The real death, and he was there to claim me but something happened!  Maybe the MediDocs got there in the nick of time. During that moment when he first appeared, all sound and motion ceased. It was just him and me, all alone in the universe. His universe. Then I felt a tug, as if something called to me, urging me to return. My body moved away from him.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThat\u2019s when he spoke! It was more of an angry roar, a deep baritone scream that scared me even more, as if that was possible. Just two words, \u2018He\u2019s mine!\u2019 but it was too late. He reached out with the blade and almost got me but I was out of reach and gaining speed. For a moment he gave chase but he couldn\u2019t catch up. The critter seemed angry and frustrated. As he faded into the distance I heard him cry out in rage, an unearthly sound like you couldn\u2019t even imagine. That voice will haunt me for a thousand years.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nA chill ran up my spine. In that moment I believed Freddy, believed every word of it.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThe next thing I knew, the MediDocs were calling my name. I walked out of the Unit completely healed but I remember it, Dave. I remember it like it happened this morning. It was no vision, no drug induced fantasy. I was there and the worst part of it is, that I\u2019ll be there again someday\u2026and so will you.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe more we went over his story, the greater his conviction that it had been real. At some point I considered the possibility that this was no illusion and if that were so, what would that imply&#8211;that all of the various myths and legends over the centuries had some basis in truth? There was one way to find out. If we could simulate the near-death experience with a different subject, we might be able to verify Freddy\u2019s experience.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nFred had a number of StimSeeker friends who would probably jump at the chance for something this intense but I volunteered as the subject to ensure a more objective response. We had no trouble finding a crew to help us prepare for the experiment. Freddy\u2019s friends were game for anything that pushed the envelope. It was just another lark to them but many were qualified professionals who excelled in their chosen fields. It took us weeks to design the experiment, one in which the conditions were perfectly controlled in order to bring me as near to death as possible and coordinate the timing of my extraction. To do this, we had to delay the emergency transponders and roving MediBots long enough to prevent my resuscitation. What we planned was illegal. Of course, that made it all the more attractive to this bunch.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJulianna Mikita, a world-renowned BioSurgeon had the task of generating the electrical current that would stop my heart and follow it up with an injection of Epinrahl-D at precisely four minutes beyond the time of death.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMy goal was to disprove Freddy\u2019s conviction that his experience had been real. Unlike Fred, I had never been through NearDeath. As I lay on the Surgeon\u2019s table in the final moments before the event my mind was filled with apprehension, nor was Freddy his usual self. He knew what was in store for me if this actually worked.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cDave,\u201d said Julianna. \u201cYou\u2019ll feel a slight vibration as we inject you with a sedative and then, the lethal dosage.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI\u2019m ready, Dr. Mikita,\u201d I replied. Within seconds the room was fading around me. My fingers and toes suddenly went stone cold and I wondered if somebody had spilled ice water on them. There was no transition. The moment I went under I found myself hurtling through the tunnel that Fred had described. I felt the same transformation, as if my body was no longer bound by gravity, or any physical limitation. I was a being of pure light. The tunnel raced on, impossibly fast and I heard&#8211;no, I felt&#8211;the other entities around me, beings born of darkness, filled with a venomous rage. I felt fear, cold, numbing fear but the mysterious creatures kept their distance.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThere was a sudden shift in my perceptions. All motion ceased. Even the tunnel was gone. I was alone in a sea of nothingness when it appeared, a giant figure cloaked in black, its hooded face moving slowly toward me. Good God. It was true, all true! This fearsome apparition waited here for us, had waited over a thousand years to collect its grim fare. It raised its face and I gazed into two shadowy sockets where its eyes should have been, and those frightening cavities began to glow a deep, crimson red. I felt it looking directly into my soul. It knew me, knew of every private thought, every misguided action I had ever taken. There were no secrets from this dark, brooding demon. When it spoke, my fear elevated to panic.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThere are rules, David Schofield. You have made a grave error.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI hovered on the precipice, perfectly balanced between life and death. Then I felt them drawing me back to life. There was a strong tug and I began to move away from the specter. He did not give chase. He merely reached out with the scythe. With a ghastly feeling of dread I knew that they had not been quick enough. I raised my arms in defense but the blade touched the tip of my finger. I quickly accelerated, praying that the wraith would not follow. He merely laughed, a malevolent cackle in a voice like gravel. The sound continued to echo in my mind as I sped back towards life. Already I felt that something had changed. It began in the fingers and slowly spread down my arm. My body raced back through the tunnel and then, oblivion.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nVoices called out to me, familiar voices followed by bright lights and a tingling sensation in my limbs. Something was wrong. My right arm was completely numb.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cDave,\u201d shouted Freddy. \u201cYou okay, man?  Can you hear me?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nIt took a few moments before I could respond. I was no longer in the operating theater but on one of the aerial transports. We flew above the city in a roving MediUnit. Fred and Julianna sat beside me.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWas it there? Did you see him?\u201d shouted Fred. \u201cYou were screaming from the moment we awakened you.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI still feel like screaming. You were right. He was there. Listen! He touched me with the scythe. He touched me but I\u2019m still alive!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe arm was swelling and there was intense pain. I tried to close my fingers but they would not respond. I had known as soon as I felt his touch that something terrible had happened, some dark process had begun. Warning messages were plastered all over the BioMonitors. Julianna looked distressed as she studied the readouts while the MediBots did their best to stabilize me.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nFrom the moment the MediUnit landed I was surrounded by shouting physicians. I was ushered into an emergency room and connected up to every diagnostic tool they had available. Their drawn faces registered deep confusion. No, more like shock. Within twenty minutes, the arm had turned a grayish shade of blue. The pain radiated further and I felt similar sensations in other parts of my body. Above the operating theater, I could see a second crew conferring frantically with holoscreens, very likely the top specialists from around the world. It was not a comforting sight.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cIt\u2019s spreading Dr. Mansse, faster than we can control,\u201d shouted an attendant. \u201cWe\u2019re losing him.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMansse was studying new information. The team debated hotly for a moment but soon reached a consensus. It was the Nanobots. They were attacking the cells at an alarming rate, completely reversing the process they had been designed to perform, the work of eight hundred years undone in thirty-two minutes. Mansse looked horrified. It soon got worse. Two of the specialists cried out in pain, tearing off their surgical gear and revealing skin with the same sickly hue. The rest stepped away, grave apprehension written on their faces.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMansse literally shoved the team out of the room. \u201cQuarantine immediately!\u201d he barked. \u201cI\u2019ve never seen anything like this! Seal off this whole floor. No, the entire building. Nobody gets out!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nStepping out of the room, he pulled off his own gloves to reveal the same greyish skin. With a gasp he turned to the Observation Team and said, \u201cNanobots were designed with a hive mentality. They are programmed to communicate, not only with the body but with the entire hive instantaneously. You can\u2019t contain this; they don\u2019t require physical contact.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSoldiers in HazGear suits moved in and secured the lab. BioDisaster Control Bots swept the entire floor with HazMist.  Robotocists and Nano specialists worked furiously to cut off the Nanobots\u2019 communication. I knew I was doomed, the pain having spread throughout my entire body. I would last two more days lying in ZeroG isolation.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe infection spread with alarming speed. Every human body had millions of Nanobots traveling through their bloodstream. Within an hour sixty percent of the patients and employees had contracted the infection.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAndroid technicians took over my care and were kind enough to give me access to the NewsVid. I watched in horror as the Pandemic spread to the surrounding area, the Eastern Hemisphere and within a single day, the entire planet. Martial law was enacted but they needn\u2019t have bothered; we were dying so quickly that there was no time for rioting. The infection took hold within hours, immobilizing those who contracted it. The world was now in the hands of the androids, who did their level-headed best to control the chaos. In the end they were reduced to undertakers with the monumental task of collecting and incinerating the bodies of twelve generations.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSpaceports were immediately shut down across our entire world. Orbiting military stations were ordered to destroy any ship that tried to leave the planet. Earth would become a tomb, our home world forever lost to the space faring colonists. Our orphaned children had miraculously been spared; the Nanobots were not introduced before full maturity. The androids would see them safely off world, where they could be absorbed into the colonies.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nNearing my last, gasping breath, I waited for the Reaper to arrive. As the moment drew near and my vision began to dim, his hulking figure loomed above my rapidly aging body, those glowing coals once again peering through my soul.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI whispered one last question, \u201cWhy, demon?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe leaned in closer and the rasping voice replied, \u201cI was bored.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak \/><br \/>\n<a name=\"tehran\"><\/a><H1 LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"font-weight: normal; page-break-before: always\"><br \/>\n<FONT FACE=\"Times New Roman, serif\"><FONT SIZE=6>The Clones of Tehran<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/H1><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBy Mark Hill<\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nDrones buzzed overhead as Miller entered the restaurant. The front looked normal enough, but the back half was a mess of rubble and blood. Policemen collected evidence and took statements as paramedics carried out bodies covered in white sheets. Miller flashed his badge at the soldier who greeted him and walked over to a pair of policeman chatting in the corner.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWell, if it isn\u2019t my favorite buddy cop duo.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cMiller.\u201d Ezra, the taller of the two, offered his hand. The short, perpetually scowling Ali merely nodded.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cHow many this time?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWe\u2019re still scraping bits and pieces off the ceiling, but at least twenty. Mostly civilians, plus a couple IDF soldiers on patrol.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cAny ideas on a motive, besides the usual troublemaking?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThe owner is related to one of the big shots in the Transitional Government,\u201d said Ali. \u201cBut he wasn\u2019t in the restaurant today.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWouldn\u2019t be the first time they\u2019ve acted on shoddy intel.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMiller pursed his lips as he glanced around the remains of the building. This was, what, the third bombing this week? Fourth? At least it wasn\u2019t as bad as the mosque. Shame, though\u2014he had always meant to eat here.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cAnother vatman?\u201d he said.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cDo you even have to ask?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cNo need to get snippy, Ali. Let me know when your tech boys have figured out what the bomb was made of. I want to know how they got past the sensors this time.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cOne of the witnesses said he saw the host slip out the door right after the bomber came in,\u201d said Ezra. \u201cWe\u2019re thinking he was bribed to disable the sensors.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cFind him, fast. Shouldn\u2019t be hard for Tehran\u2019s finest, right?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nNeither of the men looked amused by Miller\u2019s joke. He made a mental note not to try another one just as his ear buzzed.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cMiller? It\u2019s Browning.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWhat\u2019s up, Chris?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThe police have a guy they\u2019re pretty sure has a connection to the Guard. They\u2019re holding him for us.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cIs \u2018pretty sure\u2019 more or less sure than when they were \u2018really sure\u2019 about that student being a Guard agent?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cCome on, just get down here. I just had to listen to another lecture from Langley, and that was before they heard about the latest bomb.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cAlright, I\u2019m on my way.\u201d To the policemen he said, \u201cDuty calls, gentlemen. I take it you know the drill by now?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThey nodded and went back to picking through the rubble. Miller walked back out into the beautiful spring evening, taking care not to step in any blood on the way.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nLight, muffled sounds. Blobs moving on the other side. He was used to all this. But the sounds were louder now, the blobs closer. Suddenly, the liquid that suspended him began to drain away. He felt his feet touch something cold, heard a crack and a hiss. The other side was coming to him. He was scared.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nA door swung away and a blob took shape. It looked like him. The man offered him his hand. He hesitantly took it.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cHello, Navid. My name is Yousef.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI am\u2026 Navid?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe man smiled. \u201cYes. Yes you are.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe interrogation room was cramped and grimy. A paunchy middle aged man, head drooped, was tied to a wooden chair in the center. Behind him were two policemen, their faces blank. Browning stood by the door. Leaning against the wall was Simon, the Mossad man.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWhat do we got, Browning?\u201d asked Miller.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThis is Saeed. Runs a bakery near the school that was bombed last week.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYeah? His bread any good?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cBeats me.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMiller lifted the man\u2019s head up. His face was battered and bruised, his nose broken. The fear in his deep brown eyes made Miller think of the deer he used to hunt back home.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cChrist, Simon, what did you do to him?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWe were just getting to know each other.\u201d Simon grinned.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cDo you actually think this guy\u2019s with the Guard, or are you just looking for an excuse to beat up some Iranians?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSimon\u2019s smile vanished. \u201cDon\u2019t tell me how to do my job, Miller.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMiller saw the policemen exchange a glance.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cAlright, Simon, I\u2019ll show you.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMiller lifted the prisoner\u2019s head up again. Taking a cloth from his pocket, he wiped the blood from the man\u2019s nose. In Farsi he said, \u201cHey, Saeed. My name\u2019s Miller. We\u2019re going to have a little chat.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI didn\u2019t do anything.\u201d Saeed\u2019s voice was ragged.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI\u2019d like to believe that, but you\u2019ve got to convince me. You have any friends in the Guard?\u201d Miller crouched down to Saeed\u2019s level.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cNo. I don\u2019t want trouble.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cCome on, you\u2019re an older guy. No buddies from before the war you\u2019ve been staying in touch with?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cMy \u2018buddies\u2019 were killed in the invasion.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYou sound a little bitter, Saeed.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cNo! No, I don\u2019t want any problems.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMiller glanced back at Simon. \u201cYou have any motives for this guy, or are you just wasting my time?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cMoney. Our baker is in debt, and his creditors are\u2026 impatient.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThat true, Saeed? You having money troubles?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cPeople are afraid to go outside and shop. I had to take a loan to keep my bakery open.\u201d The man had calmed down a little when Miller started talking to him, but now he sounded nervous again.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cMust be tough to pay back a loan when the economy\u2019s in shambles. But I hear the Guard pays well for help\u2026\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI would never work with them! Please, I swear.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cSaeed, what\u2019s the name of the man you owe money to?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cKarim. He\u2019s a thug, but I was desperate.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMiller stood and addressed the policemen. \u201cWhat was the name of the guy who tipped you off?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cKarim, sir,\u201d said the Iranian one.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cSo our suspect owes money to a man named Karim, and you roughed him up because a man named Karim told you he might be a terrorist. Great fucking detective work, guys. Really impressive stuff.\u201d Miller clapped as the policemen dropped their gaze. \u201cHey, Simon, I thought you were supposed to be teaching these guys not to be such dumbasses.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSimon glared at Miller, then the police.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cCome on, Chris, let\u2019s get out of here.\u201d Miller left the room.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nNavid liked Yousef. Yousef was a nice man who was teaching Navid a lot. He told Navid that they were both people called Iranians, and that they could not go outside because people called Americans and Israelis were trying to kill Iranians. But Yousef taught Navid how to behave for when they were allowed to go outside. He showed Navid pictures and videos of what outside looked like. Outside looked nice. Yousef also showed Navid pictures of Americans and Israelis. They looked mean. Navid didn\u2019t like those pictures.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nNavid did like his brothers. They all looked just like Navid, though their names were different. Yousef was teaching them, too. He said that one day, hopefully soon, they would all get to go outside. Navid liked to talk with his brothers about what outside might be like, though Yousef didn\u2019t like it when they talked without him. He said that would put silly ideas in their heads. Navid didn\u2019t understand, but he obeyed. He trusted Yousef.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nNavid didn\u2019t like Hamid. Hamid was rude to Navid and his brothers. He was even rude to Yousef. Yousef would tell Hamid to be patient, and he would go away for a few days. But then he would come back and be rude again. He had just come for another visit, which had put Navid in a bad mood. But Yousef had just announced that he had exciting news, which made Navid happy. He couldn\u2019t wait to hear it.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMiller looked up from a dossier on the restaurant host Ali and Ezra had tracked down. \u201cTake that next right,\u201d he said to Browning.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cRight? Isn\u2019t it faster to go by the university?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cNot if you want this hunk of junk to stay in one piece. Students are protesting again.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cAgain? Jesus.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMiller laughed. \u201cWhat do you think of your first couple weeks in Iran, kid?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI think it\u2019s a mess. Half the country wants democracy, the other half wants the Ayatollah back, the Mossad doesn\u2019t want either, and none of them trust us. How the hell are we supposed to do anything?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cDon\u2019t worry, we don\u2019t have to rebuild the place. We just need to stop the Guard from blowing people up long enough for the Israelis to slap together a government that can keep order while still kissing their ass, and then we can go home until somebody fucks things up again. So, a few months.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cDamn, Miller.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMiller laughed. \u201cIt\u2019s not that bad. We\u2019re here to save lives\u2014that\u2019s a good thing no matter whose side you\u2019re on. Hell of a lot better than what I had to do in Damascus. Take that left.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYou served in Damascus?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI don\u2019t want to talk about it.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThey drove in silence the rest of the way to the police station. Miller watched a drone fly by before they entered the building.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nEzra was waiting for them at his desk. It hadn\u2019t been long since Miller last saw him, but he looked more stressed.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cMiller, Browning.\u201d He didn\u2019t offer a hand.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cEzra. Where\u2019s your buddy?\u201d asked Miller.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cStakeout. Our restaurant host was\u2026 talkative.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYou don\u2019t sound convinced.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cIt didn\u2019t take much to get him going. The Guard must be getting desperate if they\u2019re hiring unreliable help. Either that or he\u2019s lying. My bet\u2019s on the latter.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cLet\u2019s hope you\u2019re wrong. What did he say?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nEzra swiveled his monitor around, showing them a picture of a house. \u201cSays the Guard have been operating out of here.\u201d The address indicated it wasn\u2019t far from the station.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cLooks big enough to hold a cloning lab,\u201d said Browning. \u201cBut how could they suck up that much power without drawing suspicion?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThere are ways to mask consumption,\u201d said Miller. \u201cStill, they\u2019d have to have some serious balls to run one of their labs just outside the Green Zone.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cHiding in plain sight, I guess. I don\u2019t buy it, though,\u201d said Ezra.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI take it this is what Ali is checking out?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYeah, he\u2019s keeping an eye on it. Hasn\u2019t reported anything unusual yet, though.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cGuess we should pay a visit. Thanks, Ezra.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMiller and Browning stood to go. Ezra was already on the phone, learning about the latest problem.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nNavid was very happy. He had been wondering why he had not seen some of his brothers recently, and now he knew it was because they had gone outside! He asked Yousef when they would come back, and was sad to hear that they were too busy outside to come and visit. But he cheered up when he was told that soon he would get to go outside, too. He had already been allowed to leave their home\u2014Yousef had brought him into what he knew was called a van. He was in the back of the van, so he couldn\u2019t see outside, but he enjoyed being bumped up and down and side to side as they moved. But the van hadn\u2019t moved for quite some time, and Navid was getting lonely\u2014none of his brothers were with him. Yousef had promised that he would be back soon, and that once Navid went outside he would be reunited with his brothers. So Navid waited patiently, smiling as he imagined the wonderful things his brothers would tell him.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMiller and Browning slipped into the backseat of Ali\u2019s car. Ali was looking out the window with a pair of smart specs and, to Miller\u2019s annoyance, Simon was with him.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI was wondering when you two would show up,\u201d said Simon. He removed his specs and handed them to Miller. \u201cHave a look.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMiller slipped the glasses on. The house at the end of the street zoomed into view.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cLooks normal enough. What do you think, Ali? You\u2019ve been here a while.\u201d Miller gave the specs to Browning.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI think we\u2019re wasting our time. It\u2019s been a bit busy, but nothing suspicious.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI disagree,\u201d said Simon. \u201cI had a chat with a few of the neighbors. \u2018A bit busy\u2019 would be a severe understatement.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cAlright, well, keep watching it and we\u2019ll see what happens,\u201d said Miller. \u201cSound good to you, Ali?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cJust perfect.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWe can\u2019t afford to sit around and wait. By the time our suspicions are confirmed there will be another bombing,\u201d said Simon.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cSo what, you want to send a team in?\u201d asked Miller.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cForget it,\u201d said Ali. \u201cWe\u2019re not going to send police in there. Do you have any idea how many booby traps the Guard will have set up?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSimon swore. \u201cFine, then I\u2019ll call in a strike. But don\u2019t blame me if it gets messy.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYou want to use a drone? In the middle of a suburb?\u201d Ali removed his specs and stared at Simon. \u201cAre you crazy? Come on, Miller, back me up here.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYou sure about this, Simon?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cVery.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMiller and Browning exchanged a look.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYour call, boss. I\u2019m just the new guy.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cFuck you, Chris.\u201d Miller sighed. He thought of the restaurant and the mosque, and the men back home demanding results. \u201cAlright. Hit it.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSimon got on the phone and said a few words in Hebrew. Then they waited.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nIt didn\u2019t take long. There was a buzz, a boom, a flash. When the dust cleared, they saw the house had turned to rubble. Miller heard a few screams, but he had learned to tune those out long ago.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe men got out and walked down the road, passing fleeing civilians as they went. They found bodies in the wreckage, a man and a girl that had been crushed by the collapsing second story. Blood and body parts suggested others in the house had been caught in the explosion.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cShit,\u201d said Ali. \u201cI told you.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cMaybe if your men weren\u2019t jumping at shadows we wouldn\u2019t have to resort to this,\u201d said Simon.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe men glared at each other. Miller worried it would come to blows, but Browning relieved the tension by calling them over.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cBasement\u2019s over here.\u201d He pulled out a penlight and shone it down the stone steps.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cLet\u2019s have a look.\u201d Miller led them downstairs and flashed his own light around. The shock of the strike had made a mess, but his eye still caught things that were out of place. Somebody had left in a hurry.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSimon plucked a fluid sack from the ground and waved it in Ali\u2019s face. \u201cYou told me, huh? Look familiar?\u201d It was the liquid used to sustain vatmen while they were gestating.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYou think that\u2019s proof? Where\u2019s the rest of the lab?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cOh, shit,\u201d said Miller. \u201cIt\u2019s mobile.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWhat?\u201d Simon wheeled around to face Miller.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cTheir labs are mobile. They make a vatman, break the lab down and scatter the pieces, then reassemble in a different location. Hell, they could even be making them in stages.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThat would explain how they\u2019re masking their power use,\u201d said Browning. \u201cIf they only spike the power for a day or two, it wouldn\u2019t be enough to arouse suspicion.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cHell, they could even be running on generators. And they could be sneaking into houses when the owners are gone, bribing or threatening people for an overnight stay, calling in favours\u2026 Jesus.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cIf you\u2019re right, this means a complete change in tactics. We\u2019ll need to start searching cars, too.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWe\u2019re already stretched thin,\u201d said Simon.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWell, we don\u2019t exactly have a choice.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAli had wandered off to take a call, and now rejoined the group. \u201cThat was Ezra. You\u2019re going to want to hear this.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nNavid was so excited, not even the presence of Hamid could dampen his spirits. He was going to go outside! The van was moving again, and Yousef was giving him instructions as Hamid fitted a vest on him. It was a little bulky, but Navid didn\u2019t mind.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nYousef was telling him that he would see some Americans and Israelis when he went outside, but he needed to be nice to them. He asked Yousef if they would try to kill him, and Navid said they wanted to, but couldn\u2019t. He asked why, but Yousef told him to stop asking questions. He was a little rude to Navid, which was unlike him, but Navid thought he was just sad to see him leave.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHamid put something in Navid\u2019s hair and eyes that changed their color. As he did this, Yousef told Navid what he had to do outside. They were going to let Navid out near a restaurant, and Navid was to go in and order some food. Yousef told him to enjoy his food until a man\u2014Yousef showed him a picture\u2014arrived. This man was a friend of Yousef\u2019s, and Navid was to go over and introduce himself. He was then supposed to press a button on his vest, which would let Yousef know the man was there. Then Yousef would come and tell him what to do next.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nYousef kept repeating his instructions, but for the first time in his life Navid ignored him. He was too busy wondering what he would be able to eat at the restaurant.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMiller sipped his drink as he watched people enter the restaurant. Simon sat across from him, toying with his food.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe presumed target of the last restaurant bombing was visiting his other two establishments, to ease the concerns of jittery workers. Miller couldn\u2019t decide if the man was very brave or very foolish, but either way he was a target. As they looked for vatmen here, Browning and Ali were across town doing the same.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMiller had seen army and labor vatmen, and he\u2019d seen what was left of the corpses of the vatmen the Guard were using, but he had never had to pick out a live bomber. He looked for single diners, or pairs of men that were suspiciously similar\u2014but the Guard were good at disguising their operatives, and that sent his heart racing whenever someone so much as dropped a fork.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe had his eyes on one man sitting in the corner, and a pair not far from him. Simon, looking in the other direction, had his own targets. Their table in the center of the room gave them a view of the entire restaurant, but it also meant they would be caught in a blast no matter where it came from.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThere\u2019s our man,\u201d said Simon. The owner had arrived. Miller wrapped his hand around his gun.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nNavid was having the time of his life. Outside was loud and confusing, but by sitting in the corner of the restaurant and watching the world go by he was starting to get a grip on it. He gave a friendly smile to anyone who looked at him and, to his great satisfaction, most people smiled back. Even the Americans and Israelis were being friendly. That confused him, but maybe they had been told to pretend to be nice just like he had been.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nNavid especially liked his food. It was far better than what Yousef had fed him, although he wouldn\u2019t tell him that. He didn\u2019t want to hurt Yousef\u2019s feelings. He didn\u2019t even know what he was eating was called\u2014overwhelmed by the menu, he asked the waiter to bring him the tastiest food the restaurant had. That had amused the waiter. Navid raved about how much he loved his meal whenever the waiter came to check on him, and that made the waiter very happy. He would have to ask the waiter what the name of it was.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe man in the picture entered the restaurant. Navid tensed\u2014this was his chance to prove to Yousef that he could be trusted. This was his chance to prove that he belonged outside.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe let the man and his companions get settled as he thought about how best to approach him. When he decided, he stood up and walked to the man\u2019s table. He was so excited that he walked very quickly.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAnother man, an American, got up and blocked Navid\u2019s path. He spoke to Navid in a deep voice.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cHey. What\u2019s your name?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThis American was not pretending to be nice like the others. He sounded stern yet nervous, like he didn\u2019t trust Navid. Navid didn\u2019t like this man, but he remembered Yousef\u2019s instructions and responded politely.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI\u2019m Navid.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cHello, Navid. My name\u2019s Miller.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cIt\u2019s a pleasure to meet you.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWhat are you doing here today, Navid?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI\u2019m just enjoying a meal.\u201d That was what Yousef told Navid to say if anyone questioned him.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cOh yeah? You seem to be in a hurry to go somewhere.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI saw a friend. If you would please excuse me, I would like to talk to him.\u201d Navid tried to step around the American, but the man did not relent.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWhat\u2019s your friend\u2019s name, Navid?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry, I must go speak with him.\u201d Yousef had not told Navid the name of his friend. The American was making Navid very nervous.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWhat\u2019s the rush? I\u2019d like to ask you a few things.\u201d The American put his hand on Navid\u2019s shoulder. He was smiling now, trying to look friendly, but he didn\u2019t fool Navid.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI\u2026\u201d Yousef had not told Navid what to do if this happened. He was getting very worried.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cHow did you get here, Navid?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cA\u2026 a friend drove me.\u201d Navid decided to be honest with the American. All Yousef wanted Navid to do was say hello to a friend. There was nothing wrong with that. If the American realized that, he would have no reason to distrust him.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cA friend, huh? Did your friend ask you to do anything while you were here?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cHe told me to say hello to his friend.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYeah? Anything else?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cHe told me to press a button.\u201d Navid opened his jacket to show the American his vest. He saw a man behind the American point something at him, and then he saw nothing at all.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cJesus Christ, Simon!\u201d Miller wiped blood and brain from his shirt. \u201cI was trying to bring him in alive!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThere was panic in the restaurant. People ran or hit the ground while soldiers rushed in to control the situation.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSimon kicked the vatman to make sure he was dead. \u201cHe was going for the trigger.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cBullshit. He was answering my questions. I had him under control.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYou don\u2019t know that.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThe hell I don\u2019t. Weren\u2019t you listening to us?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI wasn\u2019t about to risk the lives of everyone in here so you could have a chat with a terrorist vatman.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cDo you have any idea how valuable a live one would be to us?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBefore Simon could respond the restaurant\u2019s owner, pale-faced and trembling, asked them for an explanation of what just happened. Miller left Simon to answer. He stepped outside and watched as a drone soared overhead.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak \/><br \/>\n<a name=\"rat\"><\/a><H1 LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"font-weight: normal; page-break-before: always\"><br \/>\n<FONT FACE=\"Times New Roman, serif\"><FONT SIZE=6>Space Rat Black<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/H1><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBy Aidan Doyle<\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI peered through the coffin window at the dead alien. &#8220;Are we at war with them?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nYuko shrugged. &#8220;I&#8217;ll have to check the database.&#8221; Nothing the universe threw at Yuko \u2013 from exposed biological hazards to escaped flesh eating cargo \u2013 fazed her.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe Ithpek vessel had no crew and no declared cargo other than the blue-scaled humanoid stored in the hold. The inspection station&#8217;s scanners had verified the ship as clean. No trace of biological, nuclear, or chemical weapons or toxic nanobots.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;We were at war with the Ithpeks for about six years,&#8221; Yuko said. &#8220;The conflict ended forty-four years ago.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Who won?&#8221; I asked. Endless political tangles meant whole species were sometimes annihilated before outlying worlds even learned there was a war going on.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Their colonies surrendered after we nuked their home world.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;Go us.&#8221; The dead alien&#8217;s final destination was listed as Tokyo&#8217;s Museum of Defense. It must be a trophy.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI double-checked the ship&#8217;s flight logs. The ship had left an Ithpek colony world forty-three years ago, just after the war ended, but something just didn&#8217;t feel right. &#8220;I&#8217;m going to run a more detailed background check.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nRequesting information from the station&#8217;s byzantine computer system was a painful process. If I&#8217;d been on duty with anyone but Yuko, I would&#8217;ve had to justify the delay.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI joined Yuko by the ship&#8217;s viewport and we waited for the computer&#8217;s report. The viewport showed a dozen ships waiting to dock at the station. A deep space cruiser bypassed the line and proceeded to a private hangar.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nYuko zoomed the view in on the cruiser. A Kurohoshi Nisshoku, the fastest human ship ever built. &#8220;Captain Wonder got himself a new toy,&#8221; she said, using her nickname for Hashimoto, the station&#8217;s chief administrator.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe closest I would ever come to owning a spaceship was playing a space sim. At least there were some advantages to working at Earth&#8217;s most important space station. Any cargo bound for Earth had to clear our inspection teams, which meant every day I got to board a dozen different alien spaceships.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe station computer confirmed the accuracy of the ship&#8217;s logs. The Ithpek vessel had left the colony after the war ended. The delivery code for the Museum of Defense was authentic.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI looked over the ship&#8217;s stopping points. The logs said the vessel had taken four years to travel from the Ithpek colony world to the first world in human space. That didn&#8217;t sound right. I checked my calculations three times. A vessel of this class couldn&#8217;t have made the trip in less than six years. What if the vessel had left earlier than claimed, when the Ithpek were still at war with humanity?<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nRepeated scans by the station&#8217;s scanners showed the spaceship as free of dangerous substances, but interstellar shipping law dictated a hazard team inspection if an inspector called an alert. Before Hashimoto took over the station and made cutbacks, hazard teams always arrived within ten minutes of an alert being issued. It took more than thirty minutes before the hazard team arrived. They scanned the bridge, engines and cargo hold with their handheld scanners, then transferred the data to the station.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI waited anxiously as the minutes ticked by.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe station&#8217;s computer system consisted of a dozen outdated operating systems patched together by dead species technology. Kurohoshi had won the salvage right to plunder abandoned Werleth orbitals after the Werleth were exterminated by a coalition of more than seventy different species. No one alive spoke Werleth, but the translation modules were supposed to ensure a problem-free system. Using an extinct species&#8217; technology was deemed to be cheaper than building something yourself and supposedly made the system more difficult to hack into. It also made it more difficult to upgrade.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nTeam Leader Nakagawa&#8217;s scanner beeped. &#8220;All clear.&#8221; Nakagawa glared at me. &#8220;When you are dealing with relativistic travel and who knows how many interstellar time zones and ways of measuring time, you can&#8217;t rely on dates being that accurate.&#8221; She led the hazard team off the vessel.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMy messagevault was bombarded with messages giving me guidance on how to love Kuroshoshi better. Didn&#8217;t I know that every delay cost the company dearly? Regulations forbade the punishment of an inspection worker that had due reason to call a hazard alert, but the company would find ways to make me suffer.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI retreated to the sanctuary of the station&#8217;s tea room. Yuko and I floated in zero gravity, canisters of green tea in hand. The first great tea master, Sen no Riky?, had stressed the importance of simplicity and criticized the love of ornamentation. Later tea masters argued gravity was another affectation hindering the contemplation of the purity of tea.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nYuko squeezed my hand. &#8220;Things will get better, Sora.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n&#8220;I&#8217;m okay.&#8221; We floated in silence, savoring the tea. All day long I smelled nothing but sterilized and recycled air. The tea&#8217;s aroma helped remind me that I was still alive.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI had never drunk much tea until I met Toru. Now every time I drank green tea, it brought back the taste of Toru&#8217;s lips after a tea ceremony. Yuko&#8217;s brother had been a kind, gentle man that filled my days with happiness. After he died in a refueling accident it felt as though my life broke into little pieces. Yuko&#8217;s support was the only thing that kept me sane.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI said good night to Yuko and retired to my capsule in one of the station&#8217;s sleeping caverns. The capsule bore a splash of gray paint indicating my status as a space rat. Minatonezumi iro &#8211; harbor rat gray &#8211; had once been scorned as the color of ash, but after Sen no Riky?&#8217;s call for simplicity, the rich began to covet the austerity of gray clothes. Space rat gray uniforms were supposed to be a source of pride, but I wanted the black of a spaceship captain.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe company had painted the slogan, &#8220;I work hard. I have a simple life. I am happy,&#8221; on the capsule&#8217;s door. It&#8217;s good to celebrate simplicity, but encouraging a life without desire is useful if you want to pay minimum wage.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI peeled off my uniform and crawled into the capsule. A photo of Toru&#8217;s smiling face looked down from the capsule&#8217;s ceiling. The company had used the cheapest possible fuel for their ships and it had led to Toru&#8217;s death. My efforts to prove Kurohoshi&#8217;s negligence had gone nowhere.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMy messagevault filled with daily evaluations from my co-workers. The word stubborn was mentioned so often in my evaluations that I&#8217;d written a script that replaced stubborn with a smiley face. Tonight my reports looked very happy.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI was tired, but followed the company guidelines of reviewing my mistakes. My own calculations shouldn&#8217;t take precedence over the station&#8217;s computer. But what if the computer was wrong? Its scanning capabilities had been thoroughly tested, but no system was foolproof.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI opened a data window and accessed the species encyclopedia. The Werleth had been deemed too aggressive by their galactic neighbors. After they had been exterminated, Kurohoshi inherited their computer technology. I scanned the list of other acquisitions. My heart skipped a beat. An Ithpek colony had won the right to the knowledge accumulated by the Werleth Academy of Advanced Mathematics. If the Ithpek had the mathematics to unlock the Werleth encryption the ship could have altered the results of the scan.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI called up the station docking schedule. The Ithpek vessel had been detained for twelve hours because of my alert, but was due to be released in forty-five minutes. It would be free to proceed to Earth.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nRepeated warnings about the same ship would be viewed as insubordination. By the time I explained to Nakagawa it would be too late. Besides, I still didn&#8217;t have proof.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI shrugged on my uniform and crawled out of the capsule. If I caused any more delays and I was wrong, the company would charge me for the lost time. I would never be out of debt.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMy access privileges hadn&#8217;t been revoked and I boarded the Ithpek vessel. My after hours entry would hurl a storm of notifications at my superiors. I had to find proof before someone came and removed me from the ship.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nInspection teams carried handheld scanners that sent data to the station computer, which was kept up to date with the signatures of the endless varieties of possible hazards. Backup scanners with offline analysis functionality were rarely used as they required manually updating, but I needed something that didn&#8217;t rely on the station computer for its results.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI activated the scanner and waited for it to do its work. A camera feed provided me with a view of the corridor leading to the hangar. The corridor was still empty. &#8220;Hurry up! Hurry up!&#8221; I urged the scanner.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nIt buzzed. Red light.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe coffin contained a host of toxic nanobots. If the microscopic robots were unleashed on Earth, their poison could kill millions.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI didn&#8217;t hesitate. I issued a station-wide emergency hazard alert, which would lock down all ships. The company would be furious, but it was cheaper than the costs they faced if the nanobots escaped on Earth.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nNothing happened.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI tried again.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nNothing. The ship computer must have blocked my command.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThere wasn&#8217;t time to panic. I had to think clearly.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe Ithpek must have got hold of authentic delivery codes and sent the ship as a last desperate measure near the end of the war. The ship had used a mathematical trick to break the Werleth encryption and taken control of the station&#8217;s computer.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI had to get control of the ship&#8217;s computer. I loaded a schematic of the Ithpek vessel from my personal database. There was no easy way to get at the hardware configuration panels to do a factory reset.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe Ithpek vessel only had a Limited Intelligence rather than a true AI, but the vessel must have been programmed to respond to anything it deemed to be a threat to its mission. A real AI would have spaced me by now. For once a cost cutting measure had worked in my favor.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nIf I didn&#8217;t act quickly, the ship was going to release its deadly cargo on Earth. Think, Sora, think. What would Yuko do?<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe ship had stopped me calling in an emergency alert, but it was programmed to obey standard station requests such as transfers to another docking bay. Ships often handed over control of their piloting systems so busy stations could move them to another dock.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI frantically wrote a docking bay transfer message. A standard transfer message requested the ship&#8217;s access code so the station could control the ship&#8217;s piloting system, but the station itself would never see the unencrypted access code. I modified the request so it captured the plaintext form of the ship&#8217;s access code. It was like sending a phishing message to someone&#8217;s messagevault.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThree minutes until the ship left the station.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMy mouth was dry with fear. What I wouldn&#8217;t give for a cup of Yuko&#8217;s tea. I just had to hope I hadn&#8217;t made any mistakes. I sent the request.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nA true AI would be able to tell there was no need to move the ship to a different dock, but perhaps a Limited Intelligence wouldn&#8217;t undertake such detective work.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe ship acknowledged the station&#8217;s request and entered its access code.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI punched the code into the ship&#8217;s computer. I was in control!<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe ship&#8217;s protected transaction logs revealed it had decrypted the Werleth encryption and retrieved the inspection station access codes. It had faked the results of the scans. I commanded the Ithpek vessel to delay its departure. I had potentially saved thousands of lives, but I wasn&#8217;t ready to call in the hazard team yet.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI controlled the ship and the ship controlled the station.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI navigated my way through the station computer&#8217;s archaic menu system until I found  Kurohoshi&#8217;s classified reports. I created a search agent and instructed it find any information related to Toru&#8217;s death. I was going to learn the truth.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe agent returned with its results a few minutes later. I took a deep breath, then opened a classified report.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe report&#8217;s authors argued that using the cheapest available shuttle fuel would lead to a higher rate of incidents. However the cost would be outweighed by overall savings and by judicious employment of accident insurance. The report had been approved by Hashimoto, the station administrator.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI wanted to scream. Sweet, gentle, Toru was gone because Hashimoto wanted to save money.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThere were so many ways I could take revenge. I could order the station to crash. I could redirect a spaceship to fly through the managers&#8217; section of the station. I could unlock the station&#8217;s armory and exact bloody retribution.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBut I didn&#8217;t really want to hurt anyone. And Toru wouldn&#8217;t have wanted me to throw my own life away on such futile gestures.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nLeaking the report probably wouldn&#8217;t do much good. At best, Hashimoto would be tied up in lengthy court proceedings that the company would spend its way out of. Nothing would bring Toru back, but I had a better idea for getting even.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI left the Ithpek ship and returned to my sleeping capsule. It was standard procedure for the station computer to do one final scan before a ship left docks. This time the scan generated a threat alert.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe station was locked down. Nakagawa and the hazard team disabled and removed the nanobots. No one said anything to me about my earlier alert. That would have meant acknowledging a security failure.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nEventually the forensic data specialists would be able to use the Ithpek vessel&#8217;s logs to reconstruct what had happened, but I planned to be long gone by then. I waited until the emergency was over, then used the station&#8217;s codes to grant Yuko and me access to the section of the station reserved for senior management.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI paused in front of the hangar door. &#8220;Are you sure you want to do this?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nYuko smiled. &#8220;Of course.&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI opened the door, revealing Hashimoto&#8217;s Nisshouku. Someone so mean didn&#8217;t deserve such a beautiful spaceship.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI reprogrammed the Nisshouku&#8217;s access codes, then Yuko and I boarded our new home. I shed my gray dock worker uniform and slipped on the black uniform of a starship captain.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe engines hummed to life and the ship slid into the blackness of space.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI projected a photo of Toru onto one of the ship&#8217;s viewscreens.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nLife was getting better. Yuko was brewing a fresh pot of tea. We had our own spaceship. The stars were getting closer.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak \/><br \/>\n<a name=\"feud\"><\/a><H1 LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"font-weight: normal; page-break-before: always\"><br \/>\n<FONT FACE=\"Times New Roman, serif\"><FONT SIZE=6>Blood Feud<\/FONT><\/FONT><\/H1><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBy Jim Lee<\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nIn the beginning, I knew her only as Kalomi of the Plains. The name, the simple and only vaguely descriptive sobriquet seemed enough to know. She was my Apprentice in the Sisterhood, bound to my side by chance assignment and solemn oath.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSoon, by shared experience, she became my true and trusted comrade. Inevitably, increasingly I came to know her as my friend. But still\u2014and despite her many evident complexities of heart and spirit\u2014she remained to my mind simply Kalomi of the Plains.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nIt is truly said that I am drawn to explore the exotic, the unknown. And yet, behold the paradox\u2014I often fail to wonder at the unguessed ingredients in the stew, bubbling in the homey and outwardly familiar pot before my very eyes.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSo it was with my Apprentice Sister\u2014with my comrade and friend, Kalomi of the Plains.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nIt was in the early autumn of our second year together that I first encountered one of my Apprentice Sister&#8217;s family. He rode to our quarters in the Great Reserve on a typically sturdy spotted pony. He and his mount were dwarfed by the escort from the outer guard post\u2014a muscular Eastlandic cavalryman on  a large brown war-horse of the type these Plainsfolk raise and train so well, yet seldom choose for themselves.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nDwarfed physically, I noted, but in no way outwardly impressed or intimidated.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cTypical Plainsman,\u201d I whispered to myself with mixed dismay and admiration as I put aside the bear grease, the oiling cloth and the double-edged blade I had been preparing for winter storage.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI rose from the mat.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMy initial judgment changed as I saw his greying ponytail and beard, interwoven as it was with beads and feathers and intricately carved bits of wood and bone. The arrangement of these ornaments\u2014and the fact they were worn on what was not, in itself, a day of special significance\u2014suggested major news.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYou are the Sister Vendra\u2014Vendra of Lum?\u201d the man asked, polite in tone even as his eyes searched and judged my entire person.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI raised my chin then nodded. \u201cI am she.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cGood Sister, I would speak with your Apprentice.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI blinked. \u201cMight I ask who\u2014\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cPross of the Bright Sun Band of the Northern Owl Tribe,\u201d he interrupted sharply, slapping his chest in introduction. \u201cKalomi&#8217;s Uncle,\u201d he added, abruptly turning apologetic. \u201cForgive my impatience, Honored Sister. I bear news she would favor hearing\u2014if the Good Sister grants me leave for the telling?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSomething in his small round eyes assured me I ought to agree\u2014unless I wanted Pross&#8217;s next change of mood to feature strings of blistering invective, undoubtedly in some obscure Plains dialect but directed squarely and most bitterly at me.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI&#8217;ll get her,\u201d I replied, my voice mild.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI went inside, past the outer rooms and to the point where the wooden structure extended into the hillside to become half earth-lodge. Kalomi was in one of these deep, dark storage rooms\u2014a butter-lamp flickering nearby as she surveyed the sun-dried fruit, berries and roots available for the looming winter season.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cUncle Pross?\u201d she said, visibly excited once I&#8217;d spoken. \u201cHere? With news?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cAnd done-up like the Day of the Convert,\u201d I added. Then I smiled. Told her to go.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nKalomi rushed past me. I extinguished the lamp. Locked the storage room. Proceeded back, through our quarters and into the warm afternoon.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHer head turned suddenly at my return. Her ponytail lashed the side of her Uncle&#8217;s face. He laughed and his pony nudged him, whinnied as if laughing with the Plainsman. I saw that Pross didn&#8217;t even bother to hold the animal&#8217;s reins, so confident was he in the pony&#8217;s training.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nLoyal and dependable as a Royal Black, I thought.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThen I marveled at the open joy on my Apprentice Sister&#8217;s usually serious face.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cTenny is to be married!\u201d she announced.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cReally?\u201d It took me an instant to search my memories of Kalomi&#8217;s infrequent mentions of home. \u201cYour eldest cousin\u2014your daughter, Pross of the Bright Suns?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe man nodded, pale blue eyes alive with pride. \u201cOur band was passing just close enough for me to make the ride here\u2014to inform and invite you both!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWe both?\u201d I murmured.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWhy, yes! Of course!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI tilted my head toward my Apprentice.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cUncle would have us officiate at the wedding.\u201d Kalomi gestured to the north and east. \u201cAt our band&#8217;s ancestral home-site, just before they settle into Winter Encampment.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI greeted this news with an expression of thoughtful, if uncommitted interest.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe Thirty Tribes still practice many pre-Conversion rituals\u2014including a two-week Wedding Truce, during which all quarrels are put aside and all of that year&#8217;s wedding ceremonies are performed.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cIt&#8217;s only a four-day ride,\u201d Kalomi hinted, much like a child pleading to attend a distant fair. \u201cThree, if we press hard.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI&#8217;m sure the Sister-Leader will grant you leave,\u201d I told her.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cBut not you also, Good Sister?\u201d Pross screwed his face up. Gestured with emotion. \u201cIt would not be proper, surely\u2014to have the Apprentice among us, without the Sister and friend we have heard so much of!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI was stunned\u2014till that moment utterly unaware that Kalomi kept any contact whatsoever with her nomadic family group of herders and hunters.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cOr\u2014\u201d Pross&#8217;s expression and tone now turned crafty, almost menacing. \u201cIs it that the matter of two bands of the Northern Owl being joined together in the Sacred Rite is too unimportant to merit the attentions of a Full Member of the Sisterhood?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThis shocked me speechless. The old bastard was perfectly willing to blackmail a Full Sister of the Dragon Sect\u2014to obliquely threaten a major political and social incident no less, if it served his personal desires!<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI looked at Kalomi. She gazed back at me with a faint smile.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI shall speak of this to the Sister-Leader of the Reserve,\u201d I muttered in defeat. \u201cAbout immediate leave\u2014for us both.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cOh, no need for that.\u201d Just as abruptly, Pross was all sweetness and reason. \u201cWe of the Bright Sun and our neighbors, the Great Eastern Band, will not be in our Winter Lands for another five weeks. This gives you time to prepare\u2014and us, as well. It will be a rare honor indeed, to have a full consecrated Sister\u2014a native of the Eastlands itself\u2014take part in our humble affairs!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe smiled and nodded, almost bowed.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI smiled back. Nodded in return. Then I gave Kalomi a look fit to wither buffalo grass.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMy Apprentice Sister shrugged.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe cavalryman, still waiting in the background atop his equally listless charger, looked bored and oblivious.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBut Pross saw the silent exchange between his niece and myself. He laughed and his spotted pony joined him with a head-bobbing whinny.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI never said I did not wish to attend.\u201d I turned, stretched in the saddle. It was our fourth and, I hoped, final day out from the Reserve. \u201cBut you know he&#8217;ll use my presence as a bragging point\u2014claim that it shows his Band is favored by the Sisterhood. Even so, I&#8217;d have been happy to agree if he&#8217;d simply invited, rather than attempted to trap me into it.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cSuch methods are in our tradition,\u201d Kalomi replied. \u201cAs is the accumulation and use of bragging points.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWell,\u201d I softened, \u201cit will be good to preside at a joining. What with our other duties, it&#8217;s been some time since I&#8217;ve had such a happy duty.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nKalomi&#8217;s face was blank. \u201cOur Scared Ritual differs from what you&#8217;re used to.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cAll the better.\u201d I smiled. \u201cThe Way of the Goddess and Her Sacred Dragon knows many interesting variations. But your Uncle\u2014to push things like that, with scarcely half-veiled threats\u2014\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cTo push you?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI turned my head. Stared at the side of my Apprentice Sister&#8217;s carefully impassive face. \u201cVery well. I have a good dose of Sisterly Pride.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cOnly Sisterly?\u201d Kalomi chuckled\u2014not an entirely pleasant sound.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI held my tongue, scanning the flat expanse of grassland before us. Except for the snorting herd of wild gaur before midday, this had been the least eventful of four uneventful days in the saddle. We now entered a region of the Upper Plains I&#8217;d never seen. Yet all about me seemed painfully familiar.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nDull, in other words.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cVery well,\u201d I said at last. \u201cI have pride in myself.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cIn your position.\u201d Kalomi&#8217;s probing voice was more arid than the dun-colored grass.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI pursed my lips. \u201cTrue, I suppose. But it wouldn&#8217;t have bothered me as much, if Pross had been some sort of Outlander.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cHe is.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI shook my head. \u201cNonsense. He&#8217;s your Uncle. And a Convert\u2014same as all the Thirty Tribes.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYes. But we Plainsfolk don&#8217;t hold our leaders in such dumbstruck awe as your Eastlandic commoners are apt to.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cAwe?\u201d My lips curled in distaste. \u201cI don&#8217;t want people to be in awe of me!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe snorted a non-literal Tribal obscenity. Something about the use of only half-dried gaur droppings as a fuel source. Then she leaned over. Spat expressively in the dirt between our mounts. \u201cYou know how my people are. Yet you expected Pross to be different\u2014more like folk where you&#8217;re from. Why?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nSuch questioning by my Apprentice Sister was impertinent. But this was Kalomi\u2014and she had a point. \u201cHe&#8217;s your Uncle,\u201d I confessed to myself as much as to her. \u201cI thought, having a blood relative so honored as to be accepted into the Holy Sisterhood\u2014it would make him, I don&#8217;t know, take the Teachings of the faith more seriously?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cMy Uncle,\u201d Kalomi said sharply, \u201ctakes the Goddess Way as seriously as any I know. But which of the teachings say ordinary folk ought to treat Sisters as if they were living embodiments of She-Who-Brings-Forth-All-Life? Perhaps I have not seen that particular Sacred Scroll? Or possibly I was absent from the Academy classes when such a passage was presented? If so, Honored Sister, please cite it for your shockingly ignorant Apprentice Sister&#8217;s edification?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHer mocking tone stung me with barbed truth. I slumped in the saddle, my head down in shame. Under me, Nightmare whickered uneasily. Plodding at her side, Kalomi&#8217;s mount answered in kind.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThey don&#8217;t like us to quarrel,\u201d my insubordinate friend said, fondness creeping into her voice.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cDon\u2019t your traditions forbid it?\u201d I murmured.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cNot yet. The Wedding Truce is yet to go into effect.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cConvenient.\u201d I snorted, raised my hand. \u201cSo you thought to get in a few final blows, while able?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cExactly.\u201d Her eyes twinkled and we shared light, forgiving laughter.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI&#8217;m actually in your debt,\u201d I admitted. \u201cWho else would have the gall to show me my own prideful ignorance like that?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cAny true friend\u2014if she was also of the Thirty Tribes.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cDoes that mean I ought to seek out friendship with more Plainsfolk, or that I should avoid them like the plague?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYour choice, Honored Sister.\u201d Her face was profoundly solemn for an instant. Then we both laughed again.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nUnder us, the Royal Blacks strode along contentedly.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nNo more than an hour later, we sighted a fair-sized dust cloud moving to our northwest. \u201cMore wild gaur?\u201d I speculated. \u201cOr plains bison, perhaps?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThis far north?\u201d Kalomi squinted. \u201cThis time of year, the wild herds should be verging due south\u2014avoiding the bite of winter as long as possible.\u201d She drew her ceremonial dagger, used it as an extension of her hand. The glinting blade served as a pointer\u2014focusing her mind, projecting the apparent path of the cloud into the future.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYour folk then? Still out on the trail?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nKalomi put the dagger away. Nodded. Turned her horse without another word.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI matched her.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nNightmare kept pace with Obsidian Maiden\u2019s flank in a gentle and sustained canter.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nOutriders broke off to meet us shortly after the dust cloud resolved itself into a mixed herd of half-wild cattle and larger, somewhat shaggy lowland yak. We speeded toward the approaching men and women for a bit, then slowed to a respectful walking pace\u2014thereby proclaiming both our eagerness and our peaceful intent. Waves, shouts of welcome and finally spoken greetings were exchanged.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nOne of the outriders was Tenny, though all recognized my Apprentice Sister and spoke excitedly with her in the Northern Owl dialect. I made out perhaps three words to every five, but felt no irritation. Reunions are emotional by nature, especially after many years. And it was good to see Kalomi laugh and banter easily with someone other than myself.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nOur warhorses towered over Tenny and her pony, but she stayed at our side as we pushed slowly against the tide of the plodding herd. Behind the yak and cattle came a smaller herd of ponies and full-sized horses. Further back, pairs of donkeys drew the light wagons. Those not in the wagons walked alongside. To the rear, I saw children and dogs and a pair of improbably tame griffins\u2014and the goats all these were driving. Still farther back, a trio of widely spaced and well-armed outriders provided an alert rear-guard.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI turned my eyes inconspicuously to Tenny and noted the flint knife, the leather shield and mid-length lance. All were tucked away, yet positioned as for swift retrieval and nearly instant use thereafter.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMy Apprentice Sister was home\u2014back among people truly hers, as none of the other Tribes, or even the other Bands of her Tribe, would ever be. I saw this in a single startled instant as she sprang uncaring from Obsidian Maiden\u2019s back and threw fierce arms about her screeching, joyful Aunt. The Royal Black was left to snort and paw the dirt, as surprised and amused by Kalomi\u2019s impulsive display as I was.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThis was Kalomi of the Plains\u2014and yet not, for she was also and perhaps more properly\u2014Kalomi of the Bright Sun Band of the Northern Owls, one Tribe of the Thirty and utterly unique. This Kalomi laughed at a playful barefoot kick in the back from her still-mounted cousin. She pulled her Uncle from his wagon almost before he could bring it to a halt. Kissed the grinning man\u2019s tangle of beard without shame or embarrassment.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYou met no trouble in reaching us?\u201d Tenny asked me, her manner casual as we watched two young boys hurry to greet Kalomi and marvel wide-eyed at the Royal Blacks. \u201cMy brothers,\u201d the bride-to-be observed.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cNo difficulties,\u201d I responded.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cForgive the foolish question, Sister. Who would dare attack you? It\u2019s just that, well . . . there was a raid the other evening. We beat them off without losing any mounts, but three cattle were either lost or stolen in the confusion.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cSuch acts are illegal,\u201d I said primly. \u201cDid you contact\u2014?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nA thin smile crossed Tenny\u2019s face. \u201cNo Magistrates on the trail\u2014nor Sisters, usually. In any case, we normally punish such offenders ourselves. But father said to let it go.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cLet it go!\u201d Kalomi gasped. She turned to us then back to Pross.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWe had our Winter Grounds to reach,\u201d Kalomi\u2019s Uncle said, defending his decision. \u201cA wedding to prepare for, as well\u2014no time for a Blood Feud.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWhose raiders struck you?\u201d she demanded.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cIt was dark. None could be certain of their ident\u2014\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cMuddy Creeks?\u201d Kalomi spat the words.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nPross shrugged. \u201cThey were Grey Eagles. We could not be certain of the Band.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cUncle! You let Muddy Creeks raid us and escape unpunished!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWe wounded one,\u201d Tenny spoke up. \u201cPossibly two.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cAnd didn\u2019t follow the blood trail?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cIt was my decision as Band Leader,\u201d Pross said gruffly.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cA poor one,\u201d my Apprentice muttered. \u201cHave you grown so old in my absence, Uncle?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cKalomi!\u201d I said with shock. All eyes turned toward me and I could only shake my head. A sister should not intrude in the affairs of Plainsfolk\u2014they were to be allowed their independence, as much as possible. It was the standing order and wise.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBut she was of these people. Their internal affairs were hers\u2014or they had been, until her Oath of Sisterhood. I found myself on uncertain ground. But then again, so was she.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThe matter is past,\u201d her Aunt said so quietly one had to strain to hear the whisper. \u201cLet us concern ourselves with the present. And the happy future\u2014the Wedding Truce and Tenny\u2019s joining!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nKalomi pursed her lips. Then she nodded, stroked and kissed her Aunt on the cheek.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMy Apprentice joined Tenny and the other outriders in driving the yak and cattle into a pasture watered by the stream that curled among the earth-lodges where her people would pass the brutal winter months. It was a task better suited to nimble and experienced ponies like the one her cousin rode, but Obsidian Maiden did well enough at Kalomi\u2019s direction.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThat big black horse,\u201d Tenny told me later with delight. \u201cOne snort, one swing of that proud neck was enough to impress any wayward bovine!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI nodded, turned my head. The light wagons had already been disassembled, with certain pieces put back together to form a Plains-style corral for the mounts. Tenny\u2019s brothers\u2014one seven, the other almost nine\u2014fed sugar-root to the Royal Blacks.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI sighed. \u201cWatching your people make camp is a breathtaking sight.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nTenny chuckled. \u201cIt\u2019s not half as disorganized as it must seem.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cNo,\u201d I agreed. \u201cIt\u2019s frantic and boisterous, but totally organized confusion\u2014if that makes sense?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe donkeys had been unhitched and taken, tethered together by one long strong rope, to water. The woven  brush corrals for the goats and donkeys were ready by the time they finished drinking. Also by that time, the folding wooden frames of the yurts\u2014again, detachable sections of the wagons\u2014had gone up. Their yak-hide covers slid neatly into place, almost of their own accord. Butter-lamps were hung and more than one cook-fire crackled even as the Bright Suns\u2019 namesake began to dip beneath the horizon.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nEach family was eating supper by the time the first of that night\u2019s two moons rose into the sky. I watched the second moon rise and eased back, turned my head. Beyond the flicker of the butter-lamps and the eight family cook-fires, all was darkness. I could hear the distant herd of cattle and yak, settling in with periodic moos and grunts. In the distance, at three carefully chosen locations, watch-fires burned with shifts of well-armed Bright Sun warriors tending them.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI looked across the cook-fire at Kalomi, silent as she ate. Livestock raids were still common among the Thirty Tribes. All complained about rivals stealing from them. Yet all did it from time to time. It was ritual of a sort\u2014an informal passage to adulthood for young Plainsfolk.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBut Pross had spoken of a Blood Feud, which was far more serious. And Kalomi held particularly bitter feelings for that one Band\u2014the Muddy Creeks of Grey Eagle Tribe.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI pursed my lips, fed a handful of dried serviceberries into my mouth to finish the meal. The tangy purple berries were tasteless to me just then\u2014even as the spiced trail porridge and sun-cured venison that came before. Only the rancid flavor of the butter-tea penetrated my mood. To be polite, I raised the skin when it passed to me and dutifully squirted a bit of the partially fermented yak-milk horror down my throat. I kept it down\u2014with some effort\u2014and passed the skin on.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nKalomi saw me watching as she took her turn and defiantly enjoyed a second squirt. My Apprentice had never named for me the Tribe or Band of the three men responsible for abducting, raping and impregnating her mother. But I\u2019d seen her eyes this day, heard the anger in her voice.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe Muddy Creeks\u2014I ran the name around in my head and sighed.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI looked up at the moons. The following evening, I knew, all three would rise together for the last time before Winter Solstice. That signaled the beginning of the Wedding Truce. It could not come soon enough for me.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe earth-lodges had to be repaired and cleaned out after sitting unattended throughout the Spring, Summer and early Autumn wanderings of the Bright Suns. Only now\u2014in reluctant acknowledgement of the approaching season\u2014did the Tribes return, each band to their ancestral homeland. The stable\u2014the only permanent structure most Plainsfolk ever built\u2014required even more concentrated repair than the underground lodges. Even so, it was only meant for the goats and donkeys and mares with recently born foals\u2014and only used during especially murderous storms. Otherwise, Plainsfolk believed their animals preferred to face the elements head-on\u2014like themselves.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAnd this year, the Bright Suns had a wedding to host.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYour future husband will come here?\u201d I asked Tenny.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cHe and most of the Great Easterns. Of course a few will stay behind to tend their herds.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI nodded. \u201cAnd after?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWe\u2019ll assemble our wedding yurt together.\u201d Grinning, Tenny pointed. \u201cFar side of the stream\u2014for privacy. By the time of Deep Winter, my folk will have dug a new earth lodge for us. D\u2019Venk will have furnished it with blankets, butter-lamps and other essentials.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cSo he\u2019ll live here? Be adopted into your Band?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cOf course.\u201d Tenny paused. Her high cheekbones flushed with pride. \u201cThe Bright Suns are the more prosperous now, though the Great Easterns are, you understand, quite respectable in their own right.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cInteresting,\u201d I noted. \u201cIt\u2019s all a matter of which Band is wealthier\u2014and therefore better able to afford a new member?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nTenny put down the donkey yoke, the buckets of water she had been carrying. Hands on hips, she regarded me with mild displeasure. \u201cGood Sister, D\u2019Venk will be a good addition to the Bright Suns\u2014hardly a burden to be afforded!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI apologized quickly, assured Tenny that that wasn\u2019t my meaning. \u201cI never knew precisely how it was decided. Forgive my ignorance. I\u2019ve been posted to the Great Reserve since being reassigned to the Plains and, as you know, things are different there.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nTenny looked me in the eyes, seemed to decide I was sincere and nodded. \u201cYes. Very different\u2014the Wolf-Folk do not wander freely, nor do they marry outside their group.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThey aren\u2019t allowed to, lest their fearful curse spread amongst the remaining Tribes. Tenny did not say that aloud. But the knowledge was in her eyes. Both of us were silenced briefly by this sobering reality.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cMy cousin,\u201d Tenny spoke again, \u201csays your curiosity about foreign ways is great. Her letters home remark upon it, frequently.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI can imagine.\u201d I forced a wry grin and helped steady the buckets\u2014preventing too much water from sloshing out\u2014as Kalomi\u2019s cousin slipped back into the yoke and straightened.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cShe considers it perhaps your most personally endearing characteristic.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cKalomi said that?\u201d I blinked and followed Tenny to her family\u2019s yurt.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cOh, yes. Yet you never asked about our ways?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI helped Tenny ease the water buckets down beside the smoldering cook-fire and uncouple the ropes binding the buckets to the yoke. Sisterly detachment be damned\u2014it was wrong to just stand around watching everyone else, regardless of rank or circumstance, do equal shares of the needed work.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThank you,\u201d she said with surprise as I lifted the yoke from her shoulders and massaged her neck. \u201cYou never did ask?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI tend to avoid subjects too closely linked to sex or marriage with Kalomi. The subject of her parentage is so painful to her! I\u2019m honestly uncertain what I can or cannot broach with her.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cOh.\u201d Kalomi\u2019s cousin\u2019s eyes went sad. \u201cI see. She\u2019s told you about\u2014that.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cA little.\u201d I drew a breath, raised my chin. \u201cIt was three of those Muddy Creeks?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nTenny nodded. We hunkered down together to patch a goatskin garment\u2019s torn hem. Her eyes flickered up at me\u2014the same pale blue as her cousin\u2019s and as full of controlled emotion, yet with an accepting peace that Kalomi lacked.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cTwo of them are known to be dead. Before her death, Yopa\u2014Kalomi\u2019s mother\u2014avenged herself on one. Split his skull open with a flint axe. Another died in a stampede that resulted from a raid against the Muddy Creeks by a Band friendly to our own. That was five summers ago, when Kalomi was still at your Academy in the East.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cAnd the third?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cUiseann.\u201d Tenny spat the name. \u201cHe leads them now\u2014has for almost two years, since illness took his cousin. Unless you believe the whispers\u2014that he poisoned his own kin!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe look on her face said that Tenny considered that as possible as it was unpleasant to consider.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThree Guardian Moons stood high in the night sky, the Wedding Truce in full effect. It was the one time in all the year that Kalomi\u2019s folk could relax their vigilance somewhat. Only one sentinel per watch-fire was now deployed\u2014and they only against animal predators who knew no Truce.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMy Apprentice and I walked together. She paused, stared into the darkness as if unable to believe in even relative safety. What was the time of greatest repose and delight for her people was one of fearful apprehension for Kalomi.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe Great Eastern Band reached Bright Sun Village well before midday. They paused just outside to put on their finest robes and decorate themselves with the intricate facial and hair ornaments of greeting.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nKalomi and I returned with the bounty of a successful morning hunt at one end of the village, even as the Great Easterns entered at the other. Appropriately, they received the more attentive welcome\u2014the Great Easterns brought a husband for Tenny. All we had to offer was a fresh-killed blackbuck. Kalomi and I watched with the rest as her cousin embraced D\u2019Venk.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nTenny had hurried to put on her finest\u2014and most minimal\u2014leather garments.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cSo that\u2019s him,\u201d Kalomi murmured.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cSo it would seem,\u201d I replied.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cHe just better make her happy.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nWith everyone else, we followed the two to the stream that was the lifeblood of the Bright Suns\u2019 Wintering Place.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nWe watched in silence\u2014and I tried not to show my embarrassment\u2014as the affianced couple slowly removed each other\u2019s fine clothing. Nude and dignified, they joined hands and walked into the flowing water as one\u2014signifying their final agreement to be wed later that evening. They knelt carefully at midstream, side by side and with their backs to us. Bright Sun and Great Eastern alike raised a cheer. I joined them. So did Kalomi, though a shade reluctantly.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe ceremony itself was a blend of rites. Ones I knew and treasured from back home, and the more ancient traditions of the Thirty Tribes. Bride and groom wore a matching set of loose robes, composed of geometric shapes of assorted hides\u2014domestic and wild, familiar and exotic creatures alike\u2014all sewn together with plant fibers and dyed a wonderful confusion of colors. They went barefoot, with toenails painted blue. Their ponytails and D\u2019Venk\u2019s beard sparkled with interwoven ornaments that reflected the light of the bonfire behind and the three moons above them.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI was glad to be part of it all and, when the new-made couple knelt before me, proud to touch my hands to their foreheads and intone the Final Blessing. \u201cMay the Goddess-of-All keep you in joy and make your union strong, courageous and noble\u2014like Her most honored and blessed creature, the Holy Dragon of the Seas!\u201d I paused the expected seconds, my arms outstretched. Then I concluded quietly, \u201cArise as one.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThey regained their feet in unison. Each kissed my cheeks reverently\u2014beginning with Tenny, as this was her home village. Kalomi in turn received similar attentions, politely if rather too solemnly, I thought.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nAn elaborate and predictably raucous feast followed\u2014with much butter-tea, alas.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI was sore and stiff the next morning as Kalomi and I prepared to depart. My travel tent would have been more comfortable and certainly more private than Pross\u2019s family yurt. But he was the Bright Sun leader, to the extent they had one. To refuse his courtesies would\u2019ve been rude\u2014and politically unwise.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI smiled at how the youngsters\u2014including Kalomi\u2019s pair of male cousins\u2014watched our every move. Or to be more exact, how they watched Nightmare and Obsidian Maiden, as the Royal Blacks stood with regal calm while being put to bridle and saddle.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nMy head turned and I glanced across the rushing stream, to the single yurt on the far side. I smiled, silently speculated that I was not the only one to get little rest in the night. But, in contrast to my situation, D\u2019Venk and Tenny had likely enjoyed their lack of slumber. Such were my thoughts when Kalomi\u2019s Aunt called her back to the family yurt.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nObsidian Maiden stood patiently, untied outside the corral and yet no more likely to wander off than I. The Royal Black even permitted the children to crowd around and stroke her flanks. No, the Plainsfolk are certainly not in awe of the Sisterhood. But our jet-black warhorses\u2014as fearless and intelligent as they are beautiful\u2014are another story.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBright Sun and Great Eastern alike had turned out to see us away. Affectionate shouts of goodbye rose as Kalomi swung into the saddle, a bulging drink-skin over her shoulder. My heart sank, just a little. \u201cMore of your Aunt\u2019s butter-tea?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nKalomi gave me an evil smirk. She was about to make some comment when a rider on a lathered pony exploded into view. Jonus, leader of the Great Easterns, and Lavelle, D\u2019Venk\u2019s father, held the exhausted animal by the reins. The man\u2014barely out of boyhood, really\u2014slumped in the saddle, bleeding.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cByelo!\u201d Jonus snapped. \u201cWhat has happened?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cRaided.\u201d The young Great Eastern spat crimson. \u201cTahk is dead. My sister too, I think\u2014took an arrow and her pony ran with her!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cInfamous!\u201d Jonus glared about him, fists clenched. \u201cTo break the Wedding Truce! And our herders\u2014attacked while riding with minimum arms at this Sacred Time! Byelo, who did this? What creatures would commit such infamy?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cGrey Eagles,\u201d the wounded man gasped. \u201cI saw the patterns on their shields. But which Band, I\u2019m not sure\u2014\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cMuddy Creeks,\u201d Kalomi sneered.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWe don\u2019t know that,\u201d Pross said.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cNo?\u201d She turned to me. \u201cVendra of Lum, have you nothing to say?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI had plenty. Technically, terms of our leave called for us to return to the Reserve immediately after the wedding\u2014but I had options. \u201cA grave crime has been committed! Of course we shall ride with these folk, see justice is done. But you and I, Apprentice, ride wearing the purple tunics\u2014as Sisters of the Dragon!\u201d Yanking my Talisman from under my tunic, I thrust it into her face as a stern reminder. \u201cJustice is our concern, not Blood Feuds\u2014is this clear?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHer face hardened even more than usual. But she nodded.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI turned, looked at the angry faces all around. \u201cBe clear\u2014all of you! I speak plainly, so all may understand. This is a terrible and evil thing. It shall be punished! But as Dragon Sisters, my Apprentice and I shall not stand for excess. The guilty and no other shall be punished!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nJonus nodded grimly. Turned to Pross. \u201cKnow me now as Beautiful Clouds Arising,\u201d he said with deadly earnest.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cAnd I,\u201d Pross responded, \u201cam Bear Tooth. We go to battle the foe together, as brothers, knowing each other\u2019s Old Names.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThis tradition I knew about: Just as Tribes and Bands were known by names of animals or locations or natural phenomenon, once Plainsfolk had taken their names from the same sources. With the Conversion, Eastlandic and other foreign names\u2014like Pross, Jonus or Kalomi\u2014were given out. But each Band continued to give old-style names, to be used only in war or other extreme times.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI present my niece,\u201d Pross gestured.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cSour Water,\u201d Kalomi growled.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cNo,\u201d I spoke sternly. \u201cThis cannot be allowed. She is a Sister-in-Training. She wears the tunic and the Sacred Talisman. I respect your traditions, gentlemen. But they are no longer hers. Kalomi of the Plains\u2014this is her only name.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nShe glared at me and I glared back. She drew  her sword halfway from its scabbard. Checked its edge with her thumb. Slammed it back into place.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cVery well,\u201d her Uncle, now Bear Tooth, said without rancor. He turned his head. \u201cBring only your best, metal-tipped weapons\u2014this is no mere hunt for game! We seek criminals and enemies of the good, and must be ready to struggle bravely\u2014even unto death!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe Great Eastern leader gave his folk similar orders then turned to me. \u201cHonored Sister?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYes, Beautiful Clouds Arising?\u201d I replied, being careful not to smile.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nHe winced. \u201cCall me Clouds. The others will know to do so.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cClouds,\u201d I repeated. \u201cYou, Bear Tooth and I have no time to discuss strategy. I suggest we send out trackers immediately and mount an orderly pursuit with our main body, working out the finer points on the move.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cMy thought as well, Honored Sister.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI\u2019m glad they left Tenny and her husband behind,\u201d I remarked to Kalomi after my in-the-saddle conference with the Band Leaders. She shot me a hostile look, but I refused to leave her side. \u201cIsn\u2019t that for the best, Apprentice?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cNewly married persons are not permitted battle,\u201d she informed me. I saw the battle ornaments she\u2019d added to her hair, but said nothing. Except for the sharp bits of metal and multi-colored shell money, these were the same decorations as the ones signaling happier events\u2014only arranged in a different pattern.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI shook my head, adjusted the leather helm on my cropped hair. \u201cYou must understand\u2014\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cI understand.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nWe rode on, silent.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cThey took all the untrained horses and spare ponies?\u201d Bear Tooth repeated the scout\u2019s report then spat. \u201cGreedy curs.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cFoolish ones,\u201d Clouds corrected with a sneer. \u201cThey left witnesses and now they burden themselves with too many frightened animals. Even if I were evil and reckless enough to attempt such horror, I would not be fool enough to do it this way!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nBear Tooth agreed then pointed. \u201cAnother scout! One of yours, this time.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe Great Eastern rode back to the advancing horde, shouting and thrusting his arm to indicate the direction. \u201cTheir trail, headed straight for Muddy Creek Village\u2014not even trying to hide their tracks!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cPushing that many animals?\u201d another of Cloud\u2019s men commented. \u201cThe low things couldn\u2019t obscure such a path with a solid week\u2019s effort!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cLet\u2019s get them!\u201d yet another said and many nodded. We quickened our pace.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nWe caught them just past dawn the next morning.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nClouds led most of the Great Easterns in a sweeping attack against the column\u2019s left flank. D\u2019Venk\u2019s parents, now known as Whirlwind and Yellow Wolf, led the remaining Great Easterns in a dash to get in front of the enemy and block his escape. Bear Tooth, with Kalomi and I at his side, led the Bright Suns in an all-out drive against the Muddy Creek rearguard. The running battle that resulted was fierce as any I have been party to.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI clashed with an older Muddy Creek who proved a surprisingly good swordsman. We tied each other up, swords and arms interlocked. It might have gone either way, but for my Royal Black. Nightmare butted his smaller mount at a key moment. The nimble pony recovered his balance, narrowly avoiding a fall. But his distracted rider toppled with a serious wound from my suddenly freed blade.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nA Bright Sun sprang from his saddle to finish the wounded man, but my shout and harsh glare had its effect. He merely took the Muddy Creek prisoner.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThe three-sided attack eventually drove the raiders into a small ravine, from which there would be no escape. They turned the stolen animals loose in a final, desperate ploy. But both Northern Owl Bands were more interested in battle by that point than in recovering stolen property.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nThere were only four raiders left by the time Clouds, Bear Tooth and I called a halt. All were wounded, but still capable of doing damage. Like us, they had dismounted to fight on the uneven lip of the ravine. The woman and two of the men were quite young\u2014led into this disaster by the older survivor.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cUiseann,\u201d Kalomi growled. \u201cOffer the others their freedom, if the leader submits to Justice!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nIt sounded like a Sisterly proposal, despite the wild look in her eyes. But I knew that Plainsfolk had a rather different idea of Justice than we Eastlanders. And right then the bloodied figure at my side was more Sour Water than she was Kalomi, more vengeful Plainswoman than Apprentice Sister. But Bear Tooth nodded and Clouds called down the proposal.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nUiseann agreed. The Muddy Creek leader came into the open, knowing no arrow or javelin would strike him down.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nClouds stood ready to descend and meet Uiseann\u2019s war axe with an iron-tipped spear. If he survived Clouds\u2019 attack, it would only earn Uiseann the chance to fight another warrior to the death\u2014possibly Bear Tooth. Then another and another\u2014by Plains\u2019 Justice, he was already doomed.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cNo!\u201d Kalomi called out. \u201cI claim the right! My claim to Justice is older than yours, Beautiful Clouds Arising!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nUiseann squinted. \u201cI don\u2019t even know you, Dragonwoman.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cNo. You knew my Mother, though\u2014Snow Woman of the Bright Suns, known commonly as Yopa.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nUiseann grinned viciously. \u201cAh, yes\u2014that one. The cur-bitch murdered my brother\u2019s son.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cKilled him in fair battle,\u201d Kalomi corrected. \u201cAfter he and you and other Mud trash carried her off, did evil upon her. And before you murdered her in turn, by cowardly ambush!\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nKalomi raised her sword, started forward.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI had my chance to stop it\u2014I had the authority. I\u2019m not at all sure Kalomi would\u2019ve obeyed, but I doubt the others would\u2019ve defied a Full Sister. At the least, I could have tried . . . yet I did nothing.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI watched them battle and, in my heart, I knew that if Kalomi failed and if Clouds Arising also fell before that bloody war axe, I would move ahead of the aging Bear Tooth and go next. I resolved that, should my Apprentice Sister die that day, I would see her avenged or die myself in the attempt. In that moment, my Oath and all my quaint notions of Sisterly Correctness meant little to me, indeed.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nFortunately, I\u2019d made an expert swordswoman of Kalomi\u2014passing along every trick and subtle skill I\u2019d learned from dear old Akan at the Academy.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nIt was a short, brutal fight. But it ended as it should: Uiseann\u2019s wide eyes staring sightless at the sky while Kalomi cleaned her blade on his dusty robes. Then the after-battle lethargy so common in the aftermath of victory\u2019s exhilaration overtook her.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI used her moment of seeming inattention to put my Talisman to use, covertly testing the fresh corpse. The resulting truth shook me deeply, though I hid my emotions and dared hope, if only briefly, that my exhausted Apprentice had not noticed.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nIn any case, I saw Uiseann\u2019s surviving followers freed\u2014including the wounded we captured earlier. When these events became known, the Grey Eagles of course expelled and disbanded the Muddy Creeks for criminal misbehavior. Their outcast remnant scattered as individuals to create new lives.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nKalomi and I rested two nights and another day at bright Sun Village then started back to the Great Reserve.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cWe could be back in our quarters now,\u201d Kalomi said as she stared into the campfire, three nights later. \u201cWe might have pressed the horses that much more, with no real risk.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI nodded. An unspoken, unacknowledged tension had been between us since the fight with the Muddy Creeks. Now it had grown to the point where I could no longer pretend ignorance of it. \u201cI wanted one more solitary night on the trail\u2014a last chance to talk, in total privacy.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cYou examined him,\u201d she said tightly, keenly. \u201cTested his body with the Talisman\u2019s power. So\u2014was Uiseann my father?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI had fully intended to speak the truth, when the time came. Had rehearsed the words in my mind, over and over again. And now I tried, but found I simply could not. \u201cNo. But he could as easily have been. In which case\u2014\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cIt would make no difference,\u201d she insisted.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cPerhaps not. Pass me the butter-tea, would you?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nKalomi grinned. \u201cAs what, Vendra? Penance for permitting a Blood Feud to run its ugly, natural course? I know you hate the stuff. Hell, everybody hates it! It\u2019s quite hideous, actually.\u201d She passed me the skin.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI raised it. Squeezed some into my reluctantly open mouth. \u201cI must agree,\u201d I said, passing the skin back. \u201cBut why do all you Plainsfolk act like you love it so?\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cTradition. Oh, and do consider yourself duly honored that\u2014as an outsider\u2014I let you know this.\u201d Kalomi took a squirt of the fermented milk and grimaced. \u201cWe have a great many traditions. Most more pleasant than butter-tea. A few as bad, or worse.\u201d<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\n\u201cLike Blood Feuds?\u201d I suggested.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nKalomi nodded. She reached a hand across, well above the low fire.<br \/>\n<\/P><P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 0.14in\"><br \/>\nI took it, held it firmly.<br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><mbp:pagebreak \/><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\"><br \/>\n<FONT SIZE=5><center>Published by Light Spring LLC <\/center><\/FONT><br \/>\n<\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\"><br \/>\n<FONT SIZE=5><center>Fort Worth, Texas<\/center><\/FONT><\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\"><br \/>\n<FONT SIZE=5><center>&copy; Copyright 2015, All Rights Reserved<\/center><\/FONT><\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\"><br \/>\n<BR><br \/>\n<\/P><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" ALIGN=CENTER STYLE=\"text-indent: 0.5in; margin-bottom: 0in\"><br \/>\n<FONT COLOR=\"#000080\"><SPAN LANG=\"zxx\"><U><center><A HREF=\"http:\/\/www.TheColoredLens.com\/\"><FONT SIZE=5>www.TheColoredLens.com<\/FONT><\/A><\/center><\/U><\/SPAN><\/FONT><\/P><br \/>\n<\/center><br \/>\n<P LANG=\"zxx\" CLASS=\"western\" STYLE=\"margin-bottom: 0in\"><BR><br \/>\n<\/P><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>The Colored Lens Speculative Fiction Magazine Spring 2015 &ndash; Issue #15 Featuring works by David Cleden, Robert Dawson, Sarena Ulibarri, Drew Rogers, Jamie Lackey, Ashley Rose Nicolato, Derrick Boden, Brian Ennis, Aaron Grayum, Barry Corbett, Mark Hill, Aidan Doyle, and Jim Lee. Edited by Dawn Lloyd and Daniel Scott Published by Light Spring LLC Fort &hellip;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":29,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-49793","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry","entry entry-center"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/49793","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/29"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=49793"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/49793\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=49793"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}