Better Times - Facet Iii: Finding Better Times

By Gary B. Boyd

Spavin Lawson kept his promise to the united human population of 32nd Century Texas City. He and his wife, Clarissa, had gathered the brightest minds they could find and put together the Technology Development Plan. The Plan was a template to build a civilization based upon ecologically sound principles. Unfortunately, the completion of The Plan required a population density that did not exist in the 32nd Century. Cataclysmic events a millennium earlier had reduced humans to uncivilized tribes totaling fewer than ten thousand people in what was once North America. Unknown to the citizens of the new city, long lost humans who were struggling to survive on Mars and Luna also assisted in the development of The Plan. A secret node on the Technology Development Plan was dedicated to the eventual reunification of all Humankind.
Spavin could not entrust the future of his progeny and the human race to chance. He knew that the two-hundred year plan would need a boost at the critical point of Reunification. With his family and Shadow Warrior Nevlyn Bydman, he used his time dilator so he could guide the completion of The Plan and ensure Humankind would find better times.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jul 17, 2014
• ISBN: 9781496926821

Gary B. Boyd

Gary B. Boyd is a story teller. Whether at his cabin in the Ozark Mountains, at his desk in his home or on his deck overlooking Beaver Lake near Rogers, Arkansas, he writes his stories. His travels during his business career brought him in touch with a variety of people. Inquisitive, Gary watches and listens to the people he meets. He sees in them the characters that will fill his stories … that will tell their stories. A prolific author with more than a dozen published titles and a head full of tales yet to share, Gary submits to his characters and allows them to tell their own stories in their own way. The joy of completing a novel doesn’t lessen with time. There are more stories to tell, more novels to write. Gary expects to bring new characters to life for years to come. www.garybboyd.com

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Arrival

S PAVIN READ the highway sign aloud, Lawson City – 50. His voice reflected the relief he felt as he watched another fly-bot drawn trailer moving southward, rapidly skimming ten feet above the cleared pathway. I guess we are pretty close to our mark. I’m not exactly sure where Lawson City is on the map, but I like the sound of it. He grinned at Clarissa.

Clarissa returned his smile. The dark-skinned Indian woman had married Spavin Lawson centuries earlier when they were both working toward their doctorate degrees in college. He was a nerdy physicist with all the standard ambitions and American dreams when she met him, hardly the leader and civilization builder that she saw standing by her side in a Texas cornfield. I wonder exactly what year it is and how far we moved geographically. The question was more rhetorical than real. She knew he did not know yet.

Spavin surveyed the three girls – young women – who stood nearby. The five of them wore the standard cotton blend trousers and short tunic tops worn by the Scout Guards in the 32nd Century. The cloth for all their clothing was a mottled mixture of earthy colors. Spavin chose to wear a floppy, wide brimmed cloth hat when they began the final leg of their journey rather than wear a robe and pull the hood over his head. The hat not only shaded his eyes but it kept the sun from bleaching the dark hair on top of his head. His long pony tail, decorated with iridescent gar scale hair clasps, hung down his backbone. Spavin’s neatly trimmed beard showed more gray flecks than his hair did. If our last shift was any indication, we are probably within a few months and fifty miles of when and where we left and hopefully only two-hundred years ahead.

Nevlyn Bydman had not said a word since their arrival. Only she deviated from the mode of dress. Her eyes were hidden behind protective dark goggles and buried deep within the hood of a long robe. Spavin stepped closer to the youngest member of the traveling party and put his hand in the middle of her back to reassure her.

Shadow Warrior Nevlyn, are you okay?

The lower part of Nevlyn’s face was covered by a cotton wrap that only slightly muffled her voice. She responded guardedly. I am okay, Glorious Leader Spavin. Nevlyn moved closer to Stephanie and placed her hand on the taller girl’s forearm.

Shadow Warrior Nevlyn Bydman wore the hooded short robe to protect her translucent skin and the darkened goggles to protect her light-sensitive lavender eyes. Her thin, almost colorless hair was pulled into a knot behind her head, unseen inside the hood. Just like her idol, Stephanie, the fourteen-year old girl carried two concealed knives. The knife hafts were small enough to fit her hands comfortably. Even though she was petite, barely over four-feet tall, her ability to leap and move enhanced her martial arts skills so that she could become a formidable fighting machine in an instant. Warrior Stephanie Lawson had taught her well.

Stephanie’s jet black hair was braided into long pig tails on either side of her head. Iridescent gar scales and colored glass beads adorned the floppy hat she wore as a sun shade. Her dark skin, further burnished by the south Texas sun, glowed with a healthy vigor. Her dark brown eyes smiled at her protégé. Her tunic top was cinched at the waist by a sash that concealed two short knives. As a student of taekwondo, the fifteen-year old girl had earned her first degree black belt by the age of twelve. She would never be awarded another belt by her saberomnim. She had shared her skills by training the Scout Guards of North Tribe to the best of her ability, and circumstance had firmly established that her abilities in hand-to-hand combat were superior to anyone in the 32nd Century.

Sasha Lawson stood a half step behind her mother. The young woman was her mother’s child physically and mentally. The seventeen-year old did not braid or tie her hair; she imitated her mother and let her black tresses fall luxuriously across her shoulders and breasts in stark contrast to the mottled tan tunic top. She wore a sheath to carry her short sword at her waist. She and her father had discussed whether she should carry the weapon to their destination. The sword was the bronze girl’s security blanket. Her proficiency with the sword in close combat had earned her the respectful title of Slayer Sasha.

I think our best bet is to walk south, Spavin said as he took a step toward the fly-bot pathway. The others followed him without a word. The fly-bots maintained a minimum altitude of about ten feet, so he had no fear of being hit by one of the vehicles. The only issue might be flying debris swirled up by their rapid passage. The vehicles zipped past at more than one-hundred miles per hour.

HEY YOU! Get out of my cornfield! A mechanically amplified voice startled the travelers.

Spavin looked to the north and saw a small fly-bot field tractor scooting toward where he and his family stood. He stopped and waited for the approaching vehicle. He smiled to himself. He had made contact easier and quicker than he had hoped.

The fly-bot tractor lit on the grassy roadside. The driver exited the tractor. He was five and a half feet tall. He wore a pair of brown trousers and a long sleeved shirt dyed pale blue. A pair of sunglasses hid his eyes but the set of his lightly tanned jaw indicated a state of agitation. What were you doing in my cornfield? he demanded. He donned a hat similar to Spavin’s while he walked toward the taller man. Only when he was close did he jerk his head upward to look into the eyes of the six-foot two-inch man.

We mean no harm. Spavin smiled, bowed his head slightly and extended his hand. We are traveling to Lawson City.

The fly-bot tractor driver was startled by the height of the bearded stranger. Very few men that he knew wore full beards and even fewer were more than six feet tall. I don’t think it is necessary for you to be in my cornfield to travel to Lawson City. He did not relent from his mission to keep scavengers away from his corn. The Government had decided to shorten the route between Spavinville and Lawson City by running the fly-bot pathway straight through the middle of his gardens. Ever since the pathway opened, he had been pestered by people who stopped along the route to pilfer ears of fresh corn.

You are correct. We should not have detoured. Spavin nodded again, hoping to soften the man’s anger. He kept his hand extended, I am called Spavin. These women are my wife and children. He saw no reason to call out Nevlyn as anything other than his daughter.

Many are called Spavin. A popular name for males as is Clarissa as a name for females. The man reluctantly shook the strong hand of the stranger. I am Gardener Steven Jhnsyn. I own this field and rotate crops between this and soybeans. The Government split my garden in half with their fly-bot path. It’s bad enough that they brought the mice from Pera and the birds from Chin to attack my fields, now I have to guard against pilferage by people when I grow corn. Why were you in my garden? He did not hear the gasp from Nevlyn when he said his name.

Gardener Steven, I am glad to meet you. We merely walked through the rows as a shortcut. We took no corn nor did we damage any of your stalks. We respect the work and produce of all Gardeners. Spavin suspected that the praise would help calm Steven. He wanted to ask about the Gardener’s ancestry. The connection was there; he was sure of that.

Gardener Steven shook his head and looked the direction Spavin had pointed. I don’t think that was much of a short cut. Stay out of my Gardens and leave my corn alone. Without another word, the shorter man climbed back into his fly-bot tractor and scooted across the cornfield as if to double check for damage or other intruders.

Spavin watched the fly-bot tractor fly away and shook his head. I guess the Financial Node was completed. They are not communal. That’s good…I think.

Nevlyn softly said, The Gardener’s name is much like my father’s name and his family name is the same as Bakr’s. Her voice broke slightly as she spoke. The reality of the journey she had chosen was beginning to crystallize in her mind. She had joined the Lawsons because she did not want to be left without her idol. She gave up every connection to her family to become part of the adventure in hopes of finding better times. She suddenly missed her father and her younger siblings. Bakr Jhnsyn was the first son born to Saly Bydman, wife of Stevk Bydman, fathered by a donor because Stevk was unable to produce male offspring. They had opted for the arrangement to avoid the continued forfeiture of female children under Resurgent City’s law against multiple female offspring.

He could be your nephew several times removed, Clarissa said as she embraced the small girl. That is what we must be prepared to accept. She felt the girl’s heart beating rapidly through the layers of clothing between them.

We need to move on. The sun tells me it is not very long until dark and we need to clear the cornfields before we camp. Spavin cautiously moved to indicate he was ready to travel. He wanted to make sure the females were ready.

Clarissa watched Stephanie lead Nevlyn in single file behind Spavin and then moved forward herself. She patted the small teenager’s back lovingly. She knew that their young charge would need emotional support once Nevlyn felt the full impact of their new reality.

Nevlyn saw a small flock of canaries flit among the cornstalks. She paused to watch them. What are those? The young girl had never seen a bird. Her hands were close to the hafts of her two short knives, ready to defend the family from the strange creatures.

The family group stopped and watched the birds chasing small insects through the air and on the ground. Clarissa responded to Nevlyn’s question. Those are birds; canaries it would seem. Apparently, wherever the place called Chin that Gardener Jhnsyn referenced has birds that survived the Cataclysm.

Why would the Government bring birds here?

Probably as a novelty. Maybe to combat the insects. The reptile population here is probably not enough to keep the bugs at bay. Clarissa smiled at the thought of bio-diversity. The world they had just left was limited to fish, insects and a few reptile species. The reptiles were not human friendly.

What are mice? Gardener Jhnsyn said something about mice also?

Mice are mammalian rodents; very prolific rodents that eat everything. I am unsure why those would have been brought here intentionally. Clarissa’s brow furrowed as she considered the small mammals with a shudder.

I would suppose that the mice arrived unintentionally from the place he called Pera. If they mingled with other tribes, maybe they found other mammals as well. The planet is rebounding. That’s a good sign, even if it is mice. Spavin closed the conversation and began walking again.

The cornfield seemed to go forever. The group walked for an hour before the scenery changed. Fly-bots of every description hurried above them as they walked. Some courteously lifted higher as they passed. The corn eventually gave way to a field of cotton. The bolls were still closed and swelling. The lush greenery stretched in all directions. To the west, a blur of trees separated the cotton plants from the horizon. To the east, the crop melded with the horizon and accented the rising first-quarter moon. He thought about the near-end node of the Technology Development Plan and wondered if he should try to contact Lunar Base.

Dad, Sasha said, There’s a fly-bot behind us about a quarter mile.

They’ve been buzzing by ever since we got here. Spavin wondered why his daughter had made the comment.

No, this one has been pacing us for a few minutes. It’s not over the path. It’s over the roadside grass.

All five heads turned to look toward the north. A dark colored fly-bot hovered a few feet above the grassy shoulder, apparently following the family.

Spavin did not want to indicate alarm, Maybe it’s experiencing problems. I’m sure we are not the only people to ever walk along the road.

As concerned as Gardener Steven was about his cornfield, I would have expected to see his fly-bot tractor checking on that fly-bot, replied Sasha.

These are cotton plants, Spavin noted. Not much to pilfer here. He tried to dismiss the fly-bot’s significance by continuing to walk. Besides, this may be someone else’s garden.

It’s moving faster now. Sasha said, unsure if what she was reporting was good or bad.

Spavin stopped and turned to watch the fly-bot. He fully expected to see it accelerate and ascend to flight elevation above the path. He wondered why the fly-bots did not fly higher in the air so that a path cut through the gardens would not have been required. His experience with fly-bots was that they could be safely navigated as high as ten-thousand feet above sea level. They did not need ground paths to function.

Spavin watched the fly-bot approach and settle on the ground less than twenty feet from where they stood. He instinctively patted the pistol in his trousers pocket. He moved to stand between the fly-bot and his family. He waited and watched the fly-bot hatch open.

A uniformed person exited the fly-bot and donned a flat topped cap with a stiff bill. Dark sunglasses reflected sunlight as the driver strode toward the family. Are you lost? a female voice asked forcefully.

Spavin recognized that the woman was a peace officer of some kind. We are simply walking to Lawson City, Officer.

The woman stopped in front of Spavin. Her skin was a warm tan color. Her auburn hair was cut short, barely reaching below her ears. She was slightly taller and stockier than Gardener Steven Jhnsyn. Her reflective sunglasses disguised whatever her eyes had to say about her confidence but her jaw line and tone indicated she was accustomed to being in control of a situation. What did you call me?

Spavin quickly scanned the markings on the woman’s uniform. It is an honorific that I sometimes use. I mean no disrespect, Scout Guard Lorenz. He took a chance on the meaning of the large SG on her shoulder patch that was encircled by embroidered symbols that probably had some significance. Her name was on a tag above her left pocket, just above her metal badge.

Scout Guard Lorenz studied the tall, dark-skinned man for a few seconds. It is a long way from here to Lawson City. I didn’t see a disabled fly-bot along the pathway. How did you come to be here?

Spavin knew that a lie would only create problems. We walked to this point and will continue walking to Lawson City.

Scout Guard Lorenz considered what she had been told. It will be dark before you arrive. The snakes are more active at night and slither around in their search for insect prey. Some of the snakes are venomous.

Spavin studied the woman’s belt. A short sword and a device that resembled the Tasers used by the Scouts of Resurgent City were attached within easy reach. We are prepared to deal with the snakes if we have to camp along the pathway.

Scout Guard Lorenz felt uncomfortable near the tall man. He was vaguely familiar to her. The older woman and one of the other women who was her younger version also seemed familiar. I do not think you should be camping near the Gardens. They are not for your use. The Gardeners work hard to produce their crops.

We’ll stay on the grassy side of the pathway. That is public property isn’t it? Spavin was quick to respond.

Not for camping. Scout Guard Lorenz snapped authoritatively. You need to seek shelter elsewhere.

Spavin looked around. His brow furrowed, barely discernible beneath the floppy hat. And do you see any other source of shelter available.

His sarcastic answer caused Scout Guard Lorenz to tense. Do you have identification? She held out her hand expectantly.

Spavin shook his head. I have no identification with me. My name is Spavin, if that will help. He did not want to use his family name until he fully understood more about the society he had built.

Scout Guard Lorenz brow wrinkled. Her hand dropped to be near her Taser. And this is Clarissa I suppose? She nodded toward Clarissa.

Spavin smiled. "Actually, her name is Clarissa. Is that a problem?"

Scout Guard Lorenz moved back a step and drew her Taser from the belt holster. I need all of you to place your hands on top of your head. Resist and I will immobilize you with my weapon.

Spavin felt a rush of rage. His eyes hardened as he glared at the Scout Guard. He struggled to gain control of his emotions. He glanced to see how the females were reacting. Sasha’s hand was on her sword’s hilt. He drew in a deep breath and slowly raised his arms and placed his hands on top of his floppy hat. He did not want a fight to take place their first day in the 34th Century. Very well, we will raise our hands.

Clarissa complied as soon as Spavin’s arms started to rise. Sasha hesitated momentarily. Stephanie crossed her arms angrily. Scout Guard Lorenz misinterpreted the motion and pulled the trigger on her Taser. An electric spark flashed from the weapon and struck Stephanie’s midsection. The girl’s arms immediately dropped and stiffened. Her eyes widened and her body tensed before she toppled to the ground.

Nevlyn reacted before Spavin realized exactly what had happened. She leapt into the air and kicked her left foot against the side of Scout Guard Lorenz’s face. The Scout Guard was knocked backward. The Taser fired again. The errant spark of energy struck Spavin. Clarissa screamed. After the foot blow, Nevlyn somersaulted while in the air and landed beside the sprawled Scout Guard. By the time her feet hit the ground, she had drawn her two knives.

Sasha sprang forward and put her body between Nevlyn and the Scout Guard. STOP! Sasha’s commanding voice stopped Nevlyn in her tracks.

She attacked Warrior Stephanie, explained the pale girl angrily.

Stephanie didn’t do as she was told. Sasha focused on Nevlyn. She knew that she could overpower the young girl. She did not know if she could outmaneuver the nimble former citizen of Resurgent City.

Clarissa knelt beside Stephanie to check on her daughter. The girl’s eyes were squeezed shut tightly. Stephanie, are you alright? Worry creased the attractive face of the forty-something woman.

Stephanie responded haltingly, panting and unable to take a deep breath, I’m okay. It hurts. She remained still as her nerves slowly returned to normal and gave her control of her body. I think I peed myself.

Nevlyn, step over there by Mother and Stephanie, Sasha commanded. The seventeen-year old girl was angry.

Nevlyn’s goggles and hood hid her facial expressions but her exaggerated stomp toward her fallen idol did not belie her unsatisfied anger.

Sasha knelt beside Scout Guard Lorenz and removed the woman’s twisted sunglasses. A small cut on the bridge of the Scout Guard’s nose was bleeding into her eyes. Mom, I need something to wipe away blood. Her sunglasses cut her nose.

You are all under arrest, Scout Guard Lorenz said weakly but angrily as she tried to rise into a sitting position. She pushed Sasha away and refused the girl’s attempts to assist her to her feet.

Spavin’s body reacted spasmodically for several moments. He had no muscle control. Every nerve in his body screamed in agony. Even so, he did not feel the impact of his body when he hit the ground. He heard voices but understood nothing he heard for several seconds. Finally, Clarissa’s voice broke through the haze.

Spavin. Spavin. Are you alright? Clarissa had straightened his contorted limbs so that he would be more comfortable when normal sensations began to return to his body.

I think so. What brought that on? Why did she zap me? Spavin’s eyes still were not focused clearly. He saw the Scout Guard standing over them with something in her hand. He knew what it was.

Scout Guard Lorenz vehemently answered his question. The girl called Nevlyn attacked me. I am arresting you all.

You attacked Warrior Stephanie first. I was defending her. Then you attacked Glorious Leader Spavin. Nevlyn responded loudly and petulantly.

Shut up and sit down, demanded the Scout Guard. The looks and behaviors of the strangers were unnerving even to the experienced Scout Guard.

Spavin’s eyesight finally cleared.

Sasha leaned forward. Scout Guard Lorenz, Nevlyn reacted instinctively to something she did not understand. She did not mean harm to you.

Yes I did, snapped Nevlyn. If you hadn’t…

Nevlyn! Clarissa commanded to silence the girl.

My trousers are wet, said Stephanie weakly.

Spavin sat up with Clarissa’s help. Scout Guard Lorenz, I’m sure we can sort this out. We are simply trying to get to Lawson City. We are not trying to cause trouble.

Too late. Assaulting a Scout Guard is a serious crime. All of you get on your knees. Put you hands behind your heads. If anyone moves, I will use this again. The fear in the woman’s voice was thick. The Scout Guards seldom had to use force. Scout Guard Lora Lorenz knew that she would be required to explain her actions. She also knew that the blasphemy of the arrestees would require explanation on their part.

Working methodically, Scout Guard Lorenz applied hand restraints to each of the five travelers. Satisfied that she finally had control of the situation, she used the fly-bot communicator to contact her dispatcher and request assistance to escort dangerous prisoners to Lawson City.

A surprisingly short time later, Spavin watched three Scout Guards arrive in fly-bots. The traffic above the pathway slowed to a crawl while the occupants of the traveling fly-bots gawked at the incident beside the pathway. The Lawson’s gear was stowed in the trunk of one of the Scout Guard fly-bots. Spavin watched nervously as his backpack was tossed in with the others without regard for contents. One of the three arriving Scout Guards was higher ranked and took charge of the arrests. Each prisoner was searched and their weapons were placed in the trunk with the backpacks.

I am Scout Guard Leader Clawst. Scout Guard Lorenz says you call yourself Spavin and the woman with you is called Clarissa. I also see that you were carrying a projectile weapon. I have never seen a weapon constructed of that material. Can you explain why you have the weapon?

Chameanders and snakes. Spavin could think of nothing else to say. The 22nd Century plastic pistol fired plastic projectiles, extremely deadly because they shattered upon impact and the miniature bits of shrapnel obliterated internal organs. He was sure that any answer was destined to be a bad answer.

Chameanders and snakes? Scout Guard Leader Clawst pursed his lips. The paleness of his skin was the result of minimal sun exposure as well as genetics. He normally worked behind a desk. An attack on one of his Scout Guards was cause for him to venture out into the field. I would think that is overkill. Possession of a deadly projectile weapon is prohibited for citizens. Only the Scout Guards or licensed hunters are allowed to carry them. You are not a Scout Guard. Do you have a hunter’s license?

Spavin could not see the Scout Guard’s eyes through the reflective lenses of the man’s sunglasses. He wondered if the ancestral connection that wandered through his mind was correct for the two Scout Guards. I do not, Scout Guard Clawst.

Scout Guard Leader, corrected the Scout Guard Leader. You will face additional charges of possession of a prohibited lethal weapon. Who attacked Scout Guard Lorenz?

Before any of the prisoners could respond, Scout Guard Lorenz pointed to the short, robed figure between Stephanie and Clarissa. The one they call Nevlyn.

Scout Guard Leader Clawst looked at the tiny figure in the hooded robe. The shadow of the hood did not conceal the fact that the small person was wearing dark goggles similar to goggles worn by the original founders of Texas. Nevlyn? She appears awfully small to be an attacker. Are you sure it wasn’t one of these others. He stared at the Lawsons.

Nevlyn pulled her back straight to enhance her height and replied vehemently, I am Shadow Warrior Nevlyn Bydman. I attacked the Scout Guard because she attacked Warrior Stephanie and Glorious Leader Spavin. She started it.

Spavin closed his eyes and shook his head. He wished he had coached Nevlyn more on what they could express about their identities. He spoke out quickly in hopes of taking attention from the pale girl. It was a misunderstanding. Nevlyn is highly trained in martial arts and reacted instinctively when she thought there was danger.

Martial arts, huh? I think something more than meets the eye is happening here. Scout Guard Leader Clawst stepped in front of Nevlyn and pulled the hood away from her head. He gasped lightly. Even though very little of the girl’s skin was exposed, what he saw was so pale it was almost translucent. The knot of hair at the back of the girl’s head was nearly colorless. He wanted to remove the goggles so he could see her eyes but common sense prevailed. He looked toward the Scout Guards who had arrived with him. Let’s separate them in the fly-bots. It was an unnecessary statement since only two would comfortably fit in the back seat of a fly-bot. Put this one in the back of mine.

I will ride with you, Spavin blurted. He feared what Nevlyn might be encouraged to say to the curious Scout Guard Leader.

No, I think you and your daughter need to ride with Scout Guard Lorenz. He pointed at Sasha as he spoke.

The five were assisted into the back seats of the fly-bots. Clarissa and Stephanie rode together. Scout Guard Leader Clawst led the group south at a high rate of speed.

CHAPTER 2

Holding

T HE SCOUT Guard fly-bots did not travel at the standard altitude. Through the metal mesh that separated the back seat from the front seat, Spavin saw the altimeter indicator register two-thousand. The Scout Guard Leader apparently did not want to be concerned with maneuvering around regular traffic.

From two-thousand feet, Spavin was able to get a view of Lawson City as they approached. The city sprawled across the landscape. It was a bustling metropolis built on and in the rolling terrain. A cluster of multistoried buildings indicated the commercial district of the coastal city. He saw no indication of vehicular traffic on the narrow streets that separated the buildings. Residential areas, neat and orderly with ample green space, spread out from the center of the city and merged into fields. Shopping centers were defined by large parking areas, an indication that people were fond of their personal transportation vehicles. Even so, it was apparent that very little ground space was dedicated to fly-bot paths inside the city. The vehicles remained airborne until they reached their destination, at which time they were set down and parked.

The Scout Guards’ destination was on the southeastern side of town. From that vantage point, even in the light of dusk, Spavin saw the ocean stretch to the southern horizon and caught a glimpse of a busy harbor area. He knew that the citizens would have had to dredge shipping lanes in the shallow water of the gulf. In spite of the circumstances of the moment, he smiled. Another Technology Development Plan node had been successfully completed.

Even though it had been less than a day since their last meeting, Spavin missed Chief Engineer Rybrt Cklne. He knew that he would feel the absence of the short, pear shaped man. He admired and trusted the pale-skinned man who, along with Master Gardener Stevk Bydman, shared the same family tent with the Lawsons during the arduous trek from Wyoming two centuries earlier.

The fly-bot dropped straight down into the center section of a large, square shaped complex. As the vehicle descended, Spavin realized that he would not be in a position to see the city’s exterior until he could extricate himself from the situation he and his family faced. The fly-bots were parked inside a dimly lit parking garage.

Remain seated until she exits, Scout Guard Lorenz warned as she opened the back seat door on Sasha’s side. Watch your head, Spavin, she said when she cautiously assisted the tall man from the back of the fly-bot.

Spavin immediately looked around to make sure the others were also assisted from their fly-bots. He smiled reassuringly at the girls and Clarissa. He wished he felt as confident as his smile. Was your ride comfortable? he asked to augment his message of confidence.

Before anyone could answer, Scout Guard Leader Clawst nudged Nevlyn forward and said, No talking. Follow Scout Guard Lorenz.

Waiting Scout Guards stepped between each of the prisoners to prevent conversation or touching. A steel door blocked their exit from the garage area. Scout Guard Lorenz flashed a security card through a reader and Spavin heard the latch release. She held the door open for him to pass through and handed off the door to the next Scout Guard who was leading Clarissa.

An entry room greeted them. A glass door was emblazoned with lettering Lawson City Holding. Another swipe of the security card was required before that door opened. Scout Guard Lorenz did not allow the door to remain open. Each Scout Guard had to use his or her security card to gain access.

This way. Scout Guard Lorenz motioned toward one of three well lit hallways that were available. She followed behind Spavin as another Scout Guard led him. The leading Scout Guard pulled an outward opening door and stood by to point Spavin into a small room with a cot, a toilet and a sink. The Scout Guard followed Spavin and Scout Guard Lorenz inside and closed the door behind them. He watched carefully while Scout Guard Lorenz removed the hand restraint from Spavin’s wrists and forearms. While the attending Security Guard warily watched Spavin, Scout Guard Lorenz used a security card to unlock the door. The two Scout Guards left together and made sure the door latched securely.

Hey, where’s my family? Spavin shouted at the closing door. He had not expected them to be separated. He pounded on the locked door for a few minutes in a vain attempt to get someone’s attention. He finally submitted to reality and sat on a wall protrusion that was designed to serve as a chair. He nervously waited and worried. For the first time that he could remember, he felt completely ineffective. He hoped that the girls were allowed to stay in the same room, especially Nevlyn and Stephanie. He felt added responsibility for the pale youngster. Spavin had promised Master Gardener Stevk Bydman that he would take care of his friend’s daughter.

Scout Guard Commander Blake Stephens smiled at the small figure seated across the flat table from him. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners and each cheek was dimpled. His sandy brown hair was flecked with gray at the temples. He studied a single piece of paper handed to him by Scout Guard Leader Clawst. Hello, my name is Commander Blake Stephens. What is your name?

Nevlyn shrunk inside her hooded robe to distance herself from the smiling man. She was angry that she had been separated from Stephanie and the others too long, probably all night as best she could reckon. When Scout Guards brought her food earlier, she tried to get them to tell her what hour of the day it was. They left the food on a wall protrusion and locked the door. Later, the same Scout Guards escorted her to the current room where she sat. She held her hands in her lap and did not answer.

Commander Blake Stephens read the notations on the paper. The tiny figure had apparently taken Scout Guard Lorenz by surprise and knocked the much larger woman to the ground. There was no notation to indicate how the tiny person had accomplished the task against a well trained and highly decorated Scout Guard. The only other notations were that the figure was a female who called herself Shadow Warrior Nevlyn and that she was found to be carrying two small knives, similar to those carried by Army and Navy Guards. It says here that you call yourself Nevlyn. Is that true?

Nevlyn stared through her goggles at the man. She saw his smile weaken. He was losing his patience quickly. She had already lost hers. The people had attacked Stephanie and Spavin. They were enemies. She kept her silence.

Commander Blake Stephens arose from his chair and approached a light switch. He looked back at Nevlyn. I am going to lower the light intensity so that you can remove your hood and goggles. His fingers manipulated the control and the room darkened considerably. He returned to his chair and waited…and waited.

Nevlyn broke. Even her light sensitive eyes did not function well in dim lighting while wearing the dark goggles. She had to be able to adequately see the man if she was to defend herself. She cautiously slipped the hood off her head and removed her goggles. She did not speak.

Commander Blake Stephens controlled his reaction. He knew history. He had seen pictures of the original founders of Lawson City, back when it was called Texas City. The small people were pale-skinned with lavender eyes because they lacked pigmentation. The lack of melanin required them to protect themselves from the Sun’s UV rays. The last of the purebred former citizens of the cave city known as Resurgent City had died almost a hundred years earlier. The leaders of Texas had encouraged crossbreeding among the various groups of people so the genetic pool would remove some of the bad traits that had developed during the generations of isolation following the Cataclysms. His practiced smile exposed his straight, white teeth. That’s better. Now we can talk as friends. What is your name?

Shadow Warrior Nevlyn Bydman, Nevlyn replied tersely.

Shadow Warrior? The Commander lost his smile and his brow wrinkled. Even though he had read Scout Guard Leader Clawst’s notation to that effect, hearing the words spoken in the guttural old English dialect disturbed him. That title was only used once in history. It was engraved in the base of a statue outside the Capitol Building in the Capitol Complex Plaza at the center of Lawson city. It identified the statue of a famous figure in Texas’ history, Nevlyn Bydman. He was convinced that the young girl sitting across the table from him was delusional. Scout Guard Leader Clawst had made the same notation on the slip of paper. He wondered if he could get any usable information from her. Why are you called Shadow Warrior Nevlyn Bydman?

Warrior Stephanie and I defeated the cannibals in the Battle of Chameander Camp. Warrior Stephanie taught me how to fight the way of the hand. Nevlyn glared into the blue eyes of her tormentor.

Commander Blake Stephens knew his Texas history. Books had been written to recount the struggles of the Founders of Texas as they fought against seemingly insurmountable odds in their search for better times on the Texas coast.