Legion's Land

By H. L. Chandler

ow much freedom are people willing to sacrifice for safety? In the aftermath of a nuclear devastated world the Delaney family lived a comfortable life. Nora Delaney worked for Heartland State Resources. Her husband, Bill, worked at Enable Incorporated who provided systems to improve companies' production. The Total Child Development program cared for their children.

There was no unemployment, the state provided jobs for everyone. Nothing went wrong so long as citizens stayed within the law. Josh and Ellen Sebring wanted to obey the law, but the price was too high. They lost their lives and the state took their son anyway.

 

When Celena and Maggie Delaney meet Rolan Sebring at the TCD academy the three children set in motion events that will bring about the destruction of their way of life. Nora, along with Rolan's aunt and uncle, to protect the children flee with them to the unknown Outland. The drought stricken land harbors genetic mutants and outcasts of all sort. In the area between the City-States life is hard. Yet, amidst the dry and barren land rides the Reunion Army, their goal is to reunite the country.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wings ePress, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9781613090879

Book preview

Prologue

Legions of outcasts in a desolate land

Where no rivers flow and green stuff don't grow.

Life is short and bitter and soon it’s under the sand.

That's the lot of the legions in a desolate land.

Outlanders marching song

There was a special ward in the Boone County Hospital. It was on the seventh floor of the north wing. The maternity ward was on the first floor of the south wing. Both wards treated pregnant women, but they were as far apart in treatment procedure as they were in location.

Ellen Sebring lay on her back in a room on the seventh floor; her distended belly a huge mound under the white sheet, her arms and legs strapped tight to the hospital bed. A couple of hours ago, after the evening meal, the nurse had drawn the drapes, shutting out the coming night. Ellen wished she could see the sky. The stars might comfort her. Tears slid from the corners of Ellen's brown eyes and rolled down her temples into her ears. She always kept a straight face when Josh, her husband, was in the room with her. If she cried, so would he. They both needed to be strong. They had prayed for days. They had prayed to escape and find a hiding place where Ellen could deliver this poor child in safety. However, it appeared the Lord had other plans.

The metallic click of the doorknob, and a soft swoosh of the heavy door opening startled her. She hoped none of the staff was coming to check on her again. Their presence made her feel even more a prisoner.

When she saw it was Josh, fear left her; she blinked away her tears. The sight of his rumpled brown hair and deep brown eyes filled her heart with joy under any circumstances.

Hi, Josh said as he came into the private room. There isn't anyone in the hallway, so I thought I could sneak in to see you.

Ellen nodded, smiled and sniffed once. Why bother to guard me? How could I get away? Ellen tugged at the restraints around her wrists.

Josh's face turned fiery red. His lips twisted in a snarl. He stepped to the side of the bed and removed the bands holding her left hand.

I am so sorry, he said. I should have taken you away when we had the chance, before it was too late. It is all my fault.

Hush, hush. It isn't your fault. I knew what I was doing when I wouldn't let them abort this baby. Ellen gave a harsh laugh. I just didn't know how far they would go to make me comply.

Josh sat on a straight-backed chair and held Ellen's hand. I talked to a lawyer this morning. He is highly recommended for cases such as this.

And?

Nothing. He says we don't have any recourse. The Life Centers have total control of all reproduction. And... Josh's voice tightened, ...control of resources for life enhancement. What makes it worse is that it seems you and I produce a highly desirable commodity.

Ellen jerked her hand away and spread her fingers across her stomach. She squeezed her eyes shut and forced back a sob. This baby was full term, ready to be born. As much as Ellen already loved him, she thought perhaps it would be better if he went to God rather than come into this world.

She and Josh had been married barely more than a year. They were entitled by law to have two children. However, they would not sign the Total Child Development agreement. It was a new law. All parents must agree to let the state raise their children and instill the proper values in them. This government agency was formed due to severe conditions.

Forty years earlier, a devastating world war had left all nations in tatters. Historians, the few remaining, attributed the near annihilation of the human race to extreme over-population, which in turn had put unbearable strain on rapidly dwindling natural resources. In the same time period, weather patterns changed drastically. It was almost as if the climate went as insane as the earth's warring inhabitants did. Due to advanced weapons, the war was over in a matter of months. Afterward, America was lucky to have formed a few City-States. There were only three of them across the country. Each struggled to provide for its citizens. The rest of the land was left to survive the best it could.

The controlled areas could not sustain themselves if the population and resources were not under strict control. Ellen and Josh agreed with limiting the population... they'd be thrilled with two children. However, being what most people called fanatics, they would not let a soulless state raise their children.

Josh stood up and began to pace at the foot of Ellen's bed. Then he lunged to her right side and removed the restraints on her right arm. Next, he jerked the sheet from around Ellen's legs and frantically tore at the plastic straps holding her ankles.

Josh, what are you doing? The guard may come in any minute.

We are getting out of here, Josh panted.

But...how?

I don't know!

Josh put his arm around Ellen's shoulders and lifted her to a sitting position. She stared at him, her heart raced, and she felt the baby move. She laced her arms across her stomach.

Can you stand? asked Josh.

Ellen nodded. I think so. They've let me up to go to the toilet. I think my legs are still strong.

Yet, her legs trembled. Whether from fright or weakness, Ellen wasn't sure. It was a near certainty they could not escape the hospital. However, keeping her eyes on Josh's determined face, Ellen was willing to try. They didn't have anything to lose. If they stayed, the local Life Center could use the baby any way it saw fit. That included keeping the baby as a living donor for aging bodies. That the Center might raise him in the Total Child Development program was the best they could hope for. Ellen wasn't sure which was worse. Either way, her baby had no chance of a decent life.

Josh slipped to the door and carefully cracked it open. The guard's chair was still empty. He hurried to a white, plastic chest opposite Ellen's bed and opened a drawer. Where did they put your dress?

Next drawer. My shoes are under the chest.

He brought Ellen's clothes to her. She pulled the long, loose dress over her head, not bothering to remove the Center's gown. She pushed her feet into the sandals and stood. Josh put his arm around her and they crossed the room to the hallway door.

He put his finger to his lips. Ellen nodded. She was numb. How had they become law-breakers? The Center had placed them on the sterilization list because they were uncooperative. This was the first and last pregnancy for Ellen and Josh. She licked her dry lips; they felt swollen and hot.

They had found many of the City-State regulations objectionable. Still, until now they had managed to live within the law. People who clung to the teachings of their individual religions were a distinct minority. Yet, religion as a whole flourished. The relatively new City-States all stoutly defended the freedom of religion, so long as the practice did not include breaking any secular laws.

Josh swallowed, Ellen saw how tight his jaw was. He'd grown thin, his eyes sunk in deep hollows. He looked gaunt. Ellen's heart twisted in pity. She clutched his arm, whispering in his ear.

Josh, we must pray before we try this.

He nodded. They stepped back from the door and pressed themselves against the wall. Josh put his head down, close to Ellen's bowed head.

Lord, we need help. Have pity on us. Above all, keep us close to you. And please, our baby... Josh's voice caught, then he continued. ... our baby. God, take care of him. Amen.

Ellen patted Josh's hand. I want to add something, she said.

Josh nodded.

Dear Lord, Ellen whispered. If we are stopped, and this baby is taken from us, let us present him to you now. We wish to call him Rolan. We ask that you protect Rolan. Amen.

Ellen smiled at Josh. They had decided to name the baby after Josh's father who died when Josh was a year old. Men who worked clearing areas of nuclear waste died young.

Josh gripped Ellen's hand. He slipped out the door into the bright hallway, pulling her after him. The nurses' station stood far down the hall near the middle of the ward. When this ward became the detention area for women who violated the new law, the stairway doors at either end were bolted shut. The only way off the ward was the one elevator. Beside the elevator was the door to a cleaning closet.

Josh looked in both directions; no one was in sight. Then he heard voices. The sound came from the nurses' station. Josh put his arm around Ellen and they scurried across the wide hallway. Josh pushed the button, but the doors did not open. Then he noticed the fingerprint pad beside the button. He'd forgotten the guard always rang for the elevator. He'd had no trouble coming to this floor, but leaving was not as easy. The voices down the hall grew louder, a man and woman. The woman laughed, a high, ringing sound. The man said: Better be getting back to work. Thanks for the coffee, we don't see much of it around our house, even the phony stuff. My shift ends in thirty minutes.

I'll be here most of the night, said the woman. One of the patients might go into labor.

How many you got tonight?

Not many. The two down by you and one here across from me.

Easy job, not any of them going to be running away. The man gave a harsh laugh.

Josh looked around, panic in his eyes. He jabbed the button one more time, then grabbed the handle of the door to the cleaning room. He drew Ellen inside the small area and quickly closed the door behind them.

What are we going to do? Ellen whispered.

I don't know. Maybe when the guards change shifts we can rush into the elevator and get it closed before they stop us.

Josh held Ellen tightly in his arms. They were both shaking. A skylight let a beam of dusky moonlight filter down into the room. There was a small barred window at the end of the room; Ellen could see the parking lot beyond the bars. Along either wall of the room stood shelves that reached to the ceiling. One was stacked with clean linen, the other held cleaning supplies. An empty laundry cart stood under the window at the end of the room.

Josh slowly moved away from Ellen and carefully tugged at the metal shelving. He looked up at the skylight. Ellen knew what he was thinking.

No, Josh. Even if I could climb up, I'd never fit through that opening, she whispered.

We don't know that. It may be larger than it looks, he whispered back.

Ellen almost smiled. Josh was forever the optimist. The ceiling was about ten feet high. She doubted the opening to the roof was any larger than it appeared. Josh moved a pile of sheets and searched the wall where the shelf uprights stood. He pointed to bolts holding the uprights fast to the wall. He raised his eyebrows and nodded at Ellen. Before she could stop him, Josh started up the wall, carefully placing his feet on each shelf. In seconds, he reached the ceiling. Josh placed one foot on the shelves on the east wall and the other foot on the shelves on the west wall. In the dim light, Ellen couldn't be sure, but it looked like Josh was smiling down at her. He placed his shoulder against the plastic skylight and pushed. A loud pop sounded.

Ellen stiffened. The guard wasn't that far away; he surely heard the noise. Josh didn't stop. After the first crack, the plastic came away from the frame with less noise. Ellen moved to the rear of the room. She pressed against the laundry cart. It looked like Josh was shoving the broken pieces of plastic out onto the roof. The roof! What would they do if they got that far? Seven stories up, how could they get down?

An alarm suddenly sounded. Ellen froze. Josh looked down at her. She looked around in panic. She started to climb up the shelves; she had to be with Josh. He had wedged his shoulders through the skylight and was starting to pull himself up. Ellen felt a surge of hope. If she could reach the top shelf, he could pull her through too. A strong pain struck in her back and traveled around her sides. The harsh cramp caught in the middle of her stomach and clung there.

Ellen bit her lower lip to keep from crying out. She dropped down from the two shelves she had climbed. The pain was crushing. She tried to breathe, but even the breath seemed force out of her. Ellen put out a hand and clamped it over the edge of the laundry cart. Quickly as it came the pain eased.

The alarm bell was clanging like a fire alarm. Maybe it was a fire, Ellen thought with wild hope. Josh's legs dangled above her. She heard footsteps outside the door. As the door handle turned, the guard was yelling to someone. She has to be here. She couldn't get out.

Ellen steadied herself against the shelves and quickly climbed into the laundry cart. Then she pulled two sheets from the shelves and covered herself.

When the door opened, yellow light spilled into the small room. Ellen trembled. She prayed that Josh had pulled his legs up and could get away.

Look! Up there, cried a guard.

Ellen heard shuffling and banging against the shelves.

Stop! Stop or I'll shoot.

The explosion filled the small room and Ellen's ears rang. One of the men bumped against the cart; she felt his leg through the canvas siding.

Hey, what's this? he yelled.

Before Ellen could draw another breath they jerked her to her feet and dragged her out of the cart. The nurse was standing in the door.

Don't hurt her. The life product may still be viable.

The two guards squeezed Ellen's arms and shoved her toward the door. The nurse quickly gave Ellen an injection that took effect immediately. The hallway became a blur of white ceiling and gray floor tile. Her knees buckled; she had time only to breathe a prayer. God, preserve Josh and our baby.

~ * ~

Sometime later Ellen heard a baby cry. Her head seemed filled with foam, her breathing was shallow, and a vague pain gripped her body. In the glare of lights, voices came from above her. They sounded hollow and far away.

He is a strong one, isn't he? A lusty voice for sure.

Whoever gets these parts will thank their lucky stars. Is he to be taken to Life Enhancement?

I don't know. I was told to wait for the Director from the local Life Center.

In the distance a door swung open and closed with a soft swoosh.

Let me see the newborn.

Here he is, Director.

All tests completed?

Yes.

The Director held the baby up, turning him from side to side, then put him down into the warmed infant basket.

What fools the parents were. They could have saved themselves. They were so fearful of putting this child into the program they lost their lives. The father's body was recovered from the roof.

Ellen tried to roll her head; still it didn't seem to move. Yet, from the corner of her eye she saw the Director peering down at her baby.

Looks extremely strong for a newborn. Good color. Look, he's already trying to move around. I believe it would best serve the interest of the state if this child entered the program. With his attributes, he'll make an excellent citizen. We'll raise him right. Record what he came from and what we can make of him. Now, what shall we name him? Let me see those records. Father's name was Josh Sebring. We don't want another rebellious Josh.

The Director glanced down at the baby. My, my. Looks like he's trying to roll over. How about Rolan? Yes, Rolan Sebring. A strong name for a strong child. The Director chuckled, smug in his choice of a name and at the same time pleased with his joke.

A smile touched Ellen's lips as she slipped away.

One

Saturday. Family day. Nora Delaney smiled as she slowly drank her imitation coffee. Any minute her two daughters would be home. Nora hoped Bill, their father, would come downstairs before the girls arrived. She needed to talk with him and once the children burst through the door the chance would be gone. The girls would be full of stories about their week at school. Nora looked forward to the four of them having breakfast together. It was the only day of the week they managed this. Sunday morning was a rush getting everyone ready for church, and after church the girls always had some place they had to go, or they would simply die. Since they were home only on the weekends, Nora and Bill tried to make the time count.

Her heart softened at the thought of her girls. Celena was fourteen years old. Maggie had turned nine last December. Celena looked like Nora, tall, light brown hair and soft brown eyes. Even though Celena had inherited Nora's physical features, she seemed far more refined. A delicate lady in the making. Maggie’s hair was darker with red highlights that went with her snapping brown eyes, and her lively disposition. Maggie was small for her age; she'd not be as tall as Celena, yet she made up for it with a strong spirit. Then, as the initial warm thoughts faded, Nora frowned. It wasn't fair the girls were home only on the weekends. The idea exploded in her mind, sending shards of shrapnel straight into her heart. Now where had that come from? she wondered. Sixteen years ago Nora had agreed to the program. She had actually helped lobby for the passing of the Total Child Development bill. She was a young idealist back then.

As William Delaney came into the family room, Nora looked up. She expected him to be wearing his Saturday clothes: well-worn jeans, a soft old sweatshirt and leather moccasins. He was in full weekday dress. Bill stood before her in a crisp charcoal gray suit, a brilliant white shirt, and a crimson silk tie. His brown hair lay freshly combed and his brown eyes were clear as bright sunlight. His smile displayed a perfect set of teeth. The sight of him still made Nora catch her breath.

Bill swung the case holding his portable office up onto the counter top that divided the kitchen from the communications room.

You look comfortable, he said.

Nora frowned. Why aren't you? Where are you going?

Sorry, I meant to tell you, but you were asleep when I came home. You looked beat. I didn't want to wake you.

I'm awake now.

It's Rob Hastings. We were ready to install the start-up features in his automated production line when he ran into some sort of labor dispute. I don't get these people! They think they can stop what is coming, but they can't. If they were smart, they'd take advantage of the classes, re-tool themselves.

Rob owned Hastings Affordable Homes. He manufactured subsidized low-cost housing. Rob bid on government contracts to supply homes for people housed by the governing body of the City-State. This in truth was everyone, including Rob's employees.

Bill worked for Enable Incorporated. They designed, built and installed equipment for companies who were ready to step up to total automation. It was Bill's job to sell owners like Rob on the plan, and then follow the project through to final installation and initial operations. When Bill went after a company, he usually landed it. Then he hovered over the process until the new installation was up and running. His friends at work jokingly called him Iron Fist. No one escaped his grasp. He tore into his work with eagerness and pride. It would be useless to ask him to forsake the project and spend Saturday with his family.

Bill smiled at Nora and poured himself a cup of the coffee-flavored drink.

Nora sighed. What time do you think you'll be home?

Soon as I can, but don't wait up. Why don't you and the girls go out, a picnic maybe?

Maybe...but, I did want to talk to you, Bill. I need your help in making a decision.

It will have to wait, Nora.

Until when? Nora tried to keep her voice steady. Still, it cracked a bit and sounded small and weak.

Bill's eyes darkened to a deep brown. Something wrong I should know about?

Not really, but...

Then I don't have time right now. Bill shot out his wrist, turning it slightly to read his slender gold watch. Whatever it is will have to wait.

The morning drink in Nora's stomach turned to pure acid. It fueled an anger that bubbled up out of nowhere. Nora couldn't draw a deep breath; her mouth turned dry and her lips trembled.

Will you be home tomorrow? Or will you be with Rob Hastings on Sunday, too? Nora's clipped words came from between narrowed lips.

Oh, for god's sake, Nora. Please. If I have to sit with Rob day and night until his plant is operational, I will! There will be a fat bonus when this is over. I shouldn’t have to tell you how much we need the credits in our account. While I'm gone, why don't you check out our financial situation. You have all the access codes. Take a good look at where we stand. Then you'll be more sympathetic to my position.

I know exactly where we stand. Don't act as if you are the only one carrying the burden. I have a stack of work in the office that would take me all day if I chose to do it. We both work hard, Bill. But we need these two days for our family. What am I to tell the girls?

You'll think of something. Bill again glanced at his shining five-thousand-credit watch and said, Got to go. He grabbed the handle of his computer case and brushed his lips against Nora's cheek. See you later.

Bill left the kitchen, went through the large utility area and into the four-car garage. In seconds Nora heard a garage door rise and the throaty engine of Bill's reconditioned Olympian. The shining bronze car with the powerful engine was one of the reasons they were in debt. Bill had waited months for the automobile repair center to find and finish this car. Nora drove an Electra, also unpaid for, but at least it was a more reasonable price. She liked her small car; it ran on electricity and had a solar source, too. Bill liked to point out that it took oil to produce the electricity and Nora always countered with, Yes, but they use coal too.

The truth was that all resources were in short supply in the City-State of Heartland. Rob Hastings certainly didn't use natural lumber in his home construction. Tree farms could supply only so much pine. Oak, walnut, and ash... all hardwoods were a luxury. At first, radiation destroyed all the pine and spruce as they had roughly the same susceptibility as humans. The surviving hardwood forests became the sole source of lumber. The trees provided firewood and building materials until they were gone. Now, the only available wood was pine because of its quick growth. Most of what passed for wood was a fabricated compressed product made from debris. Plastics took up some slack, still even that was scarce because of the oil shortage. There were still oil sources on the North American continent, not like Japan, which had none. Yet, it hardly mattered because that island nation hadn't survived. The Great Destruction destroyed Japan. It sank beneath the waves.

Nora looked around her kitchen. The tile floor was from Italy, the soapstone sink and counter from England. The water faucets were metal and the woodwork was oak. Yet none of the items was directly from the country of origin. Old houses that had survived the devastation provided materials and parts. Standing buildings with usable wood and fixtures were at a premium. Nora should know. Her job with Mid-City Government Resources kept her well aware of what was available and what was not. Nora liked her work, but as Bill enjoyed pointing out, she was simply a record-keeping clerk. It was true. She was not at a decision-making level. She was glad she wasn't. She didn't want to decide who got what and why.

The Delaneys were fortunate. They lived in one of the best sections of Mid-City. Nora loved the house, but she remembered her grandparents’ home and it was every bit as nice. Lucky for the family it was still standing after the war. Nora sighed. Everything dated from that horrible time fifty-five years ago. By the time Nora was born, the City-States were managing to provide for their citizens. But not soon enough to save her parents.

It destroyed them. Nora's father gave up completely and never drew a sober breath; her mother worked herself to death trying to feed the family. Famine and disease plagued everyone. Nora's grandparents finished raising Nora and her brother, Rondell.

She remembered her tenth birthday. Her grandmother saved flour and sugar for two months to have enough to make Nora a small cake. Still, the Marston family was better off than most. Bill Delaney's family separated, members going anywhere to find work. Those who couldn't find a job resorted to stealing to eat. It was hard to blame them. It was also hard to blame Bill for his aggressive work habits now. He couldn't seem to get enough 'things'. It was as if he needed possessions to build a wall of security for himself, even if he was in debt to do it.

Nora pressed her hand to her forehead. Her hand was cold and her head felt hot and dry. She shouldn't have been sharp with Bill. They had enough tension in their lives. She looked at the kitchen clock...the girls should have been home by now. Nora took what passed for coffee and walked to the formal living room and into the wide entrance hall. She opened the heavy oak door and peered through the grillwork storm door. Tall slender evergreens flanked the long curving drive. The sweeping view to the street was lovely. Having been one of the first restored areas, Mid-City had more years in which to recover.

A green bus with solar panels on the top stopped at the foot of the drive. She breathed a sigh of relief. Her girls were home. Each time she saw them, she had to hold back the tears. It was torture to give up her children to the state. Still, it was surely for the best. Everyone said it was. At least now most of the violence was under control in the protected cities. Children were safer at school.

The situation had become desperate. Everyone had to work. No one had time to care for children. Educators felt that if they had more control, they could keep the children safe. After several years of fierce fighting among legislators, parents and the school systems, they reached a decision. For the welfare of the children, the government would assume responsibility for the development of all children.

When Total Child Development (TCD) became law, a small group of parents marched in protest. The stiff non-compliance penalties soon silenced them. An even smaller group, mostly the fanatic religious, became fugitives. She supposed most of them were dead by now. It was hard enough for the government to find food for the protected population. Those families who ran would have had nothing to eat. Perhaps they grew some food for themselves, but where would they have found seed? Part of her job at the bureau was to inventory and record the distribution of seeds. Food and water had the highest priority on the list of natural resources. The men who regulated a city's water supply had almost as much power as the president of each City-State. Free elections were examples of Heartland's democracy; still she wondered who actually controlled her City-State. No matter who became president, rules and laws did not change except to become more restrictive, and the army stood by in case someone wanted to disagree. Now few citizens bothered to vote. In the end, election committees made the actual decision anyway.

Mom, open the door. My arms are full! Celena stumbled across the broad porch carrying a canvas clothes bag across her shoulder and both arms loaded with schoolwork. Nora swung open the grillwork and lifted the laundry bag off Celena's shoulder. Back down the driveway, Maggie shuffled along, dragging her laundry bag and nearly dropping her school pack.

Nora shaded her eyes against the bright morning sun. Maggie, she called. Come on. Move it. I can't hold this door all day.

Maggie looked up, made a small effort to hurry, and then seemed unable to keep up the pace. Nora shook her head, sighed and carried Celena's dirty clothes bag into the house. By the time she returned from the laundry room, Celena was sprawled on the couch. She'd shoved the piece of heavy bronze sculpture on the coffee table aside and propped her feet on the table's glass top. She was drinking a soda. There were lavender shadows under her brown eyes and her arms and legs encased in the school's brown uniform seemed stick-thin. Nora sat down beside her and brushed sable-soft hair back from Celena's forehead.

Do you feel all right, honey?

Celena shrugged.

You look worn out. Are you sleeping okay?

Celena raised her eyebrows and rolled her eyes.

Seriously, Celena. You don't look well.

Celena pulled away and stood. It's Saturday, I'm tired. That’s all.

Nora stood too and reached to put her hand on Celena's cheek. It looked feverish. Celena ducked.

Come on, Mom. You don't see me all week, now you hover around trying to act maternal.

What is that supposed to mean?

Whatever, Celena said.

Maggie dragged her laundry bag into the living room. You two fighting already? Maggie's voice was bright and brittle as a glass bell.

Nora began to wish she had never started this day. She tried to smile at Maggie. No, Maggie. We are not fighting. I just thought Celena looked overly tired.

She should.

Celena shot Maggie an icy stare.

What do you mean? asked Nora.

People who stay up all night are usually tired the next day, said Maggie.

Nora whirled toward Celena. Who let you stay up all night?

It was Friday, Mom. Everyone does. I always do. You just don't notice because Dad is normally here taking up everyone's time. Where is He Who Reigns?

Maggie giggled.

Nora felt the floor under her feet shift, just the smallest bit. It was like the first tremor of an earthquake. Except this time, the earth wasn't moving. It was the underpinnings of Nora's family.

Your father had to work today. But we can do something fun. What would you like to do?

Celena yawned. Sleep.

Maggie said, Let's go out some place. Let's go before noon. Can we?

Maggie was every bit as thin as Celena. The brown school uniforms, wrist to ankle coveralls, were unflattering to most of the girls. The boys didn't look as bad in them. The idea behind the unisex dress was sound. If everyone looked more alike, there should be less harassment. It put all the children on an even footing. It also solved the problem of equality between the sexes.

The brown cloth was a nutmeg color and Maggie, with her dark eyes and red/brown hair, completely blended with her clothes. She looked like a twig, or a wood sprite. She ran to Nora and threw her arms around Nora's waist. Maggie's upturned face was full of hope. We can go, can't we? Anywhere is all right with me. Celena can stay here and sleep. Let's go right now.

Hold on, sweetheart. You need to clean up and put away your school things. Why the hurry?

Maggie's long eyelashes fluttered over her lively brown eyes and her narrow nine-year-old face seemed to shut down. No reason. I'll take my stuff upstairs.

Celena started toward the kitchen with her empty glass. A sly smile slid across her lips. Nora looked first at Maggie and then Celena. What is going on here?

Maggie's eyes widened in innocence. Nothing.

I bet she wants to leave the house before Amanda Kidder calls, Celena said over her shoulder as she left the room.

Amanda Kidder was Maggie's Development Leader. Each leader supervised fifteen children. When TCD, Total Child Development, became law, school became one of the largest employers in the state.

Nora frowned at Maggie.

Is that right, Mag?

Maggie scratched the side of her freckled nose and looked toward the corner of the ceiling.

Come on, said Nora. What is going on?

Maggie stomped her foot. I didn't do anything! School is stupid. I don't want to go back.

At that point, the communication center light came on and a buzzer sounded in the living room. Nora sighed and headed for the communication room near the kitchen. The small room had a counter down one wall that held a combination solid-copy-sender and picture telephone. A large viewing screen hung on the wall above the counter. Two comfortable-looking armchairs sat in front of the equipment. Nora hit the speaker button to answer the incoming call.

Good morning, this is Nora Delaney.

A smiling, red-haired woman of about forty years of age appeared on the screen. Mrs. Delaney. I'm Amanda Kidder. I've called about Maggie. Is Mr. Delaney home? I'd like to speak with both of you. Her voice ended with an expectant upswing.

I'm sorry, he's not home. One of his clients needed him today. Nora wished she didn't feel compelled to explain. She could not imagine what Maggie might have done to warrant a call from Ms. Kidder.

I see. Would it be possible for Maggie to be present? We like to keep our children in the loop, so to speak.

Nora glanced toward the door in time to see Maggie's brown curls duck back around the doorjamb. Maggie, she called. Please come in.

Maggie plopped down in an armchair beside her mother. She bunched her lips into a tight little knot and her brown eyes narrowed to mica slits. Nora reached across the small space and patted Maggie's hand.

What is it you called about, Ms. Kidder?

Ms. Kidder smiled with full, glossy red lips. "It seems Maggie is having an attitude problem.