00108




Gov. Xavier Bright sat in his inner office at his desk. He routed his personal screen through to the larger office screen and watched the blank plate expectantly.

At last, a picture flashed onto the screen, a scene displaying a large cavern. Benches encircled a gaping hole in the center of the cavern- a twelve-foot deep pit, the Gladiator Pit. Electric lamps hung from the cavern ceiling, with particular emphasis above the fifteen foot by fifteen foot hole, illuminating its rock walls and all the stones strewn across its rough bottom. The live drone camera panned the view, and it showed up on the Governor's large wall screen. This pit was where lots of exciting action was to take place in a few short minutes. Everything in the spectators' section pointed to the pit. The cavern's roof and floor sloped down toward the pit, and each spectator seat had a bird's eyeview of the square ring down in the pit below. The pit became the primary focus of the cameras, both stationary and the roving drone. All the cameras were there for the amusement of Gov. Bright.


Greyish green miners with varying shades of red tint hurried into the crude stadium, the first arrivals naturally grabbing the benches closest to the upcoming action. A couple of Diggers looked at the cameras, a little curious, but then, not wanting to miss any of the promised battle, kept their attention on the pit, waiting as expectantly as Gov. Bright for the fight.


Warden Ung's voice came over the screen's  broadcast. "How is your reception, Gov. Bright?"

"Just fine, Warden Ung. I must say, I am very pleased to be able to watch this gladiator match live. I had thought I would have to settle for a recording. Is the fact that it is a live feed the reason it took so long for you to set up the match after the day I gave you the go-ahead?"

"Partly, Sir. I assumed you might like to see it live; who wouldn't want to? Wiring up a system for live quality broadcasting posed a few problems for us, but that's only part of the reason for why it took so long to arrange this fight, Sir."

"I see. And what else, then?"

"Well, Gov. Bright, you have your goal of how much ore you want mined and processed each month- but you've increased how much we should process this month. In fact, the amount is so much more than we usually do, that the processor has been running night and day these past two weeks straight, without a break at all, Sir. But I know that your most loyal miners, those whom we count on to run the processor and to keep mum over the operation, well, I know they would love to see a good match, especially since there hasn't been one here for a long time. And this one promises to be so exciting, with Sec. Ldr. Clyden, I mean, No. 360, who wants to fight for your honor, against those two most ungrateful miners, Nos. 248 and 317. Your trusted miners, who were working so hard at the processor, deserved the chance to see the fight, I thought. So, I waited until after we finally were able to reach- and exceed, I might add- your set quota for fuel ore processing, and then I set up this event, so everybody who wanted to and deserved to see it, could enjoy it. I waited to accommodate them, Sir, the loyal miners. I hope you do not mind the slight delay."

"No, Warden Ung. I concur with your decision. However, my free time shall be severely limited in these next few days and weeks. Will I have to wait much longer for the spectacle to begin?"

"No, sir. We are fetching 248 and 317 from their cages."

"Good. I only wish I had some popcorn."


Meanwhile, at the mining mountain, inside the mines, in his cage, No. 248 finished his measly dinner after another hard day of work. At least he did not get called for any special duty, such as digging out the pure fuel stones. But no sooner than he had finished eating, a gush of guards (both human and robot) streamed into the Incarceration Hall.

Some of the guards went directly to George's/No. 317's cage, and the rest of them came to 248's.

The posted on-duty guard, whose duty was to keep his eyes at all times on 248 and 317, making sure there were no escape attempts, brightened as the troop of guards came inside. "Ah, are you all here to fetch them? Is the match going to finally take place?"

One of the arrivals got a key for the cages holding the two miners. "Yes the match is. I hope you made your bets by now." He took the key over to the cage which housed 248 and unlocked the door. "Okay, No. 248, time for the gladiator games!"

248 remained sitting. "Oh, is it? If it's all the same to you, I'd rather sit this one out."

"Well, it's not, so, let's go." He sent a robot into the cage, to try and drag out 248 by his feet.

248 swatted the robot aside. The miner then stood. "Okay, I'll go. But I don't like it. And I'm not fighting."

248 figured his pal George/317 would feel the same way. He watched him, George in his own cage, as the guards came over to 317.

Huh? 248 couldn't believe or understand George's reaction. How disappointing, to see his friend so enthused over something like the gladiator games, that he was shadow boxing in his cage, in eager anticipation! Warming up for the fight! He though he knew George, and that George was better than that!

George eagerly hopped out of the cage. "Okay, I'm ready! If this No. 360 wants a fight so badly, I shall give him one!"

"Now, that's more like it!" cheered another guard. He had seen a few of the gladiator matches before, and he relished the idea of seeing another one. He turned to the reluctant 248 and tried to encourage him. "See, you should be like your friend here. And don't be scared. It's two of you against one single miner. How much trouble can that be?"

248 sighed. "I'm not afraid. However, I have no reason to fight this miner who insists on challenging me."

"Ha, well, he sure thinks he has reason to fight you, anyway, so you better psyche yourself up for a decent rumble. Besides, I put some money on your team."


George/317 wondered just what Clyden's plan of escape was. He looked forward to the match, in order to find out the details. Whatever it was, he sure hoped the plan worked.

The guards chained the two "bad" miners together with an extremely thick, strong chain. As they led the miners from the incarceration center and down the tunnel beyond, the two miners did not have much opportunity to converse. George saw the deep concern and the puzzlement on 248's face because of how George obviously welcomed the upcoming match, and he wished he had had the chance to explain to No. 248 that this was part of Clyden's escape plan. But he and 248 were always being watched, with no time for private discussions anymore.

The guards took them to a lift, which was wide enough that it could contain the whole party. It took them down, down, down. Almost down as far as the level of the secret processor, George guessed. The processor might only be one or two levels lower.

George, in all the time he had been here at the mines, had never been to a gladiator match. He had only heard of them. He tried to figure out just where they were going in the mines as the guards marched them down long tunnels with some twists and turns. He read the tunnel numbers to himself. As far as George could tell, they were heading to the far side of the mining mountain, away from the mine entrance many layers above. It seemed that they were almost in the same location as that secret processor, the one which the Council of Leaders had sent George here to the World of Hope to find out whether it existed. Well, he found out, but now what? What could he do about it?

At last, they reached the gladiator stadium. Quite a large cavern, George noted to himself. The guards led them down an aisle between benches loaded with miners, who screamed bad things at them when they saw the two Diggers enter and pass by. The aisle which the guards took George and 248 down led toward the lower part of the sloping cavern. George could see the deep hole and figured that was to be their ring. The drone camera flitted about, panning the sparring partner.

Someone- a guard? another miners?-somewhere announced over the PA system, momentarily interrupting the miners' perpetual digging music. "Miners and Diggers, attention, please. I now present to you the team of No. 248 and No. 317, two miners who do not love our beloved Gov. Bright, and who do not want to mine fuel ore, and who are always trying to get out of our lovely mines without proper permission. Let's have a big hand for them, miners!"

The miners screamed and cursed them even louder than when they were fist led in here. The guards brought 317 and 248 to the edge of the fight pit and kept the two there even after taking off their chains, making them endure the jeering taunts and the hissing from their fellow miners. More than a few miners managed to find some rocks in the rough-hewn cavern to toss at Nos. 248 and 317. One of the guards had to duck a badly aimed stone, which glanced off his helmet. The stone continued on, whacking the drone. It wobbled in the air.

An older guard smiled. He spoke to the crowd, "Yeah, you're right- They are trash!" With that, he and the rest of the human and robot guards suddenly, unceremoniously, all at once pushed the startled novice gladiators over the side. They fell into the pit with little dignity.

George and 248 thudded and bounced hard on the stones littering the bottom. They grunted from the impact.

George tried to whisper to his companion. "248, listen-" But he was drowned out by the sounds of loud, boisterous cheering above them.

The announcer's voice intoned, "And now, devoted miners, I give you our champion, No. 360, who will teach those ingrates more than a thing or two! By the time he finishes with them, they shall have learned respect and gratitude for our beloved Governor!"


Clyden dashed down the same aisle which George and 248 had been taken along. The spectators rose from their benches and wildly shouted his number. "360! 360!" Clyden paused at the edge of the pit, hamming it up. He strutted and flexed, and the crowd went wilder.

Clyden shouted, "Okay, my fellow-miners, we want to teach those rock-slugs how to honor Gov. Bright! Let's start the show!"

Clyden then leaned over the edge and shouted down to the two miners already in the pit, "Get ready, here I come!" He dove in, landing atop No. 217/George.

The amused announcer laughed, "Whoa, whoa, wait, 360, wait for some weapons to be thrown down there, to make it more interesting!"

But Clyden already had the fight going full swing. In fact, he had landed swinging as he fell onto George. George pushed him off and stood- Clyden socked both of his opponents in their eyes, both opponents at the same time, and then he grabbed their heads and knocked them together.

While they stumbled into each other, dazed, Clyden kicked 248 in the chest, so hard 248 flew into the wall of the pit, the wind knocked out of him. 248 struggled to catch his breath.

Clyden once more socked George, this time in his nose. He put a headlock on the hapless George, who gagged, "What are you doing?! Did you go nuts? I thought we weren't going to really fight each other!!"

Clyden could barely hear George above the applause. He whispered back, "Hey, we gotta make it look good. Do you think they'll toss us in the recovery room if we don't get seriously bruised? And we must get into the recovery room, for my plan to work! Besides, it'll be fun! Don't worry, we'll be okay, as long as we don't actually kill each other in the fight, in which case, of course, then we cannot rejuvenate, once we are dead. Otherwise, though, we will heal pretty quickly- So, just be careful about accidentally killing me!"

George managed to rasp out, "I... think you should... be worried about accidentally  you... killing me!"

Above, the announcer still laughed. "Okay, okay, so No. 360 doesn't like to waste time. But we want a really great match, don't we, so let's toss those weapons I promised down to them!"

A guard threw over the side of the pit several metal clubs, a knife with a specially hardened blade to slice miner skin, and a heavy-duty chains- the very one which had been used to bind 248 and 317 while bringing them here.

The miners watched Clyden's frenzied fury and continued to cheer, "360! 360!"

248 steadied himself against the wall, and just as he managed to catch his breath again, the weapons clattered down on him from overhead. 248 looked at the instruments of pain lying at his feet. He reached down and selected the thick, long chain. Seizing it, he ran over to where Clyden kept George in the headlock as the former Security Leader banged George's head repeatedly into the side of the pit.

Clyden's back was to 248 as he laughed at George's yells. "Do ya love the Governor yet??" 360 shouted loudly, and the crowd heard his shouts and stamped their feet with glee.

248 suddenly wrapped the chain around Clyden's neck from behind and pulled hard, so hard he pulled Clyden off of George. "Now, let's see how you like it! Enough of your crazy violence!"

It was Clyden's turn to gag. He twisted about, but as he twisted to catch 248 at his back, 248 stepped around him, keeping to Clyden's back. Clyden gurgled and tried to grab hold of the chain, but 248 did not let go. 248 yanked on it and Clyden flailed about, reaching and grabbing behind himself, only encountering air as 248 kept just out of his reach.

George rubbed his aching head. He gasped, seeing 248 choking, strangling Clyden. "248- what are- errk- errk-" He had a hard time croaking out any words, rubbing his neck, still hurting from the headlock.

248 refused to relent, despite Clyden's wildly swinging arms and his attempts to pull off the chain from around his neck. "No, you keep out of this, 317; I got him now," 248 called to George when George waved his hands wildly about, trying to get his friend's attention. George tried to speak, but only rasps came out his hurting throat. 248 said, "You can take it easy, let me handle him! I have him now, 317! If he is so foolish to insist on fighting both of us at the same time, then let him pay for his foolishness!"

And on the benches above, the miners gaped at what transpired. They stood up on their feet, anxious. The miners booed and hissed at the way the match was going. They chanted, "360! 360!", hoping their encouragement would be enough to revitalize No. 360, hoping to perhaps give his morale a boost, enough so that he could manage to turn the tables on 248.

Instead, 360's struggles grew weaker and weaker.

And 248 kept at it, wrapping another layer of the chain around Clyden's neck! 248 shouted at Clyden as he kept the chain around his neck. "Sorry, I don't like to do this, but I can't let you kill my friend! I will stop you, even if I must kill you!" He shouted it so loudly the miners in the stands could hear him.

Clyden slumped down on his knees, swaying about. And then he at last just sprawled down on the ground. And still, 248 kept the chain wrapped around his neck!

At last, 248 took off the chains from around Clyden's neck. 248 gave him a fierce kick. But Clyden didn't budge. He did not move at all! Was he even breathing??

A hush fell over the crowd. Even the guards (only the human guards, of course- not the robot guards), standing by the edge of the pit, gazed down, silent suddenly, amazed at this turn of events.

George, too, felt a shock overpower him. No! How can this be? What about their escape plans?? Now what will he and No. 248 do?

"248, you- you killed him!" He could finally get out some words, but too late to stop 248.

And in that silent cavern, George's words echoed and echoed again.

And suddenly, the miners all began to shout, "Noo! Nooo! Booo! Booo!" Some jumped up and were ready to leave their benches, as if they planned to go down into the pit themselves, and rip apart these unworthy miners who killed their champion.

The guards took out their blasters. "No, no, get back into your seats!" they commanded, fearing a riot, and with them caught in the middle. At first, it looked like the crazed mob would not listen, until finally, a guard yelled, "Sit back down! You know Gov. Bright does not like chaos! Return to your benches!"

Finally, the miners obeyed, grumbling, some almost crying.


In his comfortable office, Gov. Xavier Bright watched the screen, a bit surprised at this turn of events also. He stared at the screen for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders and turned off the office screen.

"That's how it goes. You win some, you lose some. At least you won't have to dig out ore anymore, Clyden."

Xavier Bright called Sec. Ldr. Morgan. "Since I laid my cards on the table with Earth, and you no longer need to pretend to negotiate with Struber and the Hopers, you may think we are done with him and his gang's services. But you are not correct. In fact, I want you to visit him today, and tell him to keep up what he's doing, to foster a more patriotic attitude in the citizens. We have to prepare for a coming war."

"Yes, Sir, Gov. Bright."

"A Governor governs for somebody else. From now on, it is Leader Bright. I am the Leader of the World of Hope."

"Yes, Leader Bright."

After Hope Ldr. Bright disconnected with Sec. Ldr. Morgan, he reflected a bit more on the gladiator fight he had just watched.

"Hmmph, that's it. A little too quick, too. Well, that's how it goes, Clyden, you bum. I don't know how I managed to put up with you all these years when you had been my Security Leader... Rest in peace... or not... All's well that ends well. Except, I lost some good money on you!"

(c) 2012 drk

00107




During the next few days following Fuzzy's fight with X-9, Albert Zoeniga and Nina McCleer had brought their supplies and the tent from the main lab, to the back of the Research and Development building, into the foyer before the back exit. They set up the tent on the floor. Without the fierce winds outside knocking it, there was little difficulty in stabalising it where they set it up.

And Fuzzy waited for them all those days, lingering just outside, beyond the door, often licking his chops or roaring or whining with hunger.
The green blizzard raged with very few intermissions.

Nina and Albert used the heater inside the small tent. The more enclosed the space, the easier to warm that space with the heater.

Nina McCleer warmed a cup of coffee on top of the heater, which continued its operation night and day, taking off the sharp edge of the frigid chill. She went back out the tent to stretch her legs in the foyer, bringing along her coffee.

The middle-aged woman and the young adult always wore multiple layers of coats and jackets to fend off pneumonia. From time to time they took turns reading from Albert's state-unapproved Bible. The pages felt so cold to the touch, so usually they wore gloves even for that.

Albert checked conditions outside via the back door's tiny peep window, which managed to maintain its anti-frost, anti-snow properties. "I can't even see the place where poor X-9 was lying. He's covered under so much snow, and the drifts are moving all around, so that I can't find the mound under which was his body anymore. Poor guy. He was a good robot."

"Yes, he was," Nina McCleer seconded. She looked over their foodstuffs. Some were from the supplies they had brought along for the trip, and some came from the kitchen of the R and D Lab. "If we continue to ration our food as before, with what we found here, we can go for almost a month. Maybe the blizzard'll die down by then, or maybe Fuzzy will leave us- or starve to death."

"Maybe," said Albert, trying to sound optimistic.

Nina chuckled with little humor. "Oh, Bro. Al, you sound so convincing. I guess as convincing as I am. Some days I feel optimistic, and some days... But either way, at least I know Who holds the future, so in the end I expect good things."

"Yup. Some days that's all we can do," agreed Albert.

They sat on chairs set up in the foyer, outside their tent. The chairs had been taken from one of the living quarters of the vanished staff. The two sipped lukewarm coffee. Earlier, Nina had made a hot pot in the kitchen. The kitchen's power, like the rest of the place, did not work, but Albert kindled a fire in the stove- using things from the large mess of tossed about items leftover from Fuzzy's slaughter. Al had had lots to pick from to make the fire. But the coffee cooled quickly when they carried it back to their living quarters in the foyer. Now, as they sat, each contemplated their current predicament.

Albert Zoeniga broke the silence. "When I last looked, that miserable so-called pet appeared to be fast asleep. The snow was falling over him, about an inch thick already. I hope he gets buried down under so much snow, he can't dig his way back out."

More quiet, except for their coffee sipping. Lots of time to think, to silently pray.


A tiny, almost imperceptible tap-tap-tap knocked at the door. It came from the outside. Albert and Nina listened, but neither said anything to the other, and then it stopped. They went back to drinking their coffee. Maybe the door creaked from expandsion and contraction due to the heater on this side of it, and the blizzard on the other side.

Tap-tap-tap.

"Do you hear that, Nina, or is it my imagination?"

"I thought it was mine, or just the door making noise because of the temperature differences it's subjected to."

"Hmm." Again the tapping stopped.

Albert Zoeniga set aside his coffee and got up. He peered once more through the peep window. "Well, it's not Fuzzy. He's still sleeping, but I saw him stir a bit. He knocked off the snow covering him. I think he heard the noise, too. It caught his attention, even in his sleep. Oh, how I wish I had the mini-blaster here, so I could peg him off!"

Albert sat down again. "It was nothing, I guess."

They heard a tiny scratching, a little louder than the tapping.

Both Nina and Albert stood up and jumped over to the peep window to catch a glimpse of whatever it was making the noise.

"Now look at Fuzzy, Al. His ears- well, one, anyway, has shot up. I think he's as curious about the noise as are we."

"He's stretching and turning over on his side. Again the blizzard's snowing all over him. The beast doesn't mind the snow in the least! He hears us talking and assumes we are making the noises. I think he's lost interest in the noise. Unless we are coming outside to him, I don't think he cares what it is."

The hushed tapping again, then silence once more with only their breathing and the snow blowing.

Albert shrugged, baffled.

Nina McCleer tapped back on the door, as if answering, also very quietly.

And the outside tapping replied to her. It sounded like it came from the very bottom of the door and on the other side.

She pushed her face against the peep window pane, trying to get herself at an awkward angle so she could see from that tiny window downward, to see what was at the bottom of the door on the other side. "Nuts! The window's too small to get a decent angle of view."

Albert Zoeniga bent down to the floor, and called softly through the door, "Hello? Is anyone there?"

A low, tinny voice replied, "Of course there is, Mr. Zoeniga. You know Morse code cannot simply just randomly tap on the door without somebody tapping it.”

"X-9!?" Nina cried out joyously.

Albert's face beamed just as much as hers, but he shushed her. "Let's not wake up Fuzzy."

Nina lowered her volume. "X-9, I can't believe you are still alive! We saw Fuzzy rip you to pieces!"

"Well," his tinny voice said, "I am pretty much slag at this point, Mrs. McCleer. Perhaps you can let me in. I have had a lot of time to think while out here. I think I know how to get the power back on inside there. It might help your situation if I can."

Happy and grinning, Albert whispered back, "Oh, X-9, even if you can't turn it on, we'd still be glad to bring you in. We missed you, robot-buddy."

"Likewise... human-buddy. Be careful when you open the door. You must turn the unlocking wheel very slowly, very quietly, so as not to let Fuzzy know-"

"Huh," grunted Albert, "the way that wheel turns without the electric power on, I am pretty sure we will be turning it very, very slowly."

"Yes, of course. Then, once you hear it click, as fast as you can, you and Mrs. McCleer pull open the door, just a hair, and I shall scramble inside. If you are able to help drag me in, so much the better. As Mrs. McCleer has pointed out, Fuzzy has indeed torn me to pieces. But I'm not dead yet. But we must be very fast, because of Fuzzy. However, it may be dangerous for you two to try it, so if you fear you cannot be fast enough, then it is best to let me stay out here. Even if you do not get the power back on, you will not freeze to death, not when you still have the heater which we brought along on our trip."

Albert and Nina didn't waste time discussing it. Instead, as if one person, they both grabbed the wheel in the center of the door and began to tug it, trying to turn it- very slowly and quietly- enough so the crossbar retracted and the door could move and be opened.

Little by little, they moved the wheel. Slowly, slowly. It was indeed hard work to turn it quickly, but they still had to be careful, they had to be sooo slow so as to not make any noise at all.

"Good, good," the robot whispered in his robotic sort of way. "That's good, perfect, keep going, slowly, like that."

Nina grunted, "Ugh... it's not... like we have... much choice." Despite the cold, perspiration beaded her forehead.

The crossbolt retracted just enough and made a slight clicking sound.

Albert and Nina yanked as hard as they could on the door, pulling it open a half inch, a foot, two feet. It moved a little easier than they expected, because, on the other side, X-9's remaining arm- even tho halfway ripped off his body- poked up from the snow and helped push the door.

The squealing hinges brought Fuzzy into an immediate alert state. He jumped up on his four legs and looked over at the hatch.

"Quick, yank me in!" called X-9, popping out from the snow bank, and crawling over the threshold.

Albert Zoeniga reached down and did just that, grabbing X-9 and pulling him the rest of the way inside, as Fuzzy growled and charged across the green drifts toward the slightly open door- and food!

They had no time to assess X-9's terrible state. All they noticed at first were lots of wires hanging out, and the missing leg and arm. Nina and Albert pushed as hard as they could on the door to slam it shut. X-9 lay on the floor, a mangled mess, but still functioning. With his one leg, he, too, shoved at the door. His leg kicked the door a terrific kick, like a mighty piston, and that was enough to clang the door shut in a the startled Fuzzy's face.

Albert and Nina held the door in place while trying to turn the wheel's crossbar back into locking position.

Fuzzy roared on the other side, trying to force his way into the building. He pushed and pushed on the door, straining all the muscles Albert and Nina had, as they tried to keep it shut. The wild animal took a few steps back and rammed his head into the door in mad fury, causing the hatch to shake and move open a fraction of the inch.

“Uh oh-” gasped Nina.

X-9 kicked back at the door with magnificent force, once more pushing the the door back into its place.

The two humans groaned and managed to hold the door closed, still trying to turn the wheel. X-9 crawled under the locking wheel and reached up with his lone arm, halfway detached already from his body, twisting the wheel with the two humans, struggling to move the locking wheel, while Fuzzy kept banging on the door from outside there.

The severely, nearly destroyed robot arm amazingly retained much strength and functionality, and so he added his strength to theirs, all three struggling to turn the wheel.

"Hurry, X-9," urged Albert Zoeniga. "We can't hold this door shut like this for long!"

Nina McCleer added, "Fuzzy's attacking the door a lot harder than before- I think his lack of food doesn't make him any weaker! Instead, he is more desperate and insane with hunger!"

The crossbar clicked quietly as it once again locked in place. As it did so, Fuzzy howled and this time, when he rammed the door, the door screeched and buckled from Fuzzy's crazy actions. But the door held in place. And, once more locked, it would be able to withstand all of Fuzzy's assaults upon it.

Nina and Albert gasped and collapsed from exertion onto the floor beside X-9. "Thank you, Jesus!" Nina managed to wheeze out while she and Albert tried to catch their breath.

Outside, enraged again at having been cheated of his dinner, Fuzzy continued unsuccessfully to try break down the hatch.

As their breathing returned to normal, Albert sighed, "Whew! That sure was close!"

Nina shivered at the thought. "That gave me a few more grey hairs! But we did it, X-9!"

And with the excitement over, the humans slowly rose to their feet, and gazed down at their mechanical friend, studying his damaged body.

The robot's mangled body had been torn and smashed. His battery, half-smashed and leaking, hung out his open, broken chest, held there only by a few frayed cables. All kinds of wires snaked out his ripped-apart body, and where the missing leg and the missing arm should be, there were only stumps of metal rods with more torn wires dangling out the socket holes, sometimes sparking as they contacted each other, depending on how X-9 moved. He tried to put himself in a sitting position against the door, ignoring Fuzzy's thumping on the other side.

Fuzzy paused long enough to shriek out his anger at having lost his opportunity.

X-9 realized, "I should have found the blaster in the snow and brought it in with me. Or that device we used to open the aircar lock. Maybe I could have used it to find the codes for those blasters in the guards' locker room, making them operative"

"Never mind that," said Nina, full of questions. "Tell us how you got here from where you fell, so far away from the door. And how did you keep from being noticed by Fuzzy- or even by us, as you made your way over to the door??"

The robot gave his story. "As Fuzzy and I battled, I saw Fuzzy got the better of me, so I played possum, since I realized that, with the damage he had already inflicted on my body, I did not stand any other chance. I saw you two already were safe inside here, so I had no need to continue the fight. And I just lay there, unmoving, and Fuzzy turned away from me, assuming he had won. I lay there for awhile, letting the snow cover me from Fuzzy's eyes. It did not take long to wait for that to happen in this blizzard. After that, I slowly, very slowly, crawled beneath the snow, hidden out of his sight, burrowing toward this door under the cover of the snow. I made sure to not disturb the snow above me. And I only moved when I no longer heard Fuzzy's pacing, indicating that he slept or at least rested. I wondered if my smashed battery might not split open as I moved, and everything would leak out, and I would lose power before I made it over to the door."

Once again, Albert Zoeniga surveyed all the damage Fuzzy had inflicted on X-9. "Your body's a mess! Does it hurt?"

"No. But my body is almost useless. Getting in here took much of what was left of my body's functionability. Snow collected inside my surviving limbs, and, in here, near the heater, the snow is melting, and shorting out many more circuits. But since my body is ready to be recycled, why not see if we can cannibalize some of the parts which still work, and try to repair the damaged electric power distribution box, so we can get the power back on."

Worried, Nina asked, "What about you, X-9? What'll happen when your body shuts down? With your battery so broken, it can't take long before you run out of power."

“I will be fine, Mrs. McCleer, if you and Albert can successfully remove my head while simultaneously connecting it to my auxiliary battery. The extra battery is not very big, but it is inside my robot body, so that, if my body shuts down, it can still keep my electronic brain from dying. If you can remove it and properly install it in the back of my head, and reconnect it to my brain, without accidentally flushing my brain by inadvertantly crossing the micro positive pathway with the negative, I see no problems.”

Nina asked, “Is it a hard thing to do- I mean, hard for Al and I to do? Is it dangerous for you, if we screw up?”

“It can be dangerous, yes,” admitted X-9.

"Yeah, and you'll be without a body if we do succeed!" said Albert.

"Do not worry. I will be fine. Now, here is what you must do. Bind up my battery somehow, to keep it intact yet, until the operation to remove my head. Carry me over to the power utility room, where there are tools of all sorts in the maintenance area next to the power section. I will guide you through several different kinds of exercises which you will do inside there. These will improve your dexterity skills, so that you will be able to do the job right, and will teach your fingers the correct ways to move. Now, when you actually begin the separation process, you will only have one chance to do the procedure properly, or- Well, you know what will happen. But, if you can do that procedure correctly, then, afterward, you also shall be able to remove my body interface unit without damaging it, and with it, fix the power distribution box for this place

“I know there were spare circuit boards- We saw them, Mr. Zoeniga, when we found Dr. Kitchen's personal screen device. But the damage to the distribution box had also damaged the interface unit, and I did not see any spares among the circuit boards. No, a new interface has to be made from scratch- for a place like this, that kind of interface is not something you can just stock up on, but it must be custom made and booted to the correct range- but the staff was killed by Fuzzy before any of them had a chance to do it. Or, as another option, one can be taken from a robot. Me. I can use alligator clips hooked up to my empty port in my head for where my tracking device is supposed to be, and to the interface when it is installed in the fixed distribution box, and I can find the proper range and get it working. Since I won't need it, because my body is now slag, we can use my interface unit, and adapt it to the distribution box. Then, we can turn the power back on, and so, you two can then wait out this blizzard in warmth and comfort."

Nina McCleer and Albert Zoeniga both nodded agreement with the robot's plan, at the same time, thinking about the fateful task ahead of them. To save their friend, they must risk killing him... Well, one step at a time. First, they must practice, practice, practice, to hone their skills and manual dexterity, as X-9 said..


And, meanwhile, at that very moment, far to the south of the blizzard, in Sparkle City, on the Governor's Hill, in the Governor's House, Gov. Bright considered the state of his plans regarding Earth as he headed toward his office. So much to do, but now he bought more time, at least, since he had warned the Earth authorities that he had made Osmo Martin his hostage. He hated to upset Sheila over it, but this was what life was, after all. He had just left her by her rooms, after she had obeyed him and had taken Osmo Martin his clothes from his former rooms at the Security Agency building.

Xavier Bright's plans moved along as he had expected, but there was one thing that bothered him, one big loose end which made him uncomfortable- the Research and Development Lab.

The blizzard cut off all access to it, and to whatever devices that might be up there. Well, if he and his people could not reach it, neither could anybody else get there- he hoped. If only he were able to somehow set off that self-destruct mechanism!


His call-unit interrupted his reflections. Gov. Xavier Bright grabbed his communications-device. "Yes? Oh, it's you, Warden Ung. Why are you calling? Oh, yes, the gladiator match. In a few minutes? Great; be sure to make a video for me. What? Ha ha, why, yes, I can spare a brief amount of time for that, since you went through all the trouble to make it available for me to watch it live, broadcast to my own personal screen. This should be good! I expect it shall not take long for No. 317 and 248, teaming up against Clyden. Two against one! But Clyden is a seasoned fighter! I don't usually do this, but would you like to make a wager on the outcome?"

Gov. Bright chuckled, despite being aware of the monumental testing that he knew lay ahead in the coming days for the World of Hope. "I think this will be a pleasant diversion. I find myself most eager to see this match!"

(c) 2011 drk

00106



Mita Morgan sat in the parked Security Agency vehicle on the outskirts of the rocketport with her cell phone to her ear.

Security Agent Osmo Martin sat beside the Security Leader, scowling, watching the Hopers milling all about the rocketport- The Hopers were sitting in the middle of landing fields (playing cards), standing atop the idle and waiting freighter rockets, confounding traffic, some hanging around the rocketport lounge and glaring at the Earthers inside- and every one of them answering to Struber. "Sec. Ldr. Morgan, why waste our time negotiating with Struber? You know he's a slug."

Mita Morgan paid him no mind. She spoke on her communications device: "Yes, Sir. Gov. Bright, I know what you are going to say- I know the CDG force is still not in shape, and for that I apologize- Oh, it's not about them? Oh, I see. Yes, Sir."

When the call abruptly terminated, she paused a brief second, considering, then she put away her comm unit. She took out her blaster and aimed it at her companion beside her in the vehicle. "Osmo Martin, you are hereby under arrest."

"Ha ha, you're so funny. Funny, I don't remember you having much of a sense of humor before, Sec. Ldr. Morgan." He kept his eyes on the Hopers, observing them from his seat inside the car and shaking his head in disgust at their antics.

"This isn't a joke. Hand over your blaster- NOW!"

Osmo Martin blinked. "Hey, you're serious, Mita. What gives?"

"Your blaster, Osmo."

He hesitated, then, reluctantly, he gave it to her. "What's this all about?"

She yanked his hands together and cuffed them. "You'll find out. Gov. Bright wants me to bring you to the Governor's House immediately."

Sec. Ldr. Morgan started the vehicle and did a U-turn, heading back into town and then for the Governor's mansion at the edge of Sparkle City, on the Governor's Hill. Perplexed, Osmo offered no resistance, willing to go there, to see the Governor and get to the bottom of this.


Sheila Bright had just left her Uncle's residence, wearing her CDG workout uniform, ready to start another morning of training on the Security Agency's grounds, with the rest of the new volunteers. She got only halfway across the lawn when a Security Agent vehicle coming up the driveway to the mansion's door caught her attention. She saw Mita Morgan get out, which made her mildly curious.

She told herself, I thought Mita would be at the rocketport for those negotiations with Struber again- not that they seem to be doing any good.

Then she noticed Mita open the passenger's door and tug out Osmo Martin, whose hands were cuffed. Mita marched him straight into the Governor's House at blaster point! What? Why?? What did Osmo do?! Sheila forgot about her CDG fitness duty as she dashed back to the mansion for answers.


Meanwhile, Mita brought Osmo to Gov. Bright's office, where Xavier Bright awaited them. Mrs. Kline was gone. She had been sent out for a very long coffee break, something which seemed to happen fairly regularly of late.

Osmo Martin fumed, "What's the idea? You have no reason to treat me like this!"

Sec. Ldr. Mita Morgan kept her blaster trained on Osmo.

Before Gov. Bright had a chance to answer him, Sheila burst into the office. She stared at Osmo Martin, still in cuffs and with the blaster pointed at him. Unbelievable! "Uncle! What is going on here? What is it you think Osmo did?!"

Seeing Sheila, Xavier Bright's usual confidence in all his decisions seemed to wilt a bit. He shifted his weight uneasily, standing there, momentarily thinking what words to use with his niece. Suddenly, his eyes grew cold and focused again. He stood straight, resolved to see this through.

"Sheila, arresting Osmo is not something I wish to do. Osmo is a good man, in his own way. I have grown fond of him. But this is something I must do. For the security of the World of Hope."

Mita Morgan said nothing. She stood alert, watching for any signs of trouble from Osmo.

Sheila protested. "Osmo isn't a threat!"

Osmo Martin also complained, angry. "Gov. Bright, what ridiculous thing are you saying? I have always worked for the good of Hope! You are making a terrible mistake-"

"It is not a mistake, Osmo. You are now my hostage, in order to keep the Earth Leaders in line. I do not want them to send their Army rockets here. I will not allow it."

This flabbergasted Osmo Martin. "A- a hostage?" He had a hard time convincing himself he had heard rightly.

Xavier Bright pointed to the doorway to the hall beyond. "Sec. Ldr. Morgan, take Osmo to the guest suite, the one formerly occupied by the McCleers. There's no reason for Osmo not to be comfortable. The windows do not open, and they are unbreakable- ironically, they are a product of Martinology-, and well above the ground. The walls are made of stone. He should not be able to escape from there."

"Yes, Sir." She motioned to the doorway with her blaster, and said to Osmo, "Let's go."

Osmo grumbled, "You're actually making me a hostage, Gov. Bright! You can't get away with this!"

Sheila found herself speechless.

Before Mita Morgan left with Osmo, the Governor added, "Please see that a guard is posted outside his rooms at all times, Sec. Ldr. Morgan. He must not be allowed to leave. Sheila will bring his clothes from his place at the Security Agency building."

As Mita led Osmo Martin away, Osmo shouted back to Gov. Bright, "You wait- My father won't allow this, once he finds out!"

Gov. Bright corrected Osmo. "He already knows. I told him that you are my hostage, and if Earth dares to send the military, I will execute my hostage."

Sheila Bright found her voice. "No! No, Uncle! This you must not do!!"

Osmo gasped at the Governor's news, startled beyond belief. "What-??"

This threat even shocked Mita Morgan in her tracks. She paused while escorting Osmo away, and Osmo, assessing the situation, considered breaking away, but the Security Leader recovered quickly and poked her blaster into his side. "Osmo, don't try it. Let's go. To the guest suite."

"So, Gov. Bright, Clyden was right about you, after all," Osmo realized, while Mita pushed him along down the hallway with her weapon. "He warned me about trusting you..."

Sheila sniffled, watching Mita take Osmo away down the corridor.

Gov. Xavier Bright did not respond to Osmo. He closed the office door to the hall.

"Uncle Xavier- How can you do this- Why- I don't- I don't understand how you can do such a thing to Osmo!" blubbered Sheila.

Her Uncle's face looked grave, almost unhappy. "No, I don't suppose you can understand. I assure you, though, I do what I do for the World of Hope. Our world. You know me. There is nothing I will not do for our little planet. I do not want to this, but I must. Now, get some of his things, as I had said, and take them to Osmo at his new quarters."

She listened, weeping quietly. Finally, she wiped some tears from her eyes. She nodded, trying to keep her emotions in check. "Y-yes, Uncle..."


When she reached his former rooms at the Security Agency Building, she found she had no way in. The door was locked. But Mita Morgan arrived there shortly afterward. All Mita said was, "I have the key," and with the key, she opened the door for Sheila.

"Mita-" Sheila began.

Mita cut off any discussion. "Sheila, I am sure Gov. Bright knows what he is doing. If I were you, I would not question him so much, and instead trust his judgment more."

"I- I do, but-"

Mita Morgan hastily left, not wanting to talk about it.

It felt weird for Sheila Bright, going through Osmo's things without his permission. She felt like she was violating his privacy. She did not like it. She felt ashamed of it. She selected some of his civilian clothes and put them into one of Osmo's suitcases that he had brought on his journey to Hope, which she found in the closet. Naturally, she left behind his Security Agent uniforms.


When she returned to the Governor's House, and went to the suite, she found a low-level Security Agent guard stationed before the door. He had been told to expect Sheila's coming with the clothes, and to let her into the guest suite. "But first, Miss Bright, I must inspect the case."

Sheila, insulted, asked, "You dare to not trust me, you- you-"

"Just following orders, Ma'm." After quickly looking through the clothes and finding no hidden blasters or anything else controversial, he allowed her to go through the door.

Osmo Martin, inside, understandably did not look very happy. He looked even less happy when he saw Sheila enter. He paced slowly, thoughtfully, back and forth, in front of an easy chair, saying nothing.

Sheila sheepishly set down the suitcase. "I- have some change of clothes for you, Os... Oh, Osmo, I feel so terrible about this! You know, though, my Uncle wouldn't do it, if he didn't believe it was for the good of the World of Hope-"

Osmo Martin stopped pacing. He faced her and growled, "Oh, well, then, that makes it okay. Lock me up, lock you up, threaten us, threaten everybody- It's okay, it's all for the good of the World of Hope!"

"Os-"

"I remember how you encouraged me to cut down on my booze, to mature- and I did, because I found something to believe in, someone who inspired me. Gov. Xavier Bright. A great man! One of the best! Or so I thought. So you told me he was, anyway. What a dope I was! I think my old attitude served me a lot better, I'll tell you that- Look how I ended up when I tried to behave responsibly. What a joke. As if Gov. Bright- and you- act responsibly and decently yourselves! As if taking me hostage is a decent act of a great man. Not the way I see it. And you go along with him! Now my eyes have opened."

"Os-" Sheila choked back tears.

Osmo Martin sat down in a chair, still staring at her. "Yeah, Sheila, you once told me you didn't have many close friends when you were growing up. I can see why, if this is how you treat your friends. Mere pawns, to be used for the good of the World of Hope."

She fell on her knees before him, her eyes pleading for him to understand. "It's not like that, Osmo- He took care of me and my mother, and when my mother died, he took care of me all by himself! I owe him, you see. And he really is a great man. I know he has to make hard choices for the sake of the World of Hope. That comes with being a great leader! You don't really think he will actually hurt you, do you?"

"Yeah, right, you almost convince me. So, what you're saying is, you aren't gonna help me escape, are you?"

"Osmo, don't ask me to do that! I cannot disobey him, not in so important a matter!"

"I see. Hmm. So, tell me, did our friendship mean anything to you at all, Sheila? Did it really mean anything? Is it- was it important? Am I important to you? To let your uncle make me a hostage-" He cut off his own words. Osmo got to his feet and stomped away into another room inside the suite, shutting the door behind himself, in Sheila's face.

Cut to her heart, Sheila put a hand over her mouth to stifle more sobs. She stood again and quietly left the suite, but not before she glanced back at the room into which Osmo had gone, whispering , "Os, I'm sorry, but- I... can't..."

Xavier Bright, waiting just outside the suite, caught her by surprise.

(The guard still remained at his post.)

Xavier Bright saw her tears. "I expected this to be hard for you to do. That's why I had you bring him his clothes, so you can see for yourself how impractical it is for you to visit him in the future. I suggest you heed my advice and do not come here to this suite anymore. No good can come of it."

She kept silent, but walked back down the hall with him. Finally, she inquired, "Will holding Osmo hostage really stop Earth from sending its Army?"

"No. But it will slow them down. Osmo's father is sure to argue against it. He is very influential, and the Council will debate it for many, many days ahead before they can agree. But, in the end, they will do what they want, just like they always did, when it came to sending us those supplies we always needed. Until that time, we shall ready ourselves for that day, when Earth does at last come here to try to take over our planet."

Sheila put together the pieces of the puzzle. "And that is why you formed the Civilian Defense Group, to get the people of Hope in training, so we can fight a war- a war against Earth?"

"Yes, and that is why, behind the scenes, Sec. Ldr. Morgan works with Mr. Struber and the Hopers, to rally the citizens into the right patriotic mindset, so that they are willing to fight for freedom, to battle Earth for control of what little we have here. Earth Leader Bigges knows this as well, so that is why I am forced to make Osmo my hostage. We will fight for our world, Sheila. It may not seem like much of a world to some of our own people, but what we do have, it is ours, and we should not let Earth take it from us!"

Sheia Bright nodded slowly, absorbing this. Then, she forced herself to ask this question. "And, then, if- when Earth does finally send the Army, what then? You won't actually... hurt Osmo, will you?"

He put his arm around her shoulders as they walked away from the suite, and he explained, "Sheila, if a leader makes threats, and is unwilling to carry them out, he will look weak, and he will command no respect from his people. No one will follow him. Nor should anybody follow such a leader."

His niece gaped. "But- but-"

Xavier Bright kissed her forehead. "Sheila, my dear niece, spare yourself some pain, and push it from your mind. You can, with some effort. You are a Bright, after all. Now, I must be going. I have much to do, many things to discuss with Sec. Ldr. Morgan, to prepare for the big day that is coming."

He left her where she stood, heading toward his office once more. So much to do, but now he bought more time, at least. His plans went along as he had expected, but there was one thing that bothered him, one big loose end which made him uncomfortable- the Research and Development Lab. The blizzard cut off access to it, and to whatever newly developed devices that might be there, so if he and his people could not reach it, maybe at least neither could anybody else get there- and get the devices. He hoped. If only he were able to somehow set off that self-destruct mechanism!

(c) drk 2011

00105

Gov. Xavier Bright sat in his inner office going over Security Leader Morgan's report detailing the production speed of blasters- and other things- at the secret factory on the farm grounds. Nice results, but, estimating he had only a very limited time, he preferred to pick up speed on mass production of his secret weapon...

The Governor ignored someone buzzing him over and over, until finally Mrs. Kline called him about it. Her voice came over the intercom. "Earth is on the line, Sir, and insists on speaking with you. They say they have been buzzing your private communications unit and also your screen in your communications room, but that you have not been answering. I have them online here in the office. Shall I patch them through to your personal screen, Gov. Bright?"

"Thank you, Mrs. Kline, but no. I have a more stable connection in the comm room, and we certainly don't want the call to drop out.”

“The usually fast-paced man rose to his feet and sauntered over to the door to his private comm chamber. He leisurely entered and went to the screen. Lazily, he turned it on.

Instead of Doris of Earth greeting him, Earth Leader Arthur Bigges' irate face stared at him with exceptionally bulging eyeballs. Gov. Bright had to force himself not to titter at the sight. Well, he certainly got under Arthur's skin this time.

"Gov. Bright, we've been trying to reach you all day!”

“It is early here, Leader Bigges. If you have been calling me all day, you have been wasting your time, because I was asleep. You are going by Earth time. But anyway, now here I am. However, had I actually received your call, of course I would certainly have taken it, even in the middle of the night. But the sunspots must be interfering again."

Earth Leader Bigges snapped, "No, Gov. Bright, our signal transmitted just fine. We spoke with your communications officers several times, and I am sure they gave you our message. Your scheduled report is very late- by days! And so is the fuel ore shipment!"

"Oh, sorry, my comm officers must have been unable to reach me. After all, I am very busy these days. Anyway, you saw the news." His almost-smirk revealed that the Governor was not sorry in the least. "That little group of Hopers sure are a nuisance, and they are making it difficult for us to send you your ore."

Gunther Martin's face cut in on the screen. "Yes, we saw them. Quite a problem they seem to be making for you." He spoke more calmly than did Arthur Bigges.

Gov. Bright greeted Gunther Martin. "Ah, the voice of reason. The diplomatic Mr. Martin, to balance the... excitable Leader Bigges."

Bigges again. "If I am excitable, it is because the way you are doing things these days gives us here on Earth lots of reasons to get excited!"

Xavier Bright raised a brow. "Oh, really?"

"Yes," said Leader Bigges. "Let's stay on topic. I suppose that this business with the Hopers is why you formed the Civilian Defense Group then, is it?” Once more only his face featured on the screen.

“Well, of course," said the Governor. "We need the CDG to help deal with such situations just like that. You yourself know our almost-crisis situation these days; you even approved travel warnings for those who would like to visit our World of Hope. But the CDG is not only for such problems like the Hopers, but for natural disasters, and for other types of emergencies," he explained. "It’s better to be prepared. We lack much needed equipment to deal with all our troubles, of course, so we do what we can with our volunteer force. Sadly, people are about our only resource, thanks to Earth's stinginess. Fortunately for us here on the World of Hope, we do have so many, many volunteers, all demanding to join the program, faster than we can process them."

Ldr. Bigges appeared skeptical. "Gov. Bright, if you have so little resources, as you always say, then how is it possible that you can have a manufacturing plant near the farms in a converted barn? Where do you get the material for producing?"

Xavier Bright acted confused. He shook his head, as if trying to grasp Bigges' claims. "What are you talking about?”

Bigges held up some photos to the screen for Xavier to look at. They showed the inside of the barn after it had been turned into a factory. But these were early photos, only showing the conveyors and work tables caught in the process of being set up. How it looked pre-operating. "I have my sources, Gov. Bright. Do you deny this is a photo of your secret plant, as it was being designed and set up for production last month?"

"How can it be secret, if you know all about it?" Xavier Bright mocked. Then he became innocent, stating, "I most certainly do deny it. You tell me who is this source of yours, so I can confront my accuser and call him a liar to his face."

Ldr. Bigges set aside the pictures. "So, you are telling me you have not found a way to make cheap weapons, using a plastic-like substance for a weapon's body, and that the substance in some way is made of power-fuel resin, left over from ore processing-"

"Arthur- Leader Bigges, how can that be? Where would I get such a resin, since the fuel ore is processed on Earth? Think about what you are saying, and also get better sources without such a wild imagination."

Clearly unbelieving, Ldr. Bigges glared at him, open mouthed. Then, "Also, Gov. Bright, I notice your Security Agents make no real attempt to do anything at all about these so-called Hopers who have taken over the rocketport. Several Earth people- tourists, business people- are stuck there in the lounge, waiting for the Hopers to clear out from the port, so they can get a rocket back home while others from Earth need to pass through customs and leave the rocketport, to go visit or conduct business on Hope. The Hopers camp there and intimidate them, and so they are afraid to leave and go to hotels for the night, because the Hopers do not want them to go into 'their' town. Meanwhile, the Hopers heap verbal abuse on them, and even spit upon our people. Your rocketport guards do nothing. Your Security Agents cannot even take care of the matter and get our ore shipped to us! But yet you say you are working on the situation! What exactly are you doing to solve the problems?”

The Governor sneered. "Leader Bigges, you know very well, had you sent me the supplies I had repeatedly requested, this whole thing could have been avoided. We would then have the equipment to properly deal with the Hopers problem. Also, had our rightful amount of supplies come, this bunch may not even feel so bitter, because we would have been able to help them meet their basic needs."

"Frankly, Gov. Bright, I think all the work to solve the problems you are actually willing to do, is to give excuses. I think the truth is, you have no desire to deal with the Hopers in any meaningful way to get them under control.”

“I assure you, my Security Leader has been negotiating with them for two days now, and is getting closer to a resolution. Even as we speak, she is once more heading out to the rocketport to begin day three of our talks."

Leader Bigges scoffed, "Oh, knock it off! As if these negotiations are really going anywhere. Just a stalling tactic, for some reason, that's all."

Gov. Bright sighed. "I admit, I find myself sympathetic to their cause and to their complaints. How can I not be? However, I find their methods are counterproductive. What do they hope to accomplish? They seem to abhor the idea of working out all their complaints and problems through the proper channels, within the system. Nevertheless, I cannot be too hasty in my efforts to stop them. I won't risk another Incident. In fact, I am certain the Council of Earth Leaders would not appreciate it if my Security Agents were to storm the Hopers in a grand attempt to get the situation under control, and then if innocent tourists from Earth were hurt in the action... Well, now, you see the results of Earth's oppressive ways toward us who live on the World of Hope. Now we are unable to deliver your shipments of fuel ore in a timely manner, because we have a group of Hopers tying up the rocketport, telling their fellow citizens of the World of Hope to demand that Hope's people be treated fairly, as equals with the citizens of Earth."

Ldr. Bigges slammed his fist onto his desk offscreen, momentarily shaking his cam. "Yes, Gov. Birght, you have an answer for everything, don't you. I am not surprised to hear you agree with the Hopers. You want them to stir up the people into wanting independence from Earth! You want the Hopers to make your population think about the idea of desiring to be free from us. That is how you want to prepare their minds, and you made the CDG in order to prepare their bodies, to get them in shape- All for the day when you openly challenge our authority, and declare Hope's sovereignty rights! Are you actually looking for a- a fight, one you cannot possibly win?!"

Xavier Bright remained calm. "Why, that is so far from the truth, it is paranoid. Such is not the picture. Such thoughts are most unbecoming in you, Leader Bigges."

"Oh?" Bigges nodded his head, resolved. "I am glad, then, to hear you deny my concerns, Gov. Bright. If you speak the truth, then I know you will not mind- especially in light of the way you are unable to do anything about the Hopers- you will not mind at all, then, if we send a platoon of troops who can handle them. And don't kid yourself, they will find a place to land, even if the rocketport is overrun by these Hoper goons. We shall send troops to help you maintain order, to clear out the Hopers from the rocketport, and to unhook the lines with which the Hopers have tied down the rockets, making blast off unsafe. We shall secure the ability of the freighters to launch, so that they can deliver us our ore shipments. That is what will happen once, we send the Earth Army"

Xavier Bright's eyes blazed. "You will do no such thing. The last thing we need here is some military presence to make our lives even more difficult!"

"Oh, but we will indeed send the Army," Leader Bigges insisted. "Not only will we get our ore and re-establish order, but I will see that you are thoroughly investigated, and your governorship will be revoked. You will be sent back to Earth to face criminal charges. When we uncover all your activities, which, I assure you, our investigation shall reveal, I believe we will have ample evidence of outstanding deeds against the government of Earth to take care of you."

Suddenly, Gunther Martin’s face reappeared onscreen. "Hold on a minute, Leader Bigges. Let's not get extreme so hastily-"

Gov. Bright shot back to Bigges, "None of what you propose shall happen, Leader Bigges. None of that. Because if any Army rocket comes through the wormhole, then, I promise you this, the hostage we hold here on Hope is a dead man.”

“What? What hostage?!" Bigges wanted to know. "What are you talking about, man?"

"I am talking about Mr. Martin's son," Xavier Bright replied coldly.

Gunther Martin's face popped out again. He paled. He gasped out, incredulous, "What?! You can't mean that, Gov. Bright!”

"I do!"

"But- but you can't do that!" sputtered Gunther Martin. "You can't threaten Osmo! You cannot make him a hostage! He is an innocent. He is not involved with your dispute with Earth. He- he looks up to you, Gov. Bright. We- we can certainly work out things, our differences, without resorting to unnecessary threats-"

Xavier Bright answered, "Mr. Martin, don't be so naive. Why do you think I invited Osmo here in the first place? Why did I encourage my niece to befriend him? Why did I give him a position in the Security Agency? To keep him close to me, in case I needed leverage with the Council, if we ever got to this point. Well, now that we are at this point, I have no choice but to make Osmo my hostage, to guarantee Earth's cooperation."

Gunther Martin pointed an accusing finger. "You- you--! If you dare harm a hair of his head-"

"I dare, Mr. Martin. I dare. So, if you value young Osmo's life, I suggest you convince Ldr. Bigges to cool down, and I advise that you convince the Council to not send any soldiers here to our World of Hope, contrary to Ldr. Bigges' desire. And, Mr. Martin, I know your skills of negotiating in difficult situations between parties. Please do not come here to the World of Hope to try that with me. It would be a waste of your time. My mind is already set, and the hour of negotiating anything has passed."

While both Gunther Martin and Ldr. Arthur Bigges shouted at him, he flicked off the screen.

Xavier Bright took out his communications device and made a call.

"Sec. Ldr. Morgan, I have an important thing for you to do. No, no need to apologize; this does not involve the CDG and their training. I know they are not very good, but do not worry about them. They are only a backup plan, and a misdirection. No, this is something much more important. Is Osmo Martin with you at this moment? Then, I want you to arrest him immediately, and bring him to the Governor's House without delay."

He put his comm unit away before Sec. Ldr. Morgan had time to ask him any questions about his order.

(c) drk 2012

00104

Young Sheila huffed and puffed as she and her team raced around the track. Although in good shape, she still found the CDG Fitness Leader's workouts taxing. What more those other volunteers who were in poor physical condition?

She pretended to like the workout uniforms, but the truth was, she found them as ugly and as brown as their regular CDG outfits. The CDG recruits trained at the Security Agency's facilities.

So far, her Uncle Xavier had not offered her any position of leadership in the Civilian Defense Group. Certainly not that he frowned on cronyism, but first, he said, he wanted to be sure Sheila could handle the job of just being a volunteer. She knew he was trying to gauge her level of maturity. In times past, she had assisted him in some of his duties, the duller type, because she loved and admired and wanted to help her Uncle, not because of any desire to actually do any of the necessary administration work involved in running the World of Hope. Sheila Bright had never really showed any true initiative and self-discipline for working on a long-term, committed basis to doing what needed to be done. She preferred to simply enjoy good times, like shopping here and there and everywhere- with an occasional trip to the Tourist Trap.

As a CDG volunteer, she pushed herself hard to make her Uncle proud of her.

Jogging toward the end of the last lap, she caught sight of Osmo Martin and Mita Morgan, in their Security Agent garb, leading a line of late adolescents and young adults across the lawns and into the Security Administration building. At least the official Security Agents uniforms looked nice.

One of those youths led by sec. Ldr. Morgan and Agent Martin, dirty and stained, gave off a terrible odor; the bad smell floated all the way over to the track field. Sheila and the others wrinkled their noses.

Fitness Leader Whitmoore looked at his watch read off their running times. "Good, Bright. Once again, you beat everybody in the group."

"Of course," wheezed a heavy-set, middle aged man, a true volunteer, and not a draftee. He smiled and pointed out, "As anyone with decent vision can see, she certainly is in good shape."

She forced a smile at Drummond. He had been trying to capture her attention all day long. Not likely.

Whitmoore told the tired runners, "You all did well. The CDG will be so much the better for having volunteers in such a league as yours." He called for a break because, upon seeing the Security Leader and Security Agent Martin coming with the new "volunteers", he knew he must hurry over to the building to help with their medicals and processing.

The grateful runners went over to the grass to sit down or lay down. Drummond- was that his first name or last? Sheila Bright had no idea. He stayed close to Sheila as she also went to sit for a few minutes."Whoo," he said, "that sure was invigorating. I feel like doing another lap. Care to join me, Miss Bright?"

"Eh, no thanks," she sweetly answered. "I'm a little tired. You go 'head without me." Silently she worried, Maybe I ought not encourage him, before he falls over with a heart attack.

Osmo Martin soon came back out the Security Agency building, passing by CDG Fitness Leader Whitmoore, who now entered through the door Osmo came out of.

Agent Osmo Martin came over to Sheila, since she had a few free minutes. "Mita and I just hunted up several more guys and gals who 'forgot' to volunteer. We found one hiding in a trash pile, and he actually cried when we found him. Pretty sad. I mean, sure, I wouldn't want to be drafted against my will if I didn't want to serve, but to blubber about it..."

Sheila Bright wiped her sweaty face in her shirt. "I'm sure Mita will appoint someone to help him grow up fast."

"Yeah, poor guy. Mita's very mean at times. Sometimes I think she's meaner than Clyden."

"Those were the days, when good ol' Mr. Clyden ran the Security Agency," Sheila kidded. "Seriously, Mita and I just went shopping last night. She seemed okay to me. Maybe blunt and matter-of-fact. Not mean."

"Sheila, you know she's smart enough not to treat you badly. But if Gov. Bright were not you Uncle, who knows then how she would behave toward you. I tried to be patient with her, like you said, until she got used to handling authority- but she's not getting any better. In fact, she's getting worse. You should've seen the way she yanked the crybaby into the van, 'accidentally' banging his head on the door-"

Sheila decided to change from that tired old subject to the other tired old subject. "Well, Osmo, once more I questioned Uncle Xavier about all this CDG stuff. What's it all about? I asked, and he said, It's about the security of the World of Hope. That's all he ever tells me. I trust him, but you can't convince me that he is only worrying about wild animals and outlaws hiding outside Sparkle City."

"Me neither. Something big's coming, and I bet your suspicions are the same as mine."

Meanwhile, after Sec. Ldr. Morgan had handed over the new volunteers to the CDG staff for processing, she went out for some fresh air, with special instructions to the staff to make sure the crybaby got a clean shower before putting on the CDG uniform.

Outside, she joined Sheila and Osmo. "Sheila, how's the training going?"

"Not bad, Mita- excuse me, Sec. Ldr. Morgan."

Mita's Security communications device called. She gave Sheila a pleasant grin. "Sorry. Now it's my turn to ask you to excuse me." She took the call. Her face went from relaxed to serious. "I see. Just what we need- another situation!”

She put away the device and turned back to her friend and to Osmo. "The Hopers, those people that were at the CDG Center before, they are causing problems at the rocketport. I'm heading to the office to watch it on the big screen. Want to come along?"

Not really, thought Osmo Martin, but since Sheila accepted the invitation, he went with the ladies to the office as well.

The cry-baby's stench lingered in the halls of the Security Agency building. Sheila held her nose and waved hurriedly to Mita Morgan’s office and away the smell.

Mita remarked, "I think one of that guy's first duties will be to fumigate this place!"

She took them to Tretl Clyden's former office. Sheila observed how much Mita had improved and tidied up the place. No coffee stains on the floor. A brand new water cooler. And the wall screen gleamed. Not a speck of dust on it.

Sparkle News broadcast the scene at the rocketport live on the screen. A large crowd waved signs and shouted slogans. They ran onto the landing fields. A half dozen split from the main group to dash in front of a rocket ready to blast off, a freight transport full of fuel ore. These six daredevils danced around the rocket, knowing that now, the rocket captain could not order take-off because the people would be hurt from the exhaust.

And there were more malcontents at the rocketport than there had been carrying on at the CDG Center/Tourist Trap when Sheila had signed up. Several close-ups showed the face of the Hopers' leader, that man Struber.

Osmo Martin pointed to the screen. "Hey, that's the guy who picked a fight with me at the Tourist Trap when I first got here. Figures, he's still making trouble. And I can't believe they are copying the tactics used by the illegal house church, making it difficult for the freighters to leave with their loads of ore to take back to Earth."

Sheila Bright stared at Struber’s face when the screen did another closeup. "Ah, I knew I saw the jerk somewhere before!"

“Of course, Sheila. He often does maintenance on Security Agency vehicles.”

The news cameras followed the main body of the mob. They ran over to the few tourists standing in line at customs, having come from an Earth passenger rocket only minutes ago. In times past, there would usually be a lot more tourists coming for a stay on the World of Hope, but lately, with the tensions between Earth and Hope being in the news, and frequent new and updated travel advisories, people were more cautious about coming to this small planet. The tourists gasped as the thugs came over to them, standing across from their line at the customs booth, yelling and spitting at the Earthers.

Rocketport Security Agent guards sprinted across the grounds and stood there on the opposite side of the line of tourists, across from the Hopers, with the line of tourists between their sides. One of the guards shouted orders to the Hopers’ group.

"Disperse! Leave! Go home!"

Struber shouted back, "No, let the Earthers go home!"

Mita Morgan shook her head, watching the screen. She waved her hand at the scenes. "See, Sheila? I know you wonder why we started the Civilian Defense Group. Now you know. It's been created for dealing with just such emergencies as the Hopers might create. The CDG can complement the Security Agency's crowd control, and help in other ways as well."

"What crowd control?" asked Sheila Bright. "Nobody's doing anything to stop the Hopers from acting like they own the rocketport."

The fact of the rocketport guards' passivity amazed Osmo Martin as well. "I can't believe the rocketport guards just hang back and do nothing. Before, we Security Agents chased Al and his friends all over, trying to arrest them-"

The Security Leader nodded, acknowledging their bewilderment. "Yes, that was when ex-Security Leader Clyden ran things. He would think nothing of putting innocent tourists in harm's way. We do things differently now."

This concern for innocent tourists coming from Mita seemed to be not quite genuine. Osmo wished she had shown such compassion when it came to squealing about where the illegal church had been hiding. "I guess it is better to be careful so as to not have anything like another Incident, like what happened to Al's friends, including our old schoolmate, Jane." He hoped the subtle dig found its mark.

Mita Morgan turned off the screen. "Speaking of Al- What ever became of your friend? Did he return to Earth?"

Osmo shrugged. "Beats me. I didn't see or hear from him since that night he escaped from the incarceration van."

"Yes, I know you didn't. I already checked that out," said Mita.

He glared at her. "What do you mean, you already checked it out? Did you spy on me or something like that?”

Unembarrassed, Mita freely admitted, "Of course I do. If it concerns the security of Hope, why wouldn't I? But you check out okay."

"Oh, that's a relief," Osmo Martin sarcastically answered.

Stunned and indignant, Sheila demanded, "And did you spy on me, too, when Osmo and I were together?"

Mita casually shook her head. "Oh, no, Sheila, that wouldn't be right. You are Gov. Bright's niece, for crying out loud. Besides that, you are also my friend. No, I trust you, Sheila."

Osmo gave Mita a dirty look. "It's okay to spy on me, though, is it?"

Mita checked her watch. "Break's over, guys. Sheila, you better get back with the other CDG members who are in training. I don't want to be the reason for you setting a bad example for the other volunteers. Fitness Leader Whitmoore must be done helping process the newbies by now."

As Sheila left the office, Mita said to Osmo, "Agent Martin, we also should be going.”

“We just got back from a whole morning of hunting down those recruits who neglected to volunteer," Osmo pointed out. "I missed both breakfast and now lunch!"

Mita Morgan pulled a box of candy chews from a pocket and tossed it to him."Bon Apetit. Now let's get going. You saw the news. We should be there at the rocketport, in case the guards need help. We can help them keep the situation under control so the Hopers don't become nasty."

Tired, hungry, and disgusted, Osmo Martin sighed with resignation and followed Sec. Ldr. Mita Morgan out, shoving a handful of chews in his mouth as he closed the door behind them.

(c) drk 2012