00098

Gov. Bright and Security Leader Morgan ironed out the details in the Governor's private office, such as which CDG Centers should be the first to open on the morrow, which one Sheila should report to in order to volunteer, and how to deal with those who refused to volunteer.

Gov. Bright dismissed his Security Leader with the agreement that both should think further on that last item.

As Xavier Bright considered the matter in the solitude of his inner office, an unexpected call on his communications device derailed his thoughts. He frowned, seeing who called. Now why should Warden Ung call from the mines?

Well, whatever reason, he decided to answer it, since already his mind had been sidetracked.

First of all, Warden Ung wanted to congratulate Gov. Bright over his proposed plan for the Civilian Defense Group. The Warden had watched the short broadcast, of course. "Your announcement is a wonderful idea, and the only logical step to take, Sir, considering those threats you mentioned.”

“Yes, certainly it is, Warden Ung," agreed Gov. Xavier Bright. "But surely you did not call merely to tell me this."

"No, Gov. Bright. You see, Sir, when my duty rotation came up again, and I arrived here at the mines last week, I inherited a somewhat unusual problem. Ordinarily, I would not bother anyone about it, and instead I would solve it myself. I am the Warden, after all. And I know how to take care of the matter, too, but, to be on the safe side, I decided to ask you, although I am loathe to take up your valuable time, Sir.”

“Warden Ung, why, may I ask, do you not just take up the matter with Sec. Ldr. Morgan? That would be the proper procedure, save in extreme cases."

"Yes, Sit, it is, and I apologize, but I thought it best to ask you- And, it is not because she is new to the job, or that I don't trust her judgment, I assure you, Gov. Bright. I know she is the best person available, obviously, since you selected her. However, this is such a delicate matter, I believe it is more appropriate to discuss it with you yourself, Gov. Bright.”

“Oh? Do tell, then, Warden Ung."

"Sir, because of the situation, I've been reading the file of Miner No. 317. The previous Warden had left me a note regarding him, in fact."

"What about No. 317?"

"I am sure you recall, recently there had been some question as to No. 317's actual identity before he became a Digger. Security Agent Martin had at one time believed No. 317 to be Mr. George McCleer, who was supposed to be lost in a cave-in. The cave-in had been searched for his body, but the search given up, per the file. An additional note, later entered into the file, mentions Agent Martin suspected that former Sec. Ldr. Clyden had secretly found Mr. McCleer still alive, and he deliberately made him a miner, in order to darken your future, once it came out who No. 317 really was-"

"-or wasn't," Gov. Bright chuckled. "Warden Ung, isn't it in your file that I already checked out No. 317, and he indeed is merely a criminal, like all the other miners. No. 317 really does deserve to be there."

"Yes, Sir. So states the file. However, the previous Warden's note, Sir, if you'll forgive me, worries that- should your conclusion regarding No. 317 not being Mr. McCleer turn out incorrect, then, if No. 317 became harmed in any unnecessary way- Mind you, I don't mean, like, if he has an accident. After all, he is our expert pure fuel digger, an expert at it, according to the file. A very hazardous task..."

Gov. Bright's patience began to dissipate. "Warden Ung, does this note suggest how I could be mistaken, since I checked the records so thoroughly?”

“Yes, Gov. Bright. The note says ex-Sec. Ldr. Clyden might have so severely fudged the records of the miners, Sir, and, um, because of your busy schedule, per the previous Warden’s note, Sir- Mind you, Sir, these are his words, not mine.- He feels, since the former Security Leader managed to deceive all of us, including you, Sir- I am not saying this; it was the previous Warden- no doubt, because you have so much to do, being the Leader of our world, Sir, that you didn’t catch onto his corruption- My predecessor feared that Mr. Clyden may have also succeeded in fooling you about Mr. McCleer being a miner, as well. What if, according to the note, the miner's records have been so well altered, the fraud becomes almost impossible to detect- In fact, the previous Warden thinks you yourself also thought about that possibility-"

"Okay, Mr. Ung. I think I understand your point, despite your indirect discussion regarding the matter. Tell me if I understand you. Your predecessor worried Mr. Clyden had so confused the records, that it was impossible for me to determine whether No. 317 is really who the record says he is, or is he, instead, actually George McCleer. Let's assume, for the sake of progressing to your main point, that your predecessor's concern has merit. What is the actual problem, then?"

"Just this, Sir. We have a new miner here, No. 360-"

"Isn't 360 that miserable Clyden?"

"Yes, Gov. Bright. No. 360 continues to harass and pick fights with No. 317, Sir, and he is determined to fight 317 because, Sir, No. 360 says No. 317 is an ingrate, a poor excuse for a miner, and a plain old jerk, since 317 fails to love you properly, Sir, like all the other miners do. This infuriates No. 360, so he wants a gladiator match with him, with No. 317.”

Gov. Xavier Bright listened in stunned silence. Finally, he broke out into mirthful laughter. "You're kidding! Clyden- No. 360 said that?!"

"All true, Sir."

"Ha ha ha, that is so great! Sounds like Clyden is at last thinking sensibly. So, what is wrong with letting them have a gladiator match?"

"Well, um, I guess if you're okay with it, then so am I. I was worried, because No. 360, while he might not remember his former identity in his head, his body will still reflexively and easily beat up No. 317. I worried that, if No. 317 were really... Well, okay, good, then. But there's something else I want to mention-"

"Which is...?"

"No. 317 is really good at digging out the pure fuel rocks. I admit he is a trouble-maker, according to his file. But, thanks to his skill, the number of miners lost digging out pure fuel has gone down. That means production- because we have more miners, Sir- has gone up. I almost hate to risk losing No. 317. That's my point of view, Sir, for what it's worth.”

Gov. Bright became bored, talking with Warden Ung. He yawned into his cell phone. "Oh, excuse me. Warden Ung, are you telling me that you worry No. 360 may kill No. 317? Miners are very hard to kill, and besides, I know you have another miner there who also is an expert at digging out the pure fuel."

"Yes, Sir. It isn't impossible, though, to kill miners. And, you see, that's the other thing, Sir. That other miner, No. 248- He's the other miner who digs out the pure fuel. But, almost the next day after he started his campaign against 317, Sec. Ldr. Clyden- that is, No. 360 took to hunting for 248 as well. He began attacking 248 whenever he got the chance, for the same reason he attacks No. 317. And he is so indignant with both of them, he wants to be able to fight both of them in the gladiator pit- at the same time! Can you imagine that- at the same time! He wants to fight both of our expert pure fuel rock diggers."

"Hmm. Clyden always did like to mix it up a bit, and he always liked a challenge when it came to a boxing match.”

“Like No. 317, No. 248 is on a constant watch assignment. Yet, 360 constantly finds 248's work detail, and manages to get himself over there to fight him for his lack of decency in not loving you enough."

"Heh heh. Wow. I assume you told No. 360 he must stop with such counter-productive behaviour."

"Yeah, but it's like he can't help himself. A real nuisance. I felt like tossing him to the Eaters, to be honest, for insubordination. But that'd send the wrong message to the rest of the miners. They might think there could be such a thing as loving the Governor too much."

"We can't have that."

"As it is, news of No. 360's demands has spread. The other Diggers wonder why we hold back and do not allow 360 to have his way. I thought of just pitting him against No. 248, but then everyone would wonder, Why not also against No. 317? I didn't want them to think it was okay for some miners to hold such a miserable attitude and not be reprimanded or anything.”

“Truthfully, I don't care much what a miner thinks, Warden Ung, as long as he keeps up his production and inspires other miners to do likewise. I already told you it is okay to put No. 317 into a gladiator match. If you are worried about losing some good diggers of pure fuel, then simply do as Clyden asks, and put 317 and 248 in the pit, both at the same time, against No. 360. Surely, the two of them will team up and protect each other. How much harm can even a seasoned fighter like Clyden do against a pair of Diggers fighting him at the same time? And then Clyden will be happy, because he can finally get the fighting desire out of his system. It's win-win, because, at the same time, 317 and 248 will teach 360 a lesson."

"Yes, Sir. Even some of 360's Team Leaders suggest the same thing. And quite a few miners also begged to be able to be No. 360's gladiator partner if he fights the two of them simultaneously, to even out the match. No. 360 said he didn't need any help against those two misfits... Okay, Sir, I shall schedule a fight, then, the two against one- and all of them trouble-makers!”

“Now, can I please get back to some serious work, Warden Ung? Are you done with all your problems?"

"Yes, Sir. Sorry for the interruption, Sir. It's been a long time since we had a decent gladiator match! The miners will love it!"

"Good. One more thing, Warden Ung-"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Be sure to take videos, and send me a copy. I think a little entertainment for a man in my position will be good, instead of me only dealing with problem after problem these days."

"You got it, Sir!”

(c) drk 2012

00097

The word spread quickly about the wild herd attack, and just as quickly that Gov. Xavier Bright planned a statement that evening addressing the matter, and how to deal with it. His publicists made clear it was to be a very important announcement, and advised every citizen to watch.

Gov. Bright gave his statement from the front lawn of the Governor's House. All three stations from the World of Hope carried the event live, of course, and several news reporters from Earth covered it as well. Everybody was curious about it. Some watched it on their own home screens, others invited their neighbors who could not afford a screens to come over and watch with them. And still others watched in coffee shops or bars or on public screens. But almost all the citizens watched.

Security Agents stood among the group of reporters on the Governor's lawn, along with Sheila Bright and Osmo Martin, in his civilian clothes. Gov. Bright stood before a portable display screen set up on the grass. By his side, once more, Security Leader Mita Morgan wore a blank, poker face. As usual, she wore her Security Leader uniform. Osmo wondered, Does Mita sleep in that uniform, too?”

On the display screen looped several scenes of the Security Agents chasing the tiny buffalo, culled from the cameras of several tourists who kept their cameras running and recording during the event of the herd attack- they had originally been taping Mrs. Rubble's lecture, and then caught the ensuing chaos that had interrupted her presentation.

Gov. Bright spoke to the reporters and their broadcasting equipment and to his mass audience all over Sparkle City. "I know you have all heard how, this morning, the Hope Memorial Park had been overrun with a pack of mini-buffalo. Thankfully, the injuries to the tourists were minimal. Unfortunately, however, today's emergency simply illustrates a difficult problem that Sec. Ldr. Morgan has been following since even the time before I appointed her Security Leader. We knew the problem had potential to become a crisis, and now, our concerns are shown to be justified."

To make his point, the Governor stepped to the side, giving an unobstructed view of the screen in back of him with the continual play showing the attacking creatures and the frantic tourists. The volume remained low, but the screams and gasps could still be heard as the buffalo charged the tourists, their furry heads down, the tiny sharp points of their horns aimed at the tourists' ankles. Mixed with these shots were choppy segments displaying the Security Agents chasing the buffalo about, and there were two brief clips showing Osmo Martin and Sheila Bright and Dr. Veg Horle chasing away the bison.

Gov. Bright resumed his place in front of the screen, taking the main focus again of the news cameras. "What happened today might be only one of many such events in the near future. We have reports of outlaws and renegades from Earth hiding outside the city limits, in the wild dessert beyond us. As we all now know, our former Security Leader allowed wanted criminals to slip through the fingers of the authorities. No doubt money exchanged hands, and so he turned a blind eye to the situation. This made it possible for the felons to make homes in the unpatrolled wilderness, and to meet up with and team up with others of like-minded criminal dispositions. From their hide-outs in the wilds, now, bands of raiders can come, stealing from some of our government storage units and warehouses, as well as from our farms. Many of those are criminals from Earth, escaping justice. Naturally, the outlaws are not above attacking their fellow Earthers- We all heard of tourists from Earth on our fine planet who were robbed on their way to one of our many fine resorts outside of Sparkle City, robbed by the gangsters from their own world, Earth. I guess the travel warnings Earth issued were right, but we are will soon master the problem.”

Gov. Bright's face became gravely sober. "It is time for all of us to face facts, Citizens of the World of Hope. Within our own city streets, crime and corruption are on the rise. This is why I lost patience with the former Security Leader. When he realized I would no longer make allowances, despite our friendship of many years, for his, ahem, shall we kindly only say laxity, and not use the word graft or other similar words to describe him, then Sec. Ldr. Clyden- Well, no sense in rehashing how he tried to do me harm, because he knew I meant to stop him in his tracks from ruining our law and order and our reason for our pride in our World of Hope."

Gov. Bright paused, letting his words sink in. Then, "His old way of doing things has come to an end. The tide of decadence he let swell and flood over our fair city must be stopped, no, must be turned back. We must save our city, our world. I think our new Security Leader can do just that. And we will need your help and co-operation as well, Citizens of Hope, if we are to preserve that which we value. Sec. Ldr. Morgan has some ideas, good ideas and plans, on just how to do that. Suggestions to which I give my whole-hearted approval. Now I shall let Sec. Ldr. Morgan tell you those ideas herself."

Gov. Bright stepped back, and Sec. Ldr. Morgan took over. She said:

"People of Sparkle City, Citizens of the World of Hope, we are forming a new group to help monitor and preserve the peace. The captains of this group shall report directly to me. This group shall be composed of willing civilian volunteers, those who love our way of life and want to protect it. The name of the organization is the Civilian Defense Group. The CDG. CDG centers will be set up at diverse places throughout our entire city, distributed to enough spots so that no locality does not have a CDG center within easy walking distance. Because of that, all citizens will be able to report to the CDG any problems which concern the public health and society's welfare, whether safety hazards which might create disasters, or whether the neighborhood crime hotspot, or whether some scofflaw who does not respect our fine city's rules and regulations. Whatever concerns the people of the World of Hope. From there, the CDG will investigate and take the actions necessary to deal with the situations, as each problem presents itself. Our focus will be on the good of Sparkle City and the World of Hope."

Mita Morgan pressed the remote for the display screen behind her, and the loop showing the buffalo trouble stopped. In its place, the screen displayed two computer-generated youths, a young man and a young woman, each dressed in brown outfits similar to the Security Agent uniforms. Sec. Ldr. Mita Morgan stepped out of the way so they all could see.

"This is how you will recognize a member of the Civilian Defense Group. This is the official uniform of the CDG. Anyone in good physical condition and able can join the CDG and is welcome to apply. In fact, if you meet those qualifications, you are encouraged to join. After a week or two of crash course training, the volunteer shall be ready for duty, complementing the duties and work of the Security Agency.”

As did her superior before her during his speech, she also paused, allowing the public and the news representatives to assimilate the speech.

"How many of you like litter? None? Well, then, if you see someone who is a litterbug, soon you will be able to report whoever is dirtying or defacing our beloved Sparkle City to the CDG. Remember how the posters of Gov Bright had been defaced by that illegal fanatical movement? Now that the posters have been replaced, we say, No more. No more vandalism! When you see something like that, all you will need to do is, walk to a nearby CDG center. You can even call, if you have access to a phone, but, as we all know, telecommunications are, at best, problematic on this planet. Vandalism, unapproved wall posters, if something causes offense to our city- you now have an easy way to report it anonymously."

She brought up a new scene on the screen, which exhibited a civilian walking into a building with a sign above the door in huge letters identifying the place as a “CDG Center”. The camera followed the man as he headed toward a big desk and spoke with a CDG Captain on duty at the desk. The man could be heard to complain of a problem down the street where he lived, drugged people loitered outside their homes. The Captain nodded and assured him the CDG “will take care of it, Sir!”

The Security Leader smiled with satisfaction, observing everybody’s attention. "From now on, criminals cannot carry on and think they will not be punished."

Next, the computer-generated scene showed a scruffy looking, shifty-eyed man in handcuffs, being pushed into a Security Agency van.

"Beware, you who wish to break the law, if you dare!"

Mita Morgan went back to standing in front of the screen, which returned to the shots taken of the buffalo attack. “Once the CDG is in operation, the CDG and the Security Agents shall take day hikes through the surrounding wilderness bordering Sparkle City, keeping the wild animals in check whenever we run across them. The CDG shall patrol inside the city, also, along with the Security Agents, thereby extending the long arm of the law because, contrary to public belief, the Security Agents cannot be at all places at all times."

Again smiling, Sec. Ldr. Morgan assured the listeners, far and near, "My idea will work. It can't go wrong. You, citizens, will make it work, because you will volunteer your help and services. If you are a youth between the ages of sixteen and twenty-four and you are enrolled in college, then, to be able to continue your studies, you must volunteer. If you are young and employed, if you want to stay at your job, you will need to volunteer. In short, if you are young, eating, and breathing, you must volunteer. You cannot just take from society. Now you have the opportunity to return something to society. I know you will be glad for the chance to pay back the world which has nurtured you. And therein lies our success. The numbers alone will guarantee against failure. Couple those numbers with the loyalty and love we all have for Sparkle City and for the World of Hope, and now you know we can do nothing else but succeed!"

Almost all the attendants at the announcement meeting gasped. Someone blurted out, "But that's a draft!" The microphones picked it up, and all across Sparkle City- in private homes, in public squares, in the college rec hall, in night clubs- the word was repeated with stunned amazement.

Some of the listening youths complained. "How can it be voluntary if there's no choice?" "How can she say we will serve, just like that, with no discussion or legislation?" "Ssh, don't say too much, you know what could happen to you!"

Sec. Ldr. Morgan went on. "Do not worry about your college or work schedules conflicting with your training and duty times, which will be twenty hours a week. I can assure you, there will be no conflict. Your professors and your employers will be more than happy to work with you on your schedules, so that you lose nothing while you serve your community. In advance, I thank you all for volunteering and serving."

Osmo Martin and Sheila Bright exchanged surprised looks as they stood there with the newsfolk on the front lawn. Is this the change Mita had talked about earlier in the day?

Gov. Bright once more stood with Mita Morgan. He said, "Sec. Ldr. Morgan, allow me to clarify one point, if I may. I would like to say, If you are already a Security Agent, serving us, naturally you are exempt from volunteering."

Sec. Ldr. Morgan nodded. "Yes, Sir, that is a very important point, since the Agents already are serving.”

The Governor smiled. Then, he faced the cameras and said, "At first, all this volunteering may seem hard for some of you to accept. However, once you think through the matter, you will readily agree, it is the best way to deal with some of the growing problems on our world. And, just for the record- Not that anyone has asked me yet, and not that I have to explain myself to you in every matter- but when Sec. Ldr. Morgan says all youths within the age groups between sixteen and twenty-four must volunteer, she really does mean ALL. Even my own niece, Sheila Bright, will be volunteering- tomorrow, in fact. And she will be happy to do it, I might add. That is all I have to say, for now. No questions, please, at this time."

Sheila frowned. She whispered to Osmo Martin, "Of course I will volunteer tomorrow, but how does Uncle Xavier know I will be happy about it? You and I had plans to make up for our ruined outing that the buffalo spoiled! Uncle should have given me notice, so I could arrange a more convenient time for volunteering!”

“Another date on hold. Osmo Martin sighed. "Lately, it's getting harder and harder for us to get together for some decent time with each other. Just you and me."

The news agents rushed off, some to file their commentaries, others to repeat and elaborate on the news and its ramifications. The Hope reporters, of course, would laud this news and give hearty approval and write praising articles upon the subject, but they had to hurry and write their pieces and get it done, to get the approval from the Hope News Board in time for inclusion in the next edition. Some of the news people moved further down the lawn and did live fact-reporting right there on the spot. Unlike commentaries or reports after the fact, the needed approval for live fact-reporting was more flexible and the approval often assumed already from the News Board. However, with more assumed approval came greater responsibility to not add to the facts in a way which the Hope News Board would deem anti-Hope propaganda. Everybody knew his and her limits.

Gov. Bright and Sec. Ldr. Morgan moved out of range of the cameras and the microphones. The two conversed in low voices, until Sheila Bright came over, bringing Osmo Martin along, and joined them.

"What's this all about, Uncle Xavier? Why are you forming this Civilian Defense Group, and why are you drafting all the young people into it?"

Gov. Bright said to Mita Morgan, "If you will excuse us, please-“

Mita Morgan took the hint and courteously left, allowing him to be alone with Sheila and Osmo.

“Uncle, just what is this all about? It doesn't make sense."

He put his arm around her shoulder. "My dear niece, let me just say, I think the next few weeks shall be very challenging to us who live on the World of Hope. I want us to be ready."

"Ready for what, Uncle? A herd of wild buffalo? Some band of outlaws in the dessert? Isn't this a bit too much?"

He patted her shoulder affectionately. "Sheila, you may not understand this draft, and some of the things Sec. Ldr. Morgan says and does may concern you, but I believe it is necessary. It really is for the good of the World of Hope. Soon, you will realize it, too, and then I won't need to explain anything to you."

Xavier Bright nodded a silent acknowledgement of his presence to Osmo Martin, and then the Governor walked away. Two news reporters saw him now alone and tried to get answers from him, but he only smiled cordially and went into the mansion, closing the door on the reporters and their questions.

Perplexed, Sheila Bright turned to Osmo. "I don't get it. What's your take on this?"

Osmo Martin shrugged. “It's almost as if Gov. Bright and Mita are preparing for a war."

This confused Sheila more yet. "But, with who?!"

Inside the Governor's House, Mita Morgan awaited Gov. Bright in his outer office. Mrs. Kline was gone for the day. Mita reported, "The blizzard has not let up."

Gov. Bright grumbled, "How I wish I could get to the R and D Lab and see what they have developed for me. I am sure there are new things there which would benefit us greatly, and which we could manufacture in large quantities, while there is still time to manufacture them! Before the time comes, which I know is coming!"

"How much time do you think is left before it starts, Gov. Bright?"

"Not nearly as much as I would like."

(c) drk 2012

00096

Osmo Martin cashed in his picnic-in-the-park raincheck with Sheila. The cozy sun on the grass warmed him inside. His date spread a blanket on the lawn and set her basket upon it. When she began to unload the food, Omso rubbed his hands together, practically drooling.

Blocks preserving the wreckage of the Peace Lab were placed all about Hope Memorial Park's beautiful lawns and flower beds. In the center of the park was the main park plaza, and in the center of the plaza, in a ring of arranged preservation blocks, Mrs. Rubble stood and explained to the tourists about the accident of the Peace Lab, how the park had been named after Dr. Hope Martin, the hero, and the significance of the wreckage which was saved in the blocks that were all about the park. At the base of each block, some pretty flowers bloomed, a welcome addition to the sombre preservation cubes and to the park itself. As the park orator gave her usual speech, a few of the tourists wandered off, listening, but striking out on their own to explore the landmark.

Mrs. Rubble repeated the story every day, but now, with the pretty new red flowers, their fragrance filling the park, she once again enjoyed her job.

Sheila Bright watched the tourists, then she turned back to her picnic and her friend Osmo Martin. Jokingly, she told Osmo, "I made all this good food in order to take your mind off your annoying supervisor."

Osmo stuck his finger down his throat and gagged. "Yeah, and it almost worked, too, until you had to bring her up! I think I just lost my appetite. I complained to Gov. Bright about her lead-heavy hand in collecting from the tax delinquents, but he just dismissed it, telling me, like you did, to give her time, that she is just eager and excited over her new job. Besides, he told me, she has some very important things to worry about, which may create stress for her. He says she is worried about the safety of the people of Sparkle City because of the danger posed from the wild animals and renegades in the dessert beyond."

Sheila giggled. "Oops, sorry for reminding you of her, then."

"Sure you are. Quit toying with me!" Osmo Martin laughed. "Seriously, though, I was unaware that there was a problem with those critters- both two-legged and four-legged- out in the wilds causing such concern until the Governor told us about it at that meeting. And just before he told us, the travel warnings from Earth hinted there might be some trouble- Suddenly, now, it seems as if it has become a crisis. It doesn't make sense. First, hardly no news at all about that stuff, then, suddenly, it's a terrible emergency that needs attention immediately. The good news, anyway, is that Security Leader Morgan is diligently working on the matter, and will soon have it under control."

Sheila Bright chuckled some more, unsure where Osmo's sarcasm began and ended sometimes. "Well, then, Os, I guess we can rest at night, knowing our safety is in good hands."

An attractive, young tourist, barely older than Osmo Martin, passed by in their vicinity, walking over to a nearby block of enclosed space lab debris, to study the twisted, smashed fragment sealed inside. She glanced over at the two picnickers she caught out of the corner of her eye, and then she brightened, recognizing one of them. "You're Osmo Martin, Dr. Hope Martin's son, aren't you?"

Osmo smiled with his usual friendliness. "Guilty. How did you know? I hope you don't still remember the fire at Earth Leader Bigges' place?''

Sheila and the other woman laughed. The tourist admitted, "Yes, I do. But not only that. When I was in med school, I followed your antics as a diversion from all my workload. I know you were only a schoolboy back then, but, ahem, I think I developed a crush on you at the time."

"Woo-ooo-ooo," kidded Sheila. "You are so irrsesitible."

Osmo nodded and answered, "Hey, it's understandable, Miss...?”

The tourist became aware of her manners. "Oh, I'm sorry. I did not mean to intrude- You two go on with your picnic, and I will just mosey on back over to Mrs. Rubble the tour guide, to hear the rest of the story."

Osmo Martin, flattered, replied, "Oh, that's okay. We don't mind. We came here to celebrate this nice day with a nice picnic Sheila made- Oh, I did not introduce her yet, sorry. This is Sheila Bright, Gov. Bright's very attractive niece."

Sheila smiled. "Hi.”

The tourist smiled back. "Nice to meet you. I'm Veg Hoyle. Nice little world you have here, Miss Bright."

"Thanks. We like it. I am glad to see the tourists still come here, even if their numbers are not as big as before the travel advisory."

Veg Hoyle replied, "I know the World of Hope has its share of problems; so does Earth. I know unfortunate disasters, like the Incident, can happen on either world. But I try to see the good in things, not the bad. I try to be a positive person. I always wanted to go space traveling, and especially through a wormhole, and so, well, here I am."

"Anyway, don't believe all those rumors you might hear about this place," Osmo Martin said. “It's a bit exaggerated.”

"How long do you plan to stay? The Tourist Bureau can help you plan your vacation, so you get the most fun out of your time here,” suggested Sheila.

  

"I expect to go back to Earth in three weeks time. My family insisted I take a break for once, since I went straight from college into my internship, and then set up my practice immediately thereafter."

Sheila remarked, "Your practice? Are you a doctor? No offense, but you're awfully young for a doctor."

A commotion amongst the other tourists, those still gathered in the plaza with Mrs. Rubble, diverted the attention of the three by the picnic setting, who, as if one, all glanced over there toward the noise the same time.

"What the-" Osmo muttered.

A herd of mini-buffalo stampeded across the park from the direction of the wildlands, swarming around the tourists. The tiny creatures ran at their legs and gored their ankles and shins with their tiny buffalo horns. Yelling in pain, the people stomped or kicked at the tiny, rodent-sized genetic marvels. That failed to deter the stampede, though. The aggressive creatures kept coming back and attacking them, with more joining them, flowing from the same direction.

Dr. Veg Hoyle, wide-eyed, said, "I thought those mini-buffalo things were only on farms."

Osmo hopped to his feet. He pulled his Security Agency communications unit from his pocket. To the Doctor, he said, "Gov. Bright had said how the beasts in the wilds were building up in numbers. I guess they have officially become a problem." He talked on his comm unit, "This is Agent Martin. You won't believe this, but Hope Memorial Park is overrun with buffalo! That's right, mini-buffalo! No, thankfully, I don't see any flying buffalo in this herd!"

"Well, the Travel Department on Earth did warn us, I guess," said Veg Hoyle.

Sheila Bright said, “This is the first time our city has been attacked by wild animals like this. At least, the first time for many, many years.”

Veg Hoyle nodded. "I hope it's also the last time for awhile. I think those tourists are having a hard time getting rid of the pests!”

Osmo Martin yanked up the picnic blanket- "Save the food!" he shouted- and he ran toward the main concentration of the attacking herd, holding the blanket overhead. When he reached the horde, he hollered and whooped at them as he swatted them aside with the blanket, trying to break up the herd and chase them away from the startled and disgruntled and frightened- and wounded- tourists, who continued their battle against their diminutive attackers.

Some of the tourists tried to climb to the top of the preservation cubes, following the example of Mrs. Rubble. Others just screamed and ran. One man hopped about on one foot, holding his other leg's bleeding shin. He tripped and fell smack into the midst of the herd. They ran right over him, leaving tiny hoofprints all over his clothes, but not doing much else, except crushing his pride.

A handful of the tourist Earthers saw Osmo's attempts to break up the herd, and joined in, swinging backpacks and lunchboxes at the creatures. Sheila and Veg also helped in the effort.

In less than a minute since Security Agent Osmo Martin had placed the call, the Security Agents who were patrolling in and near the park, arrived on the scene. They shouted for the tourists to stand aside, and as the tourists tried to obey, the Agents took out their weapons and blasted buffalo here and there, zapping away until they finally got the attention of the rest of the berserk bison. The herd scattered and ran from the tourists and the basters, fleeing from the park, scared out of their wild fits. The Agents had made short work of the buffalo attack.

After the excitement subsided, Veg Hoyle helped the Security Agents tend to the wounded ankles of the tourists. She assured the more upset of them, "Don't worry, you'll be fine."

Sheila watched Dr. Hoyle at work. Veg Hoyle said to her, "If my family could only see me now. This isn't the relaxation they had in mind for me.”

When Sec. Ldr. Morgan showed up, she nodded approvingly, seeing that the buffalo pack had been dispersed. "Good work, Security Agents. It's good you were here, Agent Martin, and you thought quickly and acted quickly, and called in the threat quickly. I appreciate that in my Security Agents."

Osmo Martin forced himself to thank Mita Morgan for the compliment. He also said, "It's strange that such a large herd managed to slip past the robots guarding the perimeter of Sparkle City.”

Sec. Ldr. Mita Morgan sighed. "Well, you know, most robots are not very smart. Apparently, even these dumb animals can outwit them. A new low for robot intelligence, frankly." She looked at all the wounded. "I guess the problem with the wild animals becoming a menace is an even bigger problem than the recent reports indicated. Don't worry, though. I have some plans, and if Gov. Bright allows me to implement my plans, I think we can prevent such things like this from happening in the very near future."

"Like what kind of plans?" asked Sheila, curious.

“Oh, stuff you probably wouldn't be too interested in right now, Sheila. I won't say too much, until Gov. Bright gives me the go-ahead. Then, you will see my ideas. You will be surprised, I can guarantee it."

As some Agents helped Mrs. Rubble down from a preservation block, Sr. Veg Hoyle noticed for the first time, really noticed, the flowers freshly planted at the bases of the cubes to decorate the park. These caught Veg's attention. She went over to a nearby cube, to look at the flowers more closely. She then went to a few more of the blocks, noticing that they all had the same type of flowers planted at their bases.

Sheila watched, wondering why the flowers interested the Doctor so much. A bit strange, considering there were still some injured to take care of.

Sec. Ldr. Mita Morgan ordered Agent Osmo Martin, "Be sure to make out a report. I cannot stay here any longer. I am taking the on-duty Agents with me. We must track down that herd, and either capture or get rid of them." She called the Security Agents over to her side. Mita Morgan gave a few orders and delegated to some the task of helping the tourists, but most of the Agents she took with her, and they took off on the trail of the buffalo, following their tiny hoofprints.

When Veg Hoyle returned to Osmo and Sheila's company, Sheila asked, "Dr. Hoyle, what's with admiring the flowers?"

"I am not exactly admiring them. They are very curious, to say the least, considering the circumstances."

"Oh?" Sheila Bright didn't understand.

The young Doctor explained. "Back at my clinic, I wanted some nice landscaping, and I loved these here beautiful, fragrant flowers. A very charming new breed. However, one of the first things they warn you about, when you want to plant these in large quantity, is that these flowers attract some genetically varied species, and can bring out their aggressive side. How could anybody make such a mistake and plant them throughout a public park? Even if the landscaper did not know there might be a problem with a large pack of genetically modified animals in the wild, still it is stupid to risk attracting even a few of the wild animals that might be out there, to bring them here to become a public nuisance.”

Osmo Martin shook his head, dismayed. "Talk about a bone-headed blunder!"

Sheila scowled. "The park landscaper should certainly have known better! Just how can such a mistake even be possible?!"

"Hmph, ya got me," confessed Dr. Veg Hoyle. "I just cannot imagine it.”

(c) drk 2012

00095

Albert Zoeniga quickly located the mini-blaster he had just put down inside the tent. "Don't worry, X-9, I'm coming!"

Nina McCleer, still by the heater, watched with concern as the young adult jumped back into the snow and ran through X-9's tracks toward the blue beast holding down the robot, now buried in the snow.

Albert Zoeniga carefully aimed the small weapon, making sure to be close enough so as not to miss a vital, even though, as a rule, there was nothing wrong with Albert's aim- but he wasn't going to take chances with this huge creature!

"Wait, Mr. Zoeniga, don't shoot him," X-9 called from under the snow and the brute. The ugly thing began to playfully lick the robot's face. "Don't shoot Fuzzy-"

The robot pushed aside the heavy hybrid. "Off, Fuzzy, off the nice robot! Down, Fuzzy, down, I say- Bad dog... or whatever you are...”

Nina McCleer wasted no time in joining Albert again in the snow, to help fend off the creature. Albert kept up the blaster, trying to focus it on the hyperactive thing licking X-9. The whole situation began to bewilder the pair of humans.

Fuzzy backed up and sat on its tail, allowing X-9 to regain his feet. "Good Fuzzy." The robot patted Fuzzy's head. "This is what you are supposed to do in such circumstances," he told them. “Pat its head.”

X-9 turned and faced his human companions, who were still trying to figure out what was going on. The robot reported, "When Fuzzy knocked me down and stood over me, I saw he is wearing a collar with a nametag. The nametag says, obviously, Fuzzy. I did not observe it previously, because the creature's shaggy fur somewhat covers it and conceals it from view. However, as I lay in the snow, looking up at him, at last it became visible." X-9 pointed to the tag.

"Hmm. So his name is Fuzzy," remarked Albert Zoeniga. "I did not see that one coming." He relaxed his aim with the blaster.

"Ah," said Nina. She looked at the animal in a new light. "If somebody is sentimental enough to put a collar on this monstrosity, then somebody might also be worried over his or her pet. So Fuzzy can't be from the Peace Lab's escaped animals, can he? As far as I know, the only nearby place he probably comes from is the R and D Lab. Who else would be making hybrids? If I know anything, Dr. Kitchen always liked to experiment in making crossovers when she taught our classes in college. This thing is strange enough to be one of her doings. Unless Fuzzy wandered outside from their lab and got lost in this blizzard, I think we can follow him, and he will lead us right there. Maybe R and D is even very, very closeby."

She looked closely at the bizarre thing, sitting there patiently in the howling wind and the deep snow. The creature seemed to be expecting something, as if it hoped for a treat or something. Nina McCleer shook her head, unbelieving. " What were they thinking, whoever they are, when they made something as ugly as you, Fuzzy? Yikes!"

Fuzzy sprang to his feet and began to jump up and down, and to circle their makeshift sled with the tent and the rations inside the tent. His nostrils worked overtime.

Amused, Albert chuckled. "Fuzzy seems to like something he smells in there."

Fuzzy circled Nina a few times, so she pet his head on one of his passes. He stopped and sat some more in the snow, seemingly oblivious to its cold. The snow began to settle on his face, but Fuzzy ignored the blizzard. Instead, he gave his best, biggest "begging" eyes to Nina.

"Ha ha, okay, Fuzzy. You wait there, I will get you a snack." She went into the tent.

X-9 cautioned, "Ma'm, is it wise to give Fuzzy anything to eat? We are low on supplies... Perhaps we should not have avoided the resorts we passed by on our way here. We could have stocked up. No, upon reflection, I realize it was best to keep ourselves unseen in order to avoid so many questions. Besides, maybe no one was even there at the resorts, anymore- maybe the fierce storm drove everybody back to Sparkle City."

Nina McCleer came back out the tent with a tiny soy burger. "I know we must consider our stock, X-9, I know." Then she tossed the burger to Fuzzy, who caught it in the air and gratefully ate it. "But, you see, X-9, I want to make friends with it, so it is sure to lead us back to the Lab, when it decides to go back home. I want it to be sure to bring us with, and not gallop so fast from us that we lose him in this storm."

"A good idea." X-9 approved of her strategy.

After swallowing the burger, Fuzzy hopped and danced. He ran here and there, zig-zagging randomly in the snow, but in a general direction, traveling ahead of them and to the left of the way which they had been going.

X-9 said, "I will follow his trail, or at least the general direction. He has made a crooked path for us in the snow. Get back on the sled, while I run after Fuzzy. It seems logical, as you say, Mrs. McCleer, that it may lead us to the R and D Lab."

Braving the harsh weather (at least for the moment), Nina McCleer and Albert Zoeniga sat cross-legged outside the tent, each on one side, trying not to fall off the fast-moving truck roof/sled towed by X-9. Truthfully, the tent took up most of the area of the sled, making sitting in his way very uncomfortable- but they wanted to watch Fuzzy as he went, hopefully following him to the R and D facility.

As X-9 tugged the sled, Fuzzy flashed back and forth, running almost out of sight (which was easy to do, in the still-thickly falling snow), then scampering back to Nina on the sled, so she could pat his snowy head, and then again running wildly into the distance.

"I can't wait to get to the R and D, and get some real food, so that we won't have to ration anymore," sighed Nina McCleer. "And then I must try to convince Dr. Kitchen- without her colleagues being aware- to help me find out the truth about George. She's a cold fish, but she has to help me- Maybe I can appeal to her vanity, or her desire to see if something challenging can be actually done, in this case, something to help my George. She loves a challenge. Anyway, like I said before, she had promised me help if I ever asked when I needed it. I need it..."

X-9 called back, above the moaning winds, "Mr. Zoeniga, be sure to keep the blaster handy, in case Fuzzy turns out to be lost and just leads us in circles. If he cannot lead us to the R and D Lab, then, perhaps you two may have to eat him, if you run out of supplies."

Shocked, Nina gasped, "X-9, what are you saying? He's a pet!"

Albert Zoeniga, however, agreed with X-9. "I'm willing to do it. I eat steak, I eat buffalo- I did, anyway, on Earth. Can't much afford it these days. So, I will also eat Fuzzy, if I must."

Fuzzy's leading made the going so much easier for X-9. The robot continued his speedy course, the sled following behind, with confidence that they headed the right way. He stayed in the hybrid’s steps, except when it deviated on one of the many impulsive twisty turns. The snow continued to fall on him and the sled. Since Fuzzy cleared a large pathway as he romped through the drifts, X-9 did not get so covered with snow because he no longer needed to trudge through a hip-deep mess. He kept, as much as he could, in Fuzzy's large pawprints trail, and therefore, he no longer had a problem with melted slush getting into his joints and then freezing his legs. He could maintain this speed all night, if he had to. The downside, for Nina and Albert, was that at this faster speed, the traveling was so bumpy, the humans got quite jostled as X-9 raced onward... Just how far away was the R and D Lab, anyway?”

It became a routine over the next few hours. Fuzzy almost moved out of sight, then he returned for another pat on the head or a treat, and then he flew off once more, charging to who knows where. Of course, after some time of traveling like this, Nina and Albert had decided to occasionally step inside the tent, to warm up by the heater. Then, they went back outside, so Nina could again show some affection to Fuzzy. And so the routine went.

During one of the warm-up times in the shelter of the tent, Albert inquired, "Sis Nina, what will we tell them at the Lab? What kind of cover story can we say, to explain why we are on their top-secret doorstep?"

"I think we may be able to convince them we got lost while on a camping trip, and our robot is trying to help us find our way back, and even our truck had become stuck in the snow in the middle of nowhere, so we had to improvise to make this sled. Then, we play it by ear. I think I can trust Dr. Kitchen will not tell them who I really am, and why I am there. Maybe the best we can hope for, is for Dr. Kitchen to help us find some prototype things that might be useful for our plans. I know it seems like a far shot at success, but maybe God will bless our efforts. I pray so. You know, Albert, I hate lying and maybe stealing some prototypes, even after what Gov. Bright has probably had done to my husband, but I don't know what else to do. Usually, George helps me sort these things out..."

Albert nodded in understanding. "It's stuff like this, and what we are doing- practicing situational ethics, it seems- um, what I am saying is that I hope it's not a bad reflection on us, on our faith, what we may have to resort to doing...”

“I, too, hope that," Nina seconded. "I am not wise enough to know the answer of what to do, unfortunately. But I am doing it to get back my husband. Xavier had no right to take him, and if we lie, it will be to people who work for Xavier.”

X-9 called to them from outside the tent. "Mrs. McCleer, Mr. Zoeniga, it is now getting dark. And also more cold. If Fuzzy does not run out of energy and need to take a rest, I can still follow him all night long, as long as he can go on, provided I don't lose him in the storm once it is darker and even harder to see ahead. He may get so far from us, and the snow may cover his tracks as I try to follow them, that we could be back to square one if I lose him.”

However, X-9's concerns were put to rest, when Fuzzy found a spot to settle down for the night. The huge monstrosity chose a place at the foot of a low, snow-covered hill, and it curled up there, right on top of the snow. As the green flakes began to blanket the strange animal, the hill shielded the creature from the brunt of the screaming wind.

X-9 caught up to him and pulled the sled alongside Fuzzy, between the beast and the hill. This gave those inside the tent better protection from the swirling gales on both sides of the hill. The robot stepped up onto the sled, to keep watch for the night. He did not need any sleep. He tried to keep quiet as he continually brushed off the snow from himself or the tent, so that Nina and Albert could sleep soundly.

Nina and Albert pulled the covers and quilts tighter about themselves for the night. This place where X-9 and Fuzzy stopped actually cut down on the terrible wind enough to make a comfortable difference for them. The two of them succeeded in getting some sleep, but not nearly as much or as satisfying as desired. It was still too cold!

After some slumber, X-9's shout awoke them. The mid-morning sun shined through the tent fabric.

"Better get your breakfast. Time for me to pull the sleigh again. Fuzzy's on the move." With that, he began his task.

Nina murmured, "I wish we had brought more coffee with us!"

"Uh oh," came the robot's voice from outside the tent. "Fuzzy apparently is well rested. He's bolted ahead, and I cannot find him. The storm is worsening. And, as I said could happen, the path is indeed blowing shut before my very robot eyes."

Albert groaned, half of his dry, cold biscuit still in his mouth. "I hope X-9 doesn't lose him! Still, Fuzzy seemed to be going in a general direction. If X-9 stays on that course, I pray it is the right direction to the R and D."

"I wonder why Fuzzy went off so quickly- maybe he left us?" said Nina. "I hope he comes back."

Later in the day, close to noon time, finally Fuzzy returned to keep them company. He pranced and played, just as before. "He's back," X-9 announced.

“But where had he gone?" wondered Nina.

X-9 theorized, "Maybe it was his meal time at the R and D, so he went there to be fed. Perhaps because it was meal time, his pace increased dramatically, to get to breakfast as fast as he could. Now that he is once more fed, he is back to play, in his relaxed mode-"

"That speed is relax mode?" questioned Nina.

"Yes, and so now I can keep pace with him. He certainly likes to eat. He doesn't look like he is starving, but he always acts like he is. He is getting food from somewhere, that is certain."

Nina tossed Fuzzy a snack. "That's good. Then I hope and pray that he leads us there- to the R and D facitlity. You will, right, Fuzzy? You're a good thing, aren't you? Yes, you are! Loyal and loving, you will take care of us when there is no more food left, right, Fuzzy? Oh, that's my good Fuzzy!”

(c) 2012 drk