00103

Sheila Bright put on a bright, happy face for the inevitable news reporters and propagandists who would be covering the Governor's niece signing up for the Civilian Defense Group. She tried not to complain inwardly; after all, her Uncle had taken her in and given her a home after her mother's accident on an Earth visit. Sheila owed him, and besides that, she respected him as a great leader. So, if he thought it necessary for her age group- all of them, including herself- to sign up for the CDG, then she would dutifully volunteer.

It amazed her that the Tourist Trap had become a CDG Center. She would not have guessed that the proprietor had such trouble paying the taxes, especially since every time she and Osmo had come here, business seemed pretty good, in a modest sort of way. Not only the tourists came here, but many of the natives liked to frequent the night club. However, to help alleviate the overdue tax bill, and to help support the CDG, the establishment had negotiated setting aside half of the place to be used as a center for the CDG. Her Uncle Xavier had graciously accepted the offer, allowing the other half of the building to conduct business as usual.

Sheila Bright wondered about the ugly-looking, angry, small crowd that seemed to be gathering there, right outside in front of the Tourist Trap around the same time she arrived to sign up. They waved signs and shouted, usually all at the same time, but different things, so no one knew what they said. Now what? she wondered. These people were not the news people, but must have come here to be seen by them. So what was their beef? The young woman shook her head, hoping it wasn't another Incident in the making. And one of them, in the forefront, looked awfully familiar. He dressed shabbily and waved a sign, and she could not help but notice his right hand had a large, crude bandage wrapped about it. Ha, probably injured himself while making his sign, she chuckled to herself. She glanced at the sign he waved about, practically in her face- She could barely read the quick scrawl, something about Hope for Hopers. Whatever.

The reporters, of course, were waiting there also, as planned. They snapped her pic over and over when she showed up and as she exited her truck. Ex-Security Leader Clyden's old parking spot had been saved just for her arrival to the CDG Center, because it made good photos as she left the truck on her way to volunteer.

The newsfolk followed her inside. The other crowd, whoever they were, they moved aside and let her through, only shaking signs and shouting, but not obstructing the way. One of the news reporters briefly focused on them, mistakenly reporting that this crowd was here to cheer on those volunteering to serve the community.

Sheila Bright discovered several youths had beaten her to the front of the line of volunteers. Even several middle-aged citizens, probably unemployable, she guessed, were already lined up to join the Civilian Defense Group. It shamed her a little to realize she was not the first in line.

A man in a CDG uniform stood at the door, checking everyone who came in. He greeted Sheila and ushered in the news group. The man directed Sheila over to a newly set up desk near the back of the night club. The line of volunteers stood there, and behind the desk sat a woman in a brown uniform. Other staff in those same dreary outfits went hither and thither, some filing the paperwork of the volunteers, some leading some of the volunteers to back rooms for physicals.

More pics were snapped of Sheila as she stood in the line, waiting her turn. Her eyes roamed nostalgically around the room. Some of the changes the CDG's semi-take over produced included much better lighting than when the Tourist Trap was strictly a night club. And now, there was not nearly as much of a roomy dance floor. Too bad.

She recognized some of the Tourist Trap regulars, sitting there at the tables on the night club side despite the early morning hours. Some had come to drink, of course, but many came during the day hours because the Tourist Trap ran a respectable restaurant in the sunlight. Some came from curiosity, to see what new changes this new arrangement with the CDG had brought about- and which had been hastily set up the previous night, after the announcement of the forming of the CDG-, and some came to see the Governor's own niece also volunteer.

And there were new faces here, too- probably tourists from Earth, if their cleaner, nicer clothes were any indication. In fact, she did recognize one tourist- Veg Hoyle. The young, attractive doctor sat by herself, drinking a coffee while reading a book, another blockbuster novel by the famous drk.

Dr. Veg Hoyle stretched in her chair. She noticed Sheila and gave her a quick smile, remembering meeting her at the park. Sheila returned a smile and a nod. Veg Hoyle went back to her reading, while Sheila Bright remained standing in line.

"Next, please."

The kid in front of Sheila walked off with an escort, who took him to one of the back rooms. Now Sheila stood before the matron in the brown outfit.

“Name?"

As if she didn't know. But Sheila played a good sport and answered all the questions.

The older woman told her, "Go follow that woman into the back for your medical and, if qualified, to take your oath of service. After that, you will be suited up, Miss Bright."

"Yes, Ma'm."

A lot happened in the quarter hour inside the club's portion of the Tourist Trap while Sheila went in the backrooms to undergo the process of becoming a member of the CDG...

The crowd of protestors, who had stood outside before, decided to come now inside, to gain the attention of the news crews. By this time they had organized themselves a bit better, and chanted in unison (somewhat): "Hope is for Hopers! Hope is for Hopers!"

This caught everybody who heard them off-guard. But the rooms in the back, where the new volunteers had gone, were sound-proofed to keep out the distractions during oath-taking, so Sheila Bright and the others didn't hear a thing.

But the CDG man who stood by the door of the Tourist Trap/CDG Center found the intrusion completely unwelcome. He tried to push the first few rowdies back out the door.

"Here, now, what do you think you are doing?!" he demanded. Some of the other CDG staff hurried over to assist the doorman.

The noisy gang pushed past them and forced their way into the CDG Center/restaurant.

“Hope for Hopers! Hope for Hopers!”

The media people began to video them and take photos.

These chanting people, carrying their signs with them, gave off an air of unruliness that seemed about to burst forth. They moseyed over to the night club section and stood about, surrounding certain of the patrons- not the locals, but the new, unfamiliar faces of those who were not regulars, and most likely were tourists from Earth. They gathered about the tourists as the tourists ate, making a very uncomfortable mood for the Earthlings. Veg Hoyle tried to ignore them and continued reading her book.

"Go back to Earth where you belong! Go home, Earthers!" spouted the leader with the bandaged hand, and the rest took up the chant.

The owner of the club growled in annoyance. "Struber, what do you think you're doing this time? Don’t ya got a car to fix or somethin’? Get outta here! I'm tired of you always causing trouble!”

The protestors' leader ignored him. He continued to lead his gang in chanting the slogan, and trying not to be so obvious about enjoying and loving being the focus of the attention of the news people.

A man pushed his mic into Struber's face. "Exactly why is your group protesting today, Sir?"

Struber waved his sign about- Dr. Veg Hoyle had to duck because he nearly whacked her with it- "We're tired of being thralls to the people of Earth! We are tired of being exploited, like we are second-class citizens- and on our own world, yet! We want Earth to respect us! We want the Earthers to get out of here, to get out of our business, and let us run our planet our own way! If Earth wants our fuel ore, then let Earth treat us fairly to get it!"

"Yeah, you tell 'em, Struber," one of his co-horts shouted in agreement.

Meanwhile, in the back rooms, Sheila Bright realized the medics breezed her through the tests. The Governor's niece smiled to herself. It pays to have relatives with high positions. She knew they would rush her processing, so they could put her in a CDG uniform and present her to the waiting news folk out there before they became tired of waiting and left without getting any pics of her in the brown outfit.

When she emerged for the public debut of her official CDG uniform, the commotion happening in the other half of the Tourist Trap surprised her.

She watched in bafflement as the crowd that had stood outside before was now inside the place, circling the tourists, yelling, "Go home, Earthers! Go home, Earthers!”

The busboy and the bouncer both asked the rowdies to leave, but they shouted all the more. "Go home, Earthers! Go home, Earthers! Hope for Hopers!"

Concerned for Veg, who had helped Osmo Martin and she chase away the buffalo attack in the park, Sheila scanned the tables, looking for the Earth Doctor to see if she was still here eating, and if the protestors were pesting her and the other tourists. Whether she lived on Hope or on Earth, this was no way to treat Dr. Hoyle! There- there she was. Sheila had spied her through the throng, and it appeared Veg wanted to get up and leave, but the protestors had her hemmed in. Veg Hoyle was unable to follow the protestors' own suggestion for her to "go."

The news agents had been so caught up with Struber and his gang, they completely missed Sheila's entrance as a CDG volunteer. Sheila Bright did not care so much about that, but she did care that Veg had done nothing wrong to deserve being treated like this. Back at the park, she had shown herself to be more than willing to help those in need, whether from Earth or from Hope. And this is the way these clods show their thanks to her for helping their fellow Hope citizens?

Sheila decided to do something about it. She steeled up her nerve and tromped up to the gang surrounding Veg Hoyle and the other tourists. "Move aside. Move aside, I say! Let me pass!"

Sheila didn’t forget she now wore a uniform. Secretly, she really hated the uniform- although she had made up a speech for the news folks about how proud she was to wear it. Now, she saw that she would not have needed to waste her time rehearsing her speech. However, she hoped the uniform would intimidate the rabble-rousing trouble-makers.

Earlier, she recalled, they had parted for her when she had come to sign up. Certainly, they should still be so obliging, unless they had become more brave, even willing now to oppose the CDG and Gov. Bright's own niece, a member of the CDG! “Move it, I said!”

A tough-looking character amongst the group shot back, "Says who? We'll move aside when we wanna!"

Struber, on the left of the tough-guy, ordered, "Hey, cool it around the niece. You know that will cause trouble if you give her grief. Besides, she's CDG now. Have some proper respect!”

It worked! thought Sheila Bright.

“Okay, Struber, you're the boss," answered the other. He then stepped out of Sheila's way. "There ya go."

Sheila gave the rude guy an evil look. She worked her way over to Veg Hoyle's table. "C'mon, Doc, let's ditch this place."

Veg again smiled at her. "You don't need to ask me twice. I am beginning to think my clinic in the high crime area back home is a lot more relaxing than this planet is turning out to be. No offense meant against your world, of course, Miss Bright.”

Sheila led the tourist doctor out of the meelee- and the other tourists quickly followed in their tracks. Recorddrs and cameras took it all in. What a story! No sooner than Sheila Bright is a CDG volunteer, then she goes and rescues a bunch of tourists from Earth from unhappy rowdies of the World of Hope.

Naturally, as soon as Struber and his gang had barged into the Tourist Trap, somebody on the CDG staff had summoned the Security Agents for help, having expected these loud protestors to become a nuisance problem. And they did. And now, a half dozen Security Agents arrived, led by Security Leader Mita Morgan.

"Break it up!" Mita Morgan ordered. "Disperse, or be cited!" she demanded. She added, "Or, maybe the lot of you want to spend some time in jail for disturbing the peace!"

Struber looked from her to the faces of his disgruntled fellow protestors. Clearly, his crew did not want to give in.

Struber waved his bandaged hand toward the exit. "Okay, guys, let's go. The tourists slunk away already, hanging onto the Governor's niece's skirts. We got our point across, and we got no beef with the Security Agents, so we're done here for now."

Grumbling, the others followed Struber as he retreated out the door. They quietly disbanded, splitting up and going their separate ways. The Security Agents went outside with them, watching them go, making sure they kept out of mischief as they departed, but not chasing them.

Struber also walked away. He went down one street, then turned into a secluded alleyway. He leaned upon an old stone building, and waited. As if he had an appointment with someone.

Fifteen minutes later, Security Leader Morgan entered that same alley. She greeted him cordially. "What did you do to your hand, Mr. Struber? Why the bandage?"

He reflexively held his wounded hand up. With a chuckle, he replied, "Oh, one of those buffalo at the farm did that to me. Even though they were farm raised didn't mean they couldn't be vicious when being gathered up. Speaking of that, how'd you like my work at the park the other day?”

“Very convincing. If I didn't know better, I would have thought it was actually a wild buffalo stampede from the wilds beyond Sparkle City."

Struber nodded. "Good. So, tell me, are there really so many wild animals and outlaws lurking out there in the wilderness like Gov. Bright says? Or, is it just some excuse for something?"

The Security Leader’s mouth upturned a slight bit, but she gave a less-than-straightforward answer. "Gov. Bright has it under control. No need to worry, Mr. Struber.”

Struber nodded. "Okay, fair enough. As long as I get my pay."

"You will. I will also have someone deliver that stupid robot doll I promised you for your little girl. Tonight, in fact, right to your door. I warn you, though, that doll is a whiner. It's name is Boo Boo. It should be Boo Hoo."

"It's a pleasure doing business with you, Sec. Ldr. Morgan. You let me know when and where you need me and the gang to show up again, Ma'm.”

“Okay. What about the rocketport? You think you and your guys can tie it up with your rabble-rousing for the next few days? Delay Earth from getting its precious fuel ore delivery on schedule. That should get their attention on Earth. And teach them a lesson, too," sneered the young Security Leader.

"You got it. We can do it, Sec. Ldr. Morgan," Struber assured her.”

(c) drk 2012