00113




Osmo Martin glanced up as a young CDG volunteer brought breakfast into the so-called guest suite in the Governor's House. (Technically, Xavier Bright now preferred to call it the Leader's House, but quite often most people forgot themselves, and reverted back to its former name.) Yeah, Osmo was a guest, all right, just like so many members of the Civilian Defense Group were volunteers who had to brought in kicking and screaming.

The CDG volunteer carried the breakfast in on a tray and wanted to know where the captive wanted it set.

Osmo Martin had been seated before the screen. watching the daily censored news. He learned that Struber and the Hopers still held the rocketport. But the newscaster mentioned nothing about negotiations with Struber's gang. It seemed as if no one knew whether there were any negotiating going on or not. The news left out a lot of things, most of them in regard to what was happening on Earth these days, or how new business contracts with Earth stood, or how much fuel ore the world of Hope shipped to Earth.

Did the World of Hope stop all contact with Earth at this point? Did Gov. Bright- Oops- Did Leader Bright- did he make any pretense anymore about trying to talk Struber into giving back the rocketport? What really was going on these days outside these rooms, and did the news people even have a clue?

"Just set the tray on the end table there. Thanks. Say, where is B-12? Usually he brings me my meals, not my bodyguard. I guess they're giving you double-duty today, huh?

Osmo kept his eyes on the guard's blaster, but he tried not to be obvious about it. This guard, younger than Osmo, passed close by Osmo with the tray of food, but he had the presence of mind to use only one hand to carry the tray, and to keep his other hand on the blaster at his side.

"The Leader took all the robots he could find in the city,  Mr. Martin."

"Oh. Huh. Say, you have the advantage. I don't know your name."

"Abrel. Abrel Armstrong, Mr. Martin."

"Okay, Abrel. So why did Ldr. Bright take all the robots?" Osmo took the tray into his hands and studied the eggs. He made a face. "A bit runny, to be honest."

Abrel nodded. "They do look a bit unappetizing. As for the robots, I have no idea why Ldr. Bright wants them gathered up. I'm sure he has a good reason." Abrel turned and headed for the door out.

"Yes, I'm sure he does," muttered Osmo Martin. "Say, Abrel, what's your hurry? Keep me company and fill me in on the news these days. I doubt you have anything better to do, since you are today's guard, than to watch the hostage. But, you can stand outside the door, at attention for a whole shift, staring into space with nothing to do, if you really want."

"Well, I did bring a book with me today, and I have a seat there for me, too," the youth confided.

"Good idea. Lucky you. It's pretty dull for me in here, though. Do you know what Ldr. Bright has in store for me? -I actually heard him say it with his own mouth!"

"I was told not to ask questions."

"Then don't. I'll tell you anyway, however. Mr. Bright keeps me here as protection, so that Earth doesn't send any military might to take control of the rocketport again. They want their fuel ore brought to Earth, and these days it isn't getting there, thanks to the Hopers. Mr. Bright said, if the Earth sends any troops, he will kill the hostage- me! Can you believe it? I'm not quite sure if I do, myself. I wonder if Mr. Bright could carry out his threat? Maybe he could; he did lock me up in here, after all. I don't think I can take any chances that, in the end, he will turn out to do the good thing and not kill me, that it was just a bluff."

"Oh, so that's the story. I wondered about what's going on here with you, Mr. Martin."

"Call me Os. So, Abrel, tell me. Are you really going to let Ldr. Bright do that to me?"

"I can't stop him. Besides, whatever he does, I am sure he does it for the good of the World of Hope. Unfortunately, sometimes he must make hard choices."

Osmo snorted in contempt. "I was once as naive as you, and I too once believed all those stories about how wonderful Ldr. Xavier Bright is. And look what it got me. Well, no wonder you are so naive. You are so young, so wet behind the ears. You're only a kid. But why do they have you guarding me, instead of a well-trained, seasoned Security Agent? No offense, but it's a little insulting, you know. Like he's so sure I won't be much trouble, he lets a kid guard me! Say, would you like some of these grapes? At least these aren't runny!"

"I am a bit hungry, thanks. From what I understand, the Security Agents are stretched rather thin these days."

"Oh? Why is that"

"Well, the Security Agents are working on training the influx of volunteers that joined the Civilian Defense Group, which in turn is keeping order around town because the Hopers at the rocketport have stirred up everybody- Mind you, most of the CDG people actually side with the Hopers, but we can't let them harass the Earthers who don't belong here. But very few are in Sparkle City, anyway- most of them are stuck in the rocketport's lounge. They had hoped to flee the World of Hope before things got nasty, but Mr. Struber took over the rocketport before they could, and won't let them go."

"Oh. It sure sounds like there is a lot to keep the Security Agents and the CDG busy, then, huh?"

"Mm-hmm, yes. The CDG is also being trained to deal with any emergency situations that might involve wild animals or outlaws in hiding outside the city limits. My theory- I think the Security Agents are so busy, not because of training us CDG, but because much of their manpower is being used to hunt for the escaped miners."

"What? Miners? What's so special about miners, even if they did escapce? Must be a lot of them, to get so much attention, eh? This is the first I am hearing of this, Abrel."

"Oh, really? Well, what I gather is, there were only three who got away. Apparently, the former Security Leader Clyden, now a miner, had plotted an escape with a couple of other miners, and now they are being hunted for left and right."

"Clyden did that? Good for him! He's still a jerk, though, but I find his story of escaping to be very inspiring."

"Inspiring? How do you mean?" asked Abrel Armstrong.

For his answer, Osmo picked up the breakfast tray and swatted Abrel's head with it. His stunned guard dropped to the floor. "Sorry, Abrel," Osmo Martin apologized.

The first thing Osmo did was to take the other's blaster. Then he got some belts of his from his suitcase that had been brought here to him when Xavier Bright had made him a hostage. With the belts, Osmo tied Abrel to a chair. He tore up a shirt and made a gag with it, which he tied over his captive's mouth. Lastly, he made sure to lock the door to the suite after he exited. If Abrel managed to wriggle out his bonds, no way could he get out of the locked suite. Osmo couldn't.

Osmo chuckled, pleased with himself. "Like fishing in a barrel. I still got it!" But he avoided congratulating himself too soon. He still had to sneak away from the mansion without being seen. Maybe not too hard, since, as Abrel had said, the ranks of the Security Agents were spread thin, and there weren't nosey robots around anymore.


Downstairs the hostage stealthily went. The way he figured it, his best escape route would take him past the recreation hall. Osmo paused and entered the hall, thinking of all the good times he and Sheila Bright had had in here. Probably he could not count on her helping him in his escape. Too bad.

But he didn't stop in here just to remember the good ol' days with Sheila. No, some other memory. He looked over at the heavy bookshelf filled with books. He remembered coming in this room one day, soon after Mrs. McCleer's husband had been lost in a cave-in at the mines. On that day he had come here to look for his camera... Yep, it seemed like only yesterday. He remembered it very clearly.....


>>>Osmo Martin easily located his camera and picked it up. Then he noticed, there on the floor by the sofa, a strange black square device. Puzzled, he picked it up and looked at it. As he did so, a voice squeaked out, "Can you repeat, Mrs. McCleer? We did not copy that. The investigator will be there two days from now. You are to meet him at the rocketport. You can pretend he is a friend of yours come to help you through your difficult time. He will get to the bottom of Gov. Bright's doings, whether good or bad."

Shocked, Osmo stared at the black square.

What's this? What's this?  What was that voice talking about? Mrs.McCleer apparently, with this secret communications device, plotted with Earth against the Governor! No! She seemed so nice!

Maybe, Osmo reasoned within himself, the loss of her husband was too much for her mind. But where did she get this device?

He didn't think it right for her to betray her host Gov. Bright and, he had to admit, he didn't know what the wise Governor would deem the best way to treat the matter of Mrs. McCleer's betrayal. He also didn't want to get her in trouble by reporting the matter to the Governor. She already suffered so much with the death of her husband.

If Gov. Bright sent her back to Earth while she was still in this mourning phase, and obviously so confused, if he sent her away from here before they could reach her husband's body and she could have a proper funeral for him or take the body back with her to Earth, then it might be too much for her, already in a state of mental turmoil- WQho knows if she would ever recover then!

What to do? Osmo didn't know what this was all about, or the best way to deal with it-

When he heard advancing voices and footsteps in the outside corridor- those of Gov. Bright and his niece Sheila- his impulsive side took over. Without thinking anymore, he took the square device and pushed it in the space behind the heavy bookshelf setting tight against the wall. He could hear the square thingy slide down the wall, all the way to the bottom- There!

Now nobody could get the strange thing, whatever it was, because first one would have to empty all the books from the shelf before ever trying to move the heavy bookshelf. Maybe Osmo would be able to move it without taking off the books, but it was a cinch Mrs. McCleer would not be strong enough for such a task.

Now Mrs. McCleer wouldn't find the secret communicator and be able to plot against Sheila's Uncle Xavier, and at the same time Gov. Bright would be none the wiser about Mrs. McCleer. Now, no one would be hurt. And, wedged in between the wall and the shelf, no one could hear the muffled voice from the black square calling from Earth. Problem solved!

Gov. Bright opened the door. "Hurry, Osmo, time's almost up. We want to be punctual with Earth."<<<


Yeah, he recalled all that. And now he needed to find that little black square thing. He might not get a second chance to get to a radio and call Earth. Hopefully a secret call from that square thing would not be monitored or jammed. Osmo must assume the black square's transmission must have gone through unnoticed before, because he never heard anything that Ldr. Bright had had any inkling of Mrs. McCleer using such a device.

As he remembered, he also remembered seeing that miner that had looked like Mr. McCleer, who was supposed to be dead.. Ldr. Bright had assured him it was not who Osmo thought it was, but now he began to wonder about that.

No time to ponder the matter right now. He set his blaster on the sofa and he grabbed hold the bookcase and pushed it over. All of Xavier Bright's classic volumes spilled onto the floor. He found the strange device still sitting there, where it had been, behind the book case.

Osmo began to press this button and that, trying to figure out how to turn it on, how to make it work. "Hello?" he spoke into it as he fuddled with it. "Hello? Is anyone there? This is Osmo Martin- on the World of Hope. Gov. Bright- or, as he prefers, Ldr. Bright- has been holding me hostage, but I have now managed to escape. I am sneaking out the door in a moment, but before I do, I want to try and reach you guys on Earth. I want you people to know that I am now free- I am no longer a hostage! Just in case you did not yet send the Army because you fear for my safety, let me repeat- I am now free. So now you can send the Army, ASAP. It looks like Ldr. Bright is gearing up for a war. Send help, send the Army, and stop this bad man. Well, I can't stick around waiting for an answer from you. I only hope you got my message."

He stopped speaking and readied to slip the square into his pocket and once more take hold of his blaster. He planned that once he got out of the mansion, and found a place to hide, he could try again. But before he could do much, he heard a familiar female voice tsk-tsking him. "My, my, Osmo. You sure have been a bad boy."

He looked up and saw Security Leader Mita Morgan- his old classmate. She stood in the doorway of the recreation hall, and pointed her blaster straight at his chest. And he had never gotten the chance to once more take up his own, stolen blaster from the sofa.

Mita Morgan glanced over at the books laying on the floor. "You had a temper tantrum, eh? Good thing Abrel managed to get a hand free to call me on his comm-unit, before you wrecked this whole house!"

He groaned. "Arrgh! I didn't realize CDG volunteers had comm-units now. I thought because of the problem for dependable communications on this world, it would be too expensive to give all the CDG people comm-units! But- he was guarding me, after all. I should have thought to check! Stupid me!"

She tittered. "You can say that again." And she kept her blaster pointed at him.

(c) drk 2012