As I said a while ago, I'm trying to get back to posting regularly on this blog. 

There is quite a lot that I could be adding to it just to catch it up to date, but too much at once wouldn't be a good thing. I will say that I have been regularly keeping up my main website, Robby's Books with a full list of my books, and recently, also my book formatting website, Robby's eBook Formatting. I'm hoping to start doing more book design for customers. 

I'll also take this opportunity to call your attention to my most recently published space trilogy, The Rat Queen. 

Very brief description:  

A feral child - a refugee from a doomed planet - now living with the rats on a space station run by hostile aliens. She’s the key to human survival

Longer description:

Aliens have a longer life span and therefore they know: Just because one generation of humans is settled and content, doesn't mean their spoiled brats won’t grow up, undo their progress and repeat the atrocities of previous generations. Since humanity became a space faring species, the pattern hasn’t changed, only the extent of the damage. Now, human survival is in the balance…Enter: the Rat Queen

As I said, it's a trilogy:

Review of Somtow's The Utopia Hunters

Utopia Hunters

 

It's a collection of stories, each casting its light of meaning on to a bigger story; that inhabited by a young female artist named Jenjen. Through the stories, each told by the Rememberer, Tash, she slowly comes to understand the particular point in history in which she finds herself; namely, the beginning of the fall of the millenia old empire of the Inquest.

Those who have been reading the Inquestor series already know some of the characters of the stories: the Inquestor Ton Elleran, Sajit, Veruneh, Siriss, Aryk; some appearing both in their stories and in the overall story - Ton Elleran in particular. 

From the collection of stories, we can now piece together Elleran's life history. They help Jenjen discover what made Hokh Ton Elleran into the sad, tragic old man she meets as an eight year old in the opening chapter. 

Some of the stories confuse her further, revealing the cruel side of the High Compassion, casting Ton Elleran as no better than the rest: but they also show the view he has from the inside, and his conviction that the Inquest must fall.

Jenjen realises her part in it, as an artist, and she fulfills her role.

In the same way, this book fulfills a unique role in the Inquestor series, following the logical progression of the bigger story, but at the same time, creating a diversion by sprinkling in the smaller stories, some of which have been published in various Scifi journals during the heyday of classical science fiction.

A good read...

A step into Uncharted Scifi

S P Somtow's Light on the Sound 

After reading or watching so much space fiction, when it seems like all the possible scenarios have probably been used at some time or another, and space warriors remind you of the US Marines, and the future of the galaxy is English speaking white, from S P Somtow's Inquestor Universe comes a breath of fresh air. 

Light on the Sound is the first in the series, though it's the third one I've read and reviewed. It begins with a piece of prose describing a feature of a habitable planet like nothing ever imagined by the aforesaid works of space fiction, a gigantic covered crater with a dense atmosphere, in which swim - or fly - the delphinoids. These are a giant fish-like (or bird-like) creature with giant exo-brains (is that a word?) that give them a consciousness of the overcosm - that network of logical lines that links every part of the galaxy, enabling faster than light travel. Only the delphinoids know how to navigate the overcosm, but they don't. They just fly about their massive "sunless sound" singing about it, emitting both light and sound that would drive ordinary humans mad for their sheer beauty. 

A delphinoid, connected to the right technology, is useful for enabling a space ship to navigate the overcosm. The only ones that are able to catch them are a race of deaf and blind humans, who have been doing this for many millennia , as part of their culture. The sunless sound is their whole universe. 

After the opening prose, the world opens up further through the eyes of 14 year old Kelver, a common peasant boy, whose life begins to take a totally unpredicted turn. That has to do with his meeting the second main character in the story, a girl from the other side of the "sky wall", the great dark area where the delphinoids live. 

Her people have been innocently hunting the noble creatures which they can neither see nor hear for millennia, thinking they are guiding them home. However, Darktouch has a "birth defect"; she can both see and hear. She hears the song of the delphinoid on her first hunt, and realises something is very wrong. 

So, there's that proverbial question, "How do you describe colour to one blind from birth?" Somtow skilfully describes her sensations through her point of view in a world where there are no words for sight and hearing, and she thinks something is wrong with her. Even for the seeing, it's a dark world, so the difference isn't as profound as it would be outside. But there's enough to start her on her journey. 

The third main character (actually the second in order of appearance), is the Inquestor, Ton Davaryush, who has just been appointed King of the planet. Through him, we discover the ins and outs of the Inquestral universe, the Dispersal of Man, the god like status of the Inquestors, and their guiding philosophy of High Compassion. However, Ton Davaryush has also known something is badly wrong, ever since his encounter with a sentient star. 

Then, there's Lady Varuneh, an equally interesting character. All their paths cross, and they set out together, determined to right all the wrongs. Their path twists and turns, they discover things… 

But the reader also discovers life beyond warp-speed and planetary colonisation. Even in listing the concepts involved in this story, I've only scratched the surface. This is certainly a worthwhile read, and a first step into a new world of hitherto uncharted science fiction.

Being Two: a review of P Somtow's Homeworld or rhe Heart

If you've read any of the others of Somtow's Inquestor series, you'll remember Sajit as the wisened musician, a character as only a virtuoso as Somtow Sucharitkul could invent, who  under the patronage of the Inquestor Ton Elloran, has creat a music lover's paradise. In those earlier stories, we learn only enough about him to wish we could learn more. And now, here's our chance to do just that. We meet Sajit as a ten-year-old. 

However, my advice here is, don't rush headlong into this one unless you've read at least one of the earlier books in the series. Any of the first two or three will do. They're ok as stand-alone narratives. Things are sufficiently explained in those that you need to know before beginning Homeworld of the Heart - things like, what is an Inquestor? Why their obsession with utopias? Their cosmic game of makrugh, child soldiers with their deadly laser eyes, that vast habitable shell surrounding the black hole in centre of the galaxy, where whole stars are pulled through the gaps at the poles of the sphere; and other things. That's not a criticism. To go through the whole explanation yet again would be tedious. Time to get on with the story, but do your homework first if necessary. It will be well worth it. 

Somtow's multicultural upbringing has left him with a profound ability to understand yet other cultures, and he uses that to full advantage in the inquestor series. I particularly appreciate that aspect, as I'm a bit that way myself. It is good to see science fiction that doesn't assume that the future of the galaxy is Anglo white. 

Because of the name, I tend to picture Sajit as Indian. The cover (painted by Somtow's protégé Micky), however, pictures him more Thai looking. The name could be either - or Khmer. 

The culture, in this case, is both primitive and highly advanced. People travel about via displacement plates (for teleporting), and use other equally advanced devices on a daily basis; and yet they share a taboo with some of the most primitive tribes of earth: twins are considered an abomination. When they're born, one of them must be killed at birth. 

Sajit has something worse than a twin, a "dopple". It was cloned for him by someone very high up, who has an interest in Sajit's future, so that it could be sent in his place when it was time to be drafted as a child-soldier. But Sajit awakens his dopple prematurely, without anyone else knowing, and they bond. He names his dopple Tijas. 

The story of not-one-but-two Sajits takes many an intriguing turn. There are expectations of Sajit's future that run contrary to his own longings; there's a planitary crises that's the result of the great game of cosmic chess - complicated by a bureaucratic error (and of course, the gods don't make mistakes); there are relationships complicated by time dilation; and more. All the while, Somtow keeps us glued, all the while imparting to the reader the aspirations and longing of the two boys for each other. Love does what love requires, even if it's fighting each other to save the other's life.

He weaves it all to a climax, but their story isn't over. There's more to come in another sequel. 

Subtitled: Humanity Can't Be Trusted

It's classical science fiction. I read it in 1969 when I was about 13 years old, but re-reading it now, I realise how much of it was away over my head. Not only has my head changed since then, but so have the times. Yet, the message comes out very clear in a way that only became popular later on: Humanity can't be trusted.

Robert Fairlie is an expert in languages, ancient and modern. He has been asked to help with a project for what he thought was the Smithsonian Institution. Instead, on disembarking at the air terminal, he's picked up and driven to a top secret facility in the New Mexico desert.

I suppose you guessed it -- it's a pre-Neil Armstrong we've-landed-on-the-moon story. On the moon, they made a shocking discovery: someone's been there already. Thousands of years ago, actually. There are the ruins of what was a space port and evidence that it was destroyed in an attack. Enough relics are found to enable scientists to recreate one of their space ships, but no one understands how they work, or where they're from. There's documentation, but in a totally unknown language. Also, voice recordings that play back on a strange machine they happened to find in one piece. That's why Robert Fairlie and other linguists were drafted.

Deciphering a language with no known references is nearly impossible. Almost ready to give up, Robert tries one more idea that has been plaguing him. Some of the syntax of the language reminded him of ancient Sumerian. He follows that lead, and sure enough...

The ancient astronauts are the ancestors of humanity -- Earth humanity, that is. Humans didn't start on Earth. What's more, they locate the original planet of humanity. Now able to read the how-to manuals, they get the ship into working order. The bulk of the narrative is the trip to a planet across the galaxy. Of course, Robert Fairlie has to go along, as someone has to talk to the people there.

One question remains, which is why the project seems so urgent. Who destroyed the base on the moon? Who was the enemy even more advanced and high tech than the ancestors of the Sumerians?

Before it became a Hollywood scriptwriter's cliche, Edmond Hamilton characterised DeWitt as the military heavyweight who's going to run roughshod over any obstacle to American interests. Christensen is the more level headed scientist who knows that there are more important things at stake. If it seems like an old and dusty scenario, give him the benefit. It was a much more fresh and daring thing way to express when Edmond Hamilton wrote it in 1960. When I first read it, America was still the good guy, playing the hero in Vietnam, "with God on our side". Military men were always depicted as knights in shining armour. Think John Wayne. Contrary to one of the other reviews I've read on the Amazon review page, it wasn't a tired cliche when Hamilton wrote it.

As it is, Hamilton presented a very well narrated story of human imperialism then and now. Who destroyed the base on the moon? Someone who knew that humanity couldn't be trusted.

Review of John C. Wright's City Beyond Time

Subtitled: Time and Space Gymnastics

John C. Wright is one of the best I know at spinning a yarn out of the fabric of space and time. This is a set of short stories that are all based on universe of Metachronopolis.

Metachronopolis is the city at the end of time. It's where time travellers live, referred to as "time wardens". They're the ones who keep things organised -- well, at least they're supposed to. Like police in many parts of today's world, a lot of them are corrupt and self seeking.

They're not the only ones there. Just about every famous personality in history is also there. The time wardens are capable of showing up an instant before a person's death, and replacing them with a dead clone of themselves. It happens in a split second, so no one sees it happening. In other words, that wasn't John F. Kennedy's body you saw being rushed to the hospital on that momentous day in 1963, but his clone.

In each tale, Wright does a different acrobatic stunt, each with an unexpected twist on time travel. They're all stand alone stories, but the last sort of ties the whole concept together by showing us what it's really all about. A Christian that John Wright is, there's a profound lesson in each one.

A must read...

Review of Chance Maree's Undazzled

Subtitled: Planet of the – What?

As the planet Earth is dying, it appears that we've come full circle. We're again using beasts of burden for transport. However, these aren't earth hugging camels and mules, but space travelling “worm-moles” – so named because they bore worm holes to distant parts of the gallaxy. They're gigantic creatures, and they wear what would make up the rest of the space ship, like a collar. How were they discovered? Hold that question for the last and climactic chapter of the book.

The people best equipped to pilot a worm-mole are upper middle-aged women, dubbed “crones”. A part of the worm-mole's brain extends into the bridge deck like an easy-chair, and the “crone” sits naked in it as it engulfs her body, except for her face, so she can communicate with the creature through her skin.

Pots Khan-Anderson is a crone, who pilots Alpha Horizon – “Alphie” for short. Earth is dying, and the race is on to relocate as much of humanity as possible (or a chosen representation thereof) to three habitable planets in a different part of the galaxy. These planets are thought not to be already inhabited by intelligent life. The Alpha Horizon is taking the first load.

Something very surreal begins to happen along the way – in fact, very weird – which almost gives the story a fantasy edge. Then, when they arrive, they discover, they aren't alone. Another race, closely approximating humans, inhabits the planet – a primative tribe not much different from Native Americans (at least that's how they struck me as I read it). In fact, because of the surreal thing that happened along the way, they look more human than the newcomers.

There are a number of narrative points of view, each told in the third person. Each chapter is named for the POV. The first is Pots, followed by the commander, Gunner Dovmont, and then the teenager who is thought to be his son, Tyr Dovmont. Among later chapters are Ata, a pre-teen girl, a native of the planet.

Commander Gunner meditates on Taoist proverbs. Each chapter contains at least one quotation. Despite that, he's the villain. We find out early in the narrative what he intends to do about the native population – but not so early that telling you wouldn't be a spoiler. But from the first, we see that he and Pots definately don't get along. Since Pots isn't military personel – rather works directly for NASA, which has become privatised – that's okay. Montalbam, the captain of the Alpha Horizon is her boss. Commander Gunner's command is over the actual settlement on the new planet.

Tyre is a hybrid human, the product of an experiment that had to be aborted when the public found out about it. The other young subjects, believed not to be human, had to be put down. Gunner knew the doctor in charge of the project, and managed to keep Tyre for his own purposes. However, we soon find that Tyre, though a deadly weapon in the wrong hands (namely Gunner's), does have feelings and a mind of his own whenever he has control over his own actions.

Those who understand the history of Native Americans and the rise of the U.S., will get a lot out of this. While Gunner and his colleagues seek to avoid some of the same mistakes, things still go awry – human nature hasn't changed. There are the same questions: Whose land is it? How can we co-exist when earth-human survival is the priority? Plus a few more: Who are the fabled “people in the canyon”, whom the local tribesmen threaten will squash the newcomers like vermin if they infest the land? Are they no more than a local legend, or is there something more...? And that surreal effect I mentioned earlier...

Chance Maree handles her characters very well. One of my favourite scenes is the screening of The Planet of the Apes on the new colony. Things have happened, people are upset with each other for various reasons, and Chance masterfully plays two or three conversations at once while keeping us aware of what Charlton Heston is doing during the opening scenes of the film.

Over all, a good read. I give it five stars.

Review of R. Leib's The Negative's Tale

subtitle: brilliant fictional science in a tale within a tale

 

Allon Wu lives sometime in our distant future – far enough for people, having aged 300 with the help of their non-sentient clones, to have become bored with life – plus enough time for us to have developed that technology. Alternatively, one could figure in the time it'll take us to get around the barriers to faster-than-light travel, and then populate the farthest reaches of our galaxy.

The latter technology is one in which our protagonist plays an essential part, through his psychic ability. But first, let's start with how faster-than-light travel is possible to begin with: it's those factors that also make time-travel impossible, that are combined so as to complement each other, that make faster-than-light travel possible. When it's done right, computers can then be used to calculate the variables that will relocate the ship to anywhere in the universe – within certain limits. However, things can still go horribly wrong through various distortions in the cosmos, and that's where a navigators with psychic abilities comes in. Only they can detect those distortions so as to make the necessary mid-course adjustments. So, one or two such “navigators” are required for every interstellar flight.

Allon Wu's particular ability is rare. He's a dowser with negative orientation. As a “negative”, he's able to enter the mind of any psychic of “positive” orientation, and make use of their ability. His use of his ability as a dowser (finding things, or hitting on the right course of action) is also affected by his negative orientation. The right course of action is usually the one his normal intuition tells him is the most unlikely, so he has to learn act counter-intuitively – almost in a New Testament sort of way: becoming small in order to achieve greatness, losing your life to gain it, etc.

Leib's fictional science is brilliant. Not being a nuclear physicist myself, I don't know where the hard science ends and his ingenuity begins. Not having read every sci fi novel ever written, I don't know if anyone else has thought of this sort of work-around to faster-than-light travel – with the possible exception of myself (I used something I called “logical relocation” in one of my novels, but I didn't explain it in nearly so much detail – and I didn't use psychics).

The technical details are explained to 10-year-old Allon Wu by his aged instructor, Professor Billgore at the beginning of one of the two story-lines in this narrative. That's the other unique feature of Leib's novel; he's actually telling two stories.

The main story is the one in which the adult Allon Wu has been commissioned by his estranged wife, a Vice Admiral, to solve a suspected murder on board a space station cum city. The background story is told, initially through flash-backs, and then continued in the form of a story he tells his colleagues during pauses in their action – thus the “Negative's Tale”. The “tale” actually takes longer than the main story. It begins with a workplace accident that changed the direction of his career, then further back to the age of ten, when he began his education as a “second navigator”, then his romance with the Vice Admiral that began in the wake of his career change following the accident. The story he tells his two colleagues is of a trip to distant star system in pursuit of a murderous religious fanatic who has almost killed his admiral/wife, and is on his way to systematically kill more people. On this trip, he interacts with non-human extraterrestrials, which, interestingly, one of his old professors claimed didn't exist. Both stories come to a great finish.

Personally, I loved the innovative style of this book. I can see how some might prefer a more standard approach, but I loved it. Although there may have been a few non-standards glitches such as switching points of view in mid scene, a few over-long descriptions and a little bit of unnaturalness in some parts of the dialogue; the great story-telling carried it for me, so I'm giving it a fiver.

The Night Land -- John C. Wright, William Hodgson, et al

This is a collection of four novellas based on the world of William Hodgson's The Night Lands. The first novella is available as a free download, which I read before buying the full version. After reading the second one in the series, I went to Gutenberg.com and downloaded William H. Hodgson's book, The Night Lands. I'd say those actions should speak for themselves as to how much I liked John Wright's work.

William Hodgson's Night Lands could be up there with Middle Earth and the Star Wars universe, except that Hodgson's narration of it is so difficult to slough through. John Wright has done a commendable job of moving it into public literary consciousness with his excellent writing -- much easier to read while still using grand literary style.

The premise: it's millions of years in the future, the sun has died, and the earth is in darkness. The thick cloud surrounding the earth also blocks out the stars. A variety of horrific monsters have taken over the landscape, some of which can, not only kill the body, but also consume the soul as well. Humanity is surviving with the help of subterranean heat. Human technology of that time has enabled them to build a 7 mile tall pyramid shaped tower, called The Last Redoubt, capable of holding millions of people -- all that's left of humanity. Each floor is a whole city. For more details of the fascinating world, read the Wikipedia entry.

I never did finish William Hodgson's book. I got more than half way through, which was enough to give me the basic idea of the story. William Hodgson was a Victorian age writer, but he intentionally wrote it in 16th century style, from the narrative point of view of a gentleman living at the time. He falls in love with a young lady named Merdath. They marry, but she dies. During his mourning, he has a dream of the far future, where a reincarnation of himself, a young man, lives in the Last Reoubt. Through highly advanced instruments and his own telepathic powers (which humanity has developed by then), he hears a voice he recognises, that of the reincarnation of Merdath. She's calling from a lesser redoubt at the opposite end of the extremely deep valley in which both redoubts were built. They were built there because the air at the old earth's surface is too thin to breath. Also, in the valley, there are scattered pot holes of lava that are good for warming oneself. The Last Redoubt, itself, is warmed and energised by a large vein of subterranean energy.

After Hodgson's hero begins hearing the voice of his ancient lover, it becomes apparent that something horrible has happened to the Lesser Redoubt. The first half of the book is the journey through a landscape every bit as full and detailed as Tolkein's Middle Earth -- the difference being that almost everything is hostile and dangerous. He finds her, and the second half covers their journey home, and, I suppose, a bit of their life back at the Greater Redoubt. As I said, I didn't make it to the end, as a lot of that was more like a 16th century romance, with very wordy and detailed descriptions of their love, which didn't appeal to me.

When John C. Wright was young, Hodgson's book existed in two out-of-print volumes. Young John had found the first volume, read it up to the part where the hero was on the verge of finding Merdath, and spent the rest of his young adulthood pining for the second volume. Gutenburg.com wasn't around then. His compendium of novellas stays faithful to the world of William Hodgson, including the reincarnation aspect. Reincarnation is a necessary part of the Night Lands universe. John C. Wright is a Roman Catholic who doesn't believe in reincarnation, but neither does he, nor I, believe in witches riding on broomsticks or small men with hairy feet who live in holes, but we still enjoy an occasional story or two that feature such things.

The first three stories in Wright's collection are set in the Night Lands as Hodgson knew them. His story of the search and rescue of Merdath, is a part of the history. The fourth is set at the end of the universe as we know it, one that has passed the "Night Lands" phase of human history, but takes a twist that only John Wright can give it, with his brilliant adaptation of the physics of time and space.

My recommendation: discover the Night Lands through John C. Wright's book, and later, if your appetite has been sufficiently whetted, download William Hodgson's book.

Review of Florian Armas' Io Deceneus

We know the main character only as Deceneus. Even then, he's not quite sure of that name, nor in what sense he's “Deceneus”. There was one of that name much earlier in the history of that planet, and a belief in another yet to come. It all comes together in the course of the story.

Not that we really need a name for him; the narrative point of view is from inside his head, but it's not just a simple first person POV – it's a stream of consciousness where each two-person dialogue becomes a three-way conversation, his own thoughts interjected as the third party. It makes for a unique reading experience, though it may take some getting used to. But I like literary experiments like that.

We begin the ride on Earth, where his name isn't Deceneus, nor is there anything about him that would suggest he's to be a hero of an other-worldly scenario – except, perhaps, the dream described in the prologue. We find him wallowing in alcohol and self-pity, having recently lost his job.

Later we learn that dreams are the way that “gates” and similar beings test those who might be suitable recruits for time travel. Deceneus nick-names his “gate”, “Houston”, after NASA's Houston – as in “Houston, we have a problem”. And, there's no shortage of problems, which “Houston” has to mother him through in order to make him ready for his first contract.

Apart from the “gates”, there are many other intelligent creatures inhabiting the universe. Most of them far surpass humans in brain capacity (a refreshing change from most SF I've read), so much so that humans and other similar races are seen as experiments, or even game pieces in the “game that's not a game” (you'll come across that phrase). The “game” involves making adjustments in timelines to affect the future welfare and/or extinction of whole races. Some beings treat it as a big game, while others are more concerned about the welfare of the “small brain” races. Among the more advanced beings are the “Factions”, the ones playing the leading roles in the “game that's not a game”.

The most superior being of all is the Universe itself, who makes His presence known in our galaxy though what's know as the “Black Eye”, the giant black hole at the centre of our galaxy.

Sometime during the formation of humanity, a mistake or accident occurred that resulted in humanity becoming an unusually ambitious and warlike race. It also made them suitable candidates to be sent to other times and places to interact with local populations to manupilate their history, as in our story.

Thus, our main character accepts a contract with a “Faction” for whom Houston is acting as an agent. After receiving intensive Samurai training and gaining other skills, he is downloaded into a human-like body on a planet sometime in our distant past, that's inhabited by at least four different human-like races, as a member of one of those races. The local population has reached a level of sophistication approximating our 19th century. He has also had the local language downloaded into his brain, as well as an inner “encyclopedia” of local knowledge. Then, he's placed at just the right place at the right time to enter society as a hero. Of course, to complicate things, there's another Faction already at work there with a conflicting agenda.

That last paragraph is a vast oversimplification: he actually makes several arrivals on the planet, involving a lot of trial and error. One of those arrivals is to the even more distant past, when the local population is in their stone age. Though that story is brushed over very quickly, he spends quite a number of years of their time teaching them basic civilisation skills and saving them from extinction. Actually, they did become extinct because of a wrong choice on his part, but Houston enables an alternative time-line, and they're saved. All that is a part of the preliminary learning experience.

The book is full of creative applications of time-and-space theories and ideas about alternate time-lines. One more device I should mention is the “SAT-mine”, a giant spherical force field that has the potential of totally erasing ones existence, adjusting the time-line so as to totally exclude that person, and any effect they might have had on anything; so they were never born. They are meant to be a deterrent against destroying the fabric of space and time, but too often they're used against those altering the time-line in ways disagreeable to certain very powerful forces; which Deceneus is in constant danger of doing. If he were erased, an entire race of beings on that planet would also cease to exist because, remember, it was he who saved them from extinction back during the stone age. Deceneus still wants to save the local “small brain” races from extinction, which puts him in conflict with the Factions.

So, that's the premise and the setting of the story. Because of Florian's narrative style, it took some effort to read through parts of it without taking a rest now and then, and a few of the stretches, ones involving local politics, were so long that I began to wonder if they were going anywhere; but they were necessary to the story, which was so superb and worth the effort that I'm giving it five stars.

Review: Somewhither, by John C. Wright

After reading the preview of the first chapter on Wright's blog page, I couldn't wait for this book to come out. Now, I can't wait for book two.

In the first chapter, Ilya goes to his dad with a question that must be answered, expecting the usual brush off response. He's one of those dads that seems aloof, non communicative, but demanding of obedience, with high expectations of a top notch highly disciplined fighting machine at the end of a program of rigorous training that he puts his sons through. Training for what...? That's part of his dad's secretive nature. But hidden somewhere in that dense forest of hardwood is actually a fatherly heart that cares. So, Ilya expects a brush off response, and he appear to be getting just that. He probes for more, while his dad probes him in return for the intent of the question. Then, suddenly, his dad springs to his feet, barks out a series of orders, inducts him into the order of the Knights Templar and Ilya's childhood is over. That's not a spoiler, I hope. It's only the first chapter.

I also can't wait for the last book in the series, because I want to see his dad's response to the long tale that Ilya is going to report to him.

In the course of the story, Ilya makes other discoveries about himself. I like stories where there are hidden facts about oneself that are to be discovered, like Harry Potter finding out who he really is, and Frodo realising that that old ring that's been sitting in the top drawer of the desk all this time is, in fact ... -- well, you get the picture. There are some pretty amazing things to be discovered about Ilya as well.

The premise of this story is the answer to the question Ilya went to ask his dad in the first chapter, "How many universes are there?" Some proponents of the Many Worlds Interpretation say there's one for every atomic particle that ever made a wrong turn. According to Wright, there's one for every time God changed the course of history by whatever act he did, whether it be bringing the world wide flood, confusing the languages, delivering the children of Israel from Egypt (I could go on, but some of them could be construed as spoilers) -- there's always a world that splits off in which that didn't happen.

I finished the book, thinking it was awfully short. I went to the Amazon Kindle page so as to check the size of the book, and to my surprise, it was 590 pages!

Anyway, although I did grimace at some of Ilya's boyish ways and his occasional thickheadedness, it was a page turner (or in my case, a screen swiper). Like I said, I'm waiting for the next one...

Click on the cover image above to get to the Amazon page.

The Memories of Geoffrey Hughes

I've just completed a short story, which you should be able to read here.

I suppose you could call it a cross genre Science Fiction / ghost story. It's not a horror story, not into things like seances or occult, just includes a wee ghost. I think you'll like it.

New Release: The Eurasian

A few days ago, I released my novel, The Eurasian, which I have been working on for over two years. It's my fifth full length one, and I suppose it's too early to judge if it's my best. It took the longest to write, because some parts were difficult. Some of the settings were rather daunting, so I had to take long breaks from it to let it settle, and come up with more inspiration and do research. I hope I've done a good job.

Right now, it's a free download at Smashwords.com, and $0.99 at Amazon Kindle (they don't allow me to make it free there).

What follows is the longer description:

The world of the late 21st century is divided between Greater China, the Western Block, the Islamic Block and the Southern Free States of Africa and South America. The Western Block is dominated by the multinational corporations, who have created a paradise for its citizens -- so everyone thinks.

Mickey O'Brien is the Eurasian, half Asian and half Irish. He has a problem with that, because all his friends are fully Asian. However, no one has actually met each other -- only their virtual projected images they show on their on-line classroom environment. He and his classmates meet each other for the first time as they go on a class trip to America. It turns out they all had things to hide.

In America, they accidentally discover what the Multinationals have been trying to hide. Their hover van is hijacked, and they are left trapped in the great American outback, a vast area of what was once U.S.A., now divided between countless republics. Some are Nazi, some are militant Christian and other redneck cowboy states, some Native American Nations, Mafia kingdoms, etc etc. The wild west is again wild. Once having stumbled in, can they ever find their way out again?

It's a story of finding out what's real, and discovering true faith as they become involved in an espionage war trying to prevent a Nazis takeover.

The Eurasian, 7th installment: Chapters 13 & 14

This is the last installment I'll be posting for a while. It's as far as I've got so far.

For those of you who haven't looked at it yet, it's a "dystopia" (the opposite of utopia). It probably should come with a warning label: those with nationalistic feelings about the future of certain North American and Asian countries might might be offended. Or, it could be taken as a warning. Other than that, there is a lot of action and adventure.

If you haven't begun reading from the beginning, you still can. All the chapters are posted in this blog.

Chapter 13

Annie ol' Iron

'So long, Pipsqueak, I'll really miss you!' said Albert as he gave him a hug.

'I miss you too, you Hulk!'

'Just don't give away all your clothes.'

'Don't worry la!'

The rest shook hands and hugged, as the old bus revved it's diesel engine and Philip, Mickey, Yorba Linda, Yakov and the rabbi finally boarded. They took seats near the back.

Most of the windows didn't have any glass. The door that once worked on a hydraulic pump, now just sat in open position so the ticket collector could run and jump on as the bus started moving. The seats had one time been luxurious recliners, but the buttons no longer worked. They were covered with so many patches it was hard to tell their original colour.

Soon, they were travelling through mountainous wilderness. Every time they went uphill, the diesel engine's transmission made a very loud noise, as though complaining of the hard work.

* * *

The bus stopped at every small town. In some places, it made several stops. The people's baggage consisted of baskets of produce, or chickens as often as it did backpacks or suitcases.

About one hour into their journey, they came to a bigger road, and turned left.

More up and downhill grades -- more complaints by the transmission.

* * *

After repeated warnings that it had had quite enough of this up and downhill nonsense, the engine finally made good on its threat, and stopped.

The passengers got off, stretched their legs, or stood, or sat beneath the shade of a large tree that conveniently grew by that stretch of highway while the driver, with the help of the ticket collector, tinkered with the engine.

'It happens,' said Rabbi Solomon.

About an hour later, they were back on the road again.

* * *

They made a lunch stop at a village along the highway. Most of the passengers got something from a small shop that sold fry bread and things to go with it. However, Mrs. Kanter had packed something kosher for their lunch, so they had that.

* * *

The bus broke down a second time about an hour's walk from Globe. However, it took one hour to realise that it was going to take longer to fix this time, and to realise that had they walked, they'd be there by now. So, the second hour was spent in walking.

It was mid afternoon, but too late to think of travelling onward that day, so they found lodging at a bed and breakfast.

The rabbi bought a large bag of eggs, and the landlady was kind enough to hard-boil them. They would be a good source of protein during the journey when kosher food would be hard to find.

Over a supper of boiled eggs and toast, the rabbi said, 'There are two ways to go from here. The way South leads near Tuscan, which is in the Multinational Zone. Because of the garbage recycling industry, there are two or three Mafia families vying for control, so there are risks. I suggest taking the way through Safford.'

'There are Mafia controlled areas there as well,' said Yakov.

'They are easier to avoid.'

* * *

There wasn't even standing room on the bus, not so much as to get a toe hold while clinging to the door.

That didn't matter, as there were other forms of transport, mostly consisting of converted pick-up trucks. They each had two wooden benches running down both sides of the covered bed, so that the passengers sat facing one another, with the baggage stacked in between. The drivers ranged from old men to grannies to people who would have been considered too young to drive in any civilised part of the world. Some of them sported outlandish paint jobs, often a spray painted mural, or fancy graffiti, such as used to adorn the back sides of public buildings and underpasses of the cities of yesteryear.

The first few to pass were quickly filled by those who had failed to gain a toe-hold on the bus. Finally, there was a car with room for five more. The rabbi had a few words with the driver, a girl who couldn't have been a day older than twelve. Two younger boys sat with her in the front. The spray painted lettering on the side read, 'annie ol' iron'. Underneath were the subtitles: 'scattered shower', and 'light breeze'.

Mickey thought he remembered his Grandpa Abe singing a song with a title like that. He couldn't imagine what the weather conditions had to do with it.

There was, indeed, room for five, but not by standards back at home. Philip had to sit on top of Yorba Linda, Yakov, on the tail gate, while Mickey sat on some of the luggage in the middle. The rest of the passengers found hardly enough room to put their feet on the floor.

Besides the three children up front, there was one grown up passenger occupying the window seat.

Once everyone was securely on, the truck took off.

'Damn kid driver,' muttered a man with a few days growth on his chin.

As soon as Mickey took notice of him, he went on, 'What do ya think of this place? Weird huh? Let kids like that drive for a living! And who in hell would name their kid Annie ol' Iron?'

Before Mickey could ask for clarification, he had broken out into the song:

Any ol' iron, any ol' iron

Any, any any ol' iron

You look neat, talk about a treat

You look so dapper from your napper to your feet

Dressed in style, brand new tile

And your dad's old green tie on

But I wouldn't give you tuppence for your ol' watch and chain

Ol' iron, ol' iron

Nya ny-ny-nya nya nya, nya ny-ny-nya nya nya,

Nya ny-ny-nya nya nya, ol' iron!

'Where are you from?' asked the rabbi.

'Albuquerque,' said the man.

'New Mexico Albuquerque?'

'Only one there is!'

'Okay, maybe you're from there. Where do you live now?'

'I live in Albuquerque! I'm on my way home right now!'

'How do you propose to get in?'

'Same way I came out! A little known secret. I could tell ya, but then, I'd have to kill you! Ha ha!'

The rabbi responded with uplifted eyebrows and a slight nod, but had no more questions. The other passengers kept to themselves. Some acted like they didn't understand English.

They were speeding through dry wilderness, not slowing down for the bumps.

The strange young man kept muttering, 'Damn kid driver!'

At one point, the man grabbed a bar that ran along the ceiling. His sleeve slipped down, and Mickey noticed, pushed as far up his arm as it would go, an ID bracelet.

About an hour into the journey, they passed a small town. Two people got off, including the one sitting in the front. Annie ol' Iron came around to collect the fare from the one who got out from the back and invited the rabbi to sit in the front. Mickey sat down next to Yorba Linda and Philip, where the rabbi had sat, and Yakov took the seat vacated by the other passenger.

Yorba Linda said, 'Philip, could you move over onto Mickey? My legs are getting numb.'

He moved over.

After they got going again, the strange man grabbed the ceiling bar again.

Mickey whispered just loud enough for Yorba Linda and Philip to hear, 'Take a look at the man's wrist.'

Yorba Linda whispered, 'Oh my god! He was right!'

* * *

Now that Mickey wasn't blocking his view of the passengers across from him, the man seemed to take in interest in Philip.

'Where you from, kid?'

'Huh?'

'Where are you from?'

'Er -- Dinetah.'

Good answer, though Mickey.

'Dinetah? Where's that?'

'Across the desert.'

'Oh. Where you going?'

'A visit.' Mickey could tell Philip was trying to put him off with clipped answers.

'A visit? To who?'

'Er -- uncle.'

Philip looked outside at the passing scenery, at an angle that was as far off from the strangers face as he could.

'Can we be friends?'

Philip turned to Mickey and said in Thai, 'Kit yang ngai khon ni?' ('What do you think of this man?')

'Plaek.' ('Strange,') answered Mickey.

They kept up a conversation, alternating between Thai and Chinese until the man lost interest.

* * *

About noon, the car pulled off the road by a stream. There was enough flat ground to drive just a little bit upstream. There they parked the car, and everyone got out and sat down with whatever food they had brought.

The five chose a spot just slightly upstream from the car, away from the road, overlooking the stream. The car blocked the view from the highway. Not far from them, but closer to the bank of the stream, the driver and her two young brothers also settled down. Not far from them, again, was the man from Albuquerque.

Rabbi Solomon had the bag of eggs, another of fruit and a loaf of bread. He passed everyone an egg and let them help themselves to the bread. They ate them as sandwiches.

'Normally they go only to Silver City, but I've persuaded our young driver to take us all the way to Las Cruces.'

'She's willing to go there?' said Yakov.

'She knows how to get around. Look at that fire-arm the boy has.'

They looked. The older boy, probably about nine, had a revolver sitting next to him.

'He sits next to his sister in the cab, and holds that thing between his legs the whole way, with both hands, like he knows how to use it.'

'How did you persuade them?' asked Yakov.

'I offered them my old radio phone. Also, she'd rather be plying the road between Las Cruces and Albuquerque anyway. More lucrative. She just needed the excuse to make the break.'

'What about their home?'

'That car is their home. Their father, a man named Joe Iron, was bumped off by the Mafia. Their mother was forced to work in a whore house. These three got away in their dad's car and learned about life the hard way.'

'So her name really is, Annie ol' Iron?'

'That's right. Her two brothers are and Scattered Shower and Light Breeze.'

'Certainly had an imagination,' said Yakov.

The man from Albuquerque looked like he was taking an interest in the three siblings.

'Nice place, hun?' they could hear him say.

The three ignored him.

'And our friend here,' said Yakov. 'Do you think he's really from Albuquerque?'

'Of course he is,' said the rabbi. 'He's not from the Free Zone. He makes himself stick out like a sore thumb.'

'And, he's got an ID bracelet,' said Mickey.

'How does he get in or out?' asked Yakov.

'That's what I'd like to know,' said the rabbi.

The older boy had handed the gun to his sister, and was now getting undressed, keeping his sister and younger brother between him and the man -- who couldn't seem to keep his eyes off him. He got into the water and swam about for a while. And then got out.

He dressed himself, and then took the gun back from his sister.

She began undressing the younger boy. Then she undressed herself, and they went in. She began bathing her brother.

The Albuquerque man couldn't contain himself. He got up, and immediately the boy did as well, holding the gun in both hands, pointing it down with his legs spread apart -- not at all like a kid playing at cowboys.

'Is it okay if I join you?' asked the man.

'Don't you go near my sister!' ordered the boy.

Mickey started to get up.

'Relax,' said the rabbi. 'The boy has a gun.'

The girl in the water was standing up, and had grabbed hold of a switch-blade that hung around her neck. She had the look of a big sister facing up to a school yard bully.

'Hey! That's a big toy you have there!'

The boy was pointing the gun at him with both hands, arms stiff, one leg behind the other to brace himself.

'Wa-a-a,' whimpered Philip.

'Just sit still,' whispered the rabbi.

'C'mon, kid,' the man began moving towards the boy, 'you're not really going to ...'

Blam!

The smoke cleared. The boy brought the gun back down to eye level. The man lay sprawled on the ground with a hole in his chest.

The girl quickly dressed herself and her youngest brother. The older one maintained his poise, feet spread apart, gun in both hands pointed down.

The other passengers, after a brief glance, went back to their lunch.

Philip sprinted a few yards away behind some bushes, and vomited. The rabbi put the food away, including the half eaten sandwiches, for later. No one had the stomach for it now.

The older boy picked up the Albuquerque man's backpack and lay it among their own things, while Annie and the youngest went through the man's pockets.

Mickey took note that Annie found the bracelet, and worked it until it came off the man's wrist.

* * *

On the way back to the car, Philip lingered by the body. He just stood, gazing at the frozen facial expression. That moment seemed like an eternity.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and the rabbi's gentle voice.

'It is tragic when it happens like this. Indeed, a world has come to an end. But, this is the path he chose. Come.'

He walked back to the car in the embrace of the rabbi.

* * *

Now, there was room on the bench for Philip, though the thought of what it cost took away the joy.

As they drew near to Silver City, more seats became available at far less cost. Yakov took his turn sitting in the cab with the three children, while the rabbi sat in the back.

Besides the last of the passengers getting off, and Mickey taking a turn in the front, nothing memorable happened in Silver City.

From Silver City, the rabbi had said, they'd be taking mountain roads for safety, even if the straight roads through the valleys would be quicker. The latter went through more check points.

* * *

Mickey found the three not very communicative, not even among themselves. What little talk that went on revealed that the older one -- nine years old by Mickey's judgement -- was name Scattered Shower, though they called him 'Scat', and the five year old, 'Breeze'.

They were in a mountainous area, with a few curves in the road. Annie seemed to be taking extra care, not driving as fast as before, slowing down, Mickey thought, more than was necessary at each curve. Scat continued to sit very stiffly, next to Mickey, with both hands holding the gun hidden between his knees. Breeze was softly singing some local popular tune.

Being that they were moving along slowly, instead of taking the curves at a dangerous speed, Mickey took the time to admire the view.

'Scat! Hand grenade!' Annie shouted suddenly.

Before Mickey could comprehend what was happening, the car had come to a screeching halt. Scat had thrown Annie a hand grenade from the glove compartment, and had clamoured onto Mickey's lap, thrust his upper trunk out the window, and was firing the revolver, crushing Mickey's chest with his behind with every shot. Meanwhile, Annie had thrown the gear-stick into reverse, and was likewise thrusting her upper body out her window as she virtually stood on the accelerator, propelling the car backwards.

Mickey barely caught a glimpse of a large tree branch blocking the road ahead with some men standing around it. Then, that scene was obscured by the explosion of Annie's hand grenade, which cleared out both the branch and the men. Annie and Scat pulled themselves back in again, the gear was thrust into first and Annie roared on full speed ahead. All the while the five year old was bouncing up and down on the seat, shouting something unintelligible.

When Mickey finally gathered his wits, they were racing full speed down the road beyond the danger.

'Scat! Why you only fire four shots?' Annie said.

'No more bullets.'

'How many times I tell you - load it again each time you use it! Load it right now, dammit!' She was almost screaming the words out.

Scat sullenly opened the carriage, removed the empty cartridges, threw them abruptly past Mickey's face out the open window, and took six more cartridges out of the glove compartment.

'Huh! Scattered Shower -- should'a called you Scatter Brain!' Annie muttered.

Mickey began to realise that some of the bumps were not from the road but from a very flat tire on the left front side.

'Curse it! Shrapnel in the tire!' said Annie.

But she didn't so much as slow down. Probably still too dangerous to stop, Mickey presumed.

They slowed down near a wrecked pick-up similar to theirs, that had rolled off the highway. On a second look, Mickey could see the unconscious driver still in it.

'Scat, quick, help me,' said Annie.

Scat was still pouting.

Annie looked at Mickey and said, 'You and your friends help. Come Breeze. Scat, you stand guard.' She took a tire iron and some tools from under the seat.

Mickey met the others getting out the back.

'Wow!' said Yorba Linda.

'Good moves!' said Yakov.

'I told you, they know their way around,' said the rabbi.

Philip was just wide eyed and speechless.

Both the rim and the shrapnel ridden tire looked beyond repair. But Annie was already at work cranking away at the lug nuts of one that was sticking up in the air. Breeze was going through the pockets of the unconscious driver.

As each tire was removed from the axle Mickey and Yakov took them back to the car. The rabbi checked the driver for vital signs.

While Yakov helped change the tire, and Annie and Breeze, with Philip began removing other usable parts, the rabbi, Yorba Linda and Mickey moved the unconscious driver carefully out of the cab, and to a place where he could lie more comfortably.

'He won't live long, but at least he can die with dignity,' said the rabbi. He placed a bottle of drinking water in his hand.

Before leaving, he checked for vital signs once more, but there weren't any. However, he left the water where it was.

With everything that wasn't too heavy to carry now loaded in the back with the passengers, they were off again. This time, it was Yorba Linda's turn in the front.

* * *

Philip was finally encouraged to take a turn in the front. At least he was confident of not being shot himself, having observed their survival instincts at work.

He sat in the middle, with Scat sitting by the window on his right, and Breeze on his left. Scat was still in a bad mood, ever since being scolded for not fully loading the gun, and from subsequent browbeatings by his sister.

However, Philip being more their size, Annie was surprisingly conversant. They knew nothing of the world beyond a few of the neighbouring republics, and just a little bit about the MCZ. It was like a different planet.

Philip thought it was probably okay to think of the MCZ as a different planet, as he was almost of that opinion himself. However, Annie and Breeze seemed eager to hear about China and other parts of the world, so Philip had been giving them a geography lesson. It was hard to tell whether Scat was taking any of it in or not, as he just sat sullenly at his post.

It was evening. The traffic had been becoming heaver the closer they came to Caballo Lake. Now they were almost at a stand still.

Annie had seemed to lose interest in the geography lesson, as her attention appeared to be on whatever was ahead. They were approaching a bend.

'Oh my god! Mafia check point!'

Not many cars ahead, just around the bend, were steel oil drums set up. Men with automatic weapons were standing guard, and were stopping cars, one by one, as they passed.

'Scat, look in the man's bag and see if there's anything they might take.'

Scat didn't move. Neither did the traffic.

Suddenly, Scat said, 'That's Ito! He killed Papa!'

Philip had never heard a kid's voice exude so much hate.

'He'll kill us too if you don't hide the gun!'

'I kill him first,' shouted Scat.

'No!' Screamed Annie. 'You can only shoot six times! His friends got Kalashnikovs -- they'll kill us all!'

The screaming attracted the attention of an important looking man with a pistol in his holster. He began walking slowly towards them.

'Give me the gun Scat!' Annie made a lung for Scat.

'You're not tell'n me what to do! I've got the gun now! I'll kill Ito!'

At that he lunged his body out the window and held the gun up.

'Die Ito!'

Bang!

Now everything happened at once. Ito fell against a car with a hole in his chest. People with machine guns took positions behind other cars and oil drums. Annie dragged Breeze out the driver's door. Philip followed.

He saw his backpack and thought he'd better take it.

Annie and Breeze went straight across several rows of traffic to the other side. Philip went around to the back to meet the others.

His back pack was heavier than he expected.

He met the others, and they ran up the road in the direction they had come.

Mickey said, 'Don't worry, I got your back pack right here, Philip.'

'Huh?'

They could hear Scat's revolver fire and that of the bigger guns.

Up ahead, more men with guns got off a covered lorry.

'This way!' shouted Yakov, signalling them towards the ditch at the side of the road.

The men with guns ran past them and began shooting at those at the checkpoint.

The five got down into the ditch, and began moving back towards the checkpoint.

Philip took a peep above the top.

'For goodness sake, get down!' said Yakov.

It was too late. Philip had seen it -- the limp body of Scat draped through the open window of the cab, riddled with bullets holes, a big man dragging Annie and Breeze, both kicking and screaming, and throwing them into a van.

The moment he brought his head down, the sky above filled with a bright yellow cloud, and the ground below hit him in the face. The bang was so loud he couldn't hear much else for a while.

* * *

Yakov judged it safe to emerge. They did, and sure enough, the battle seemed to be over. The blast had eliminated most of the resistance.

'Annie's in that van,' shouted Philip. There were two vans parked together.

The van seemed in tac but the big man that Philip had seen lay sprawled near the driver door.

Annie and breeze were inside, safe and sound.

The men from the lorry seemed to have taken control of the checkpoint, but were ignoring them.

Philip approached Annie. 'Really sorry about Scat,' he said.

Annie was close to tears, but she kept a stoic face. 'Yeah -- he was so stupid!' Then she broke down as Philip embraced her.

'So, what to do now?' said Yorba Linda.

'These vans seem to be vacant,' said Yakov.

'Good idea,' said the rabbi.

After some consultation, the five took one van, while Annie and Breeze took the other.

* * *

Yakov drove, the rabbi sat beside him, and the others sat in seats near the front, as the rear had no windows.

'Here's your backpack,' Mickey said to Philip.

'But I have my backpack -- wait -- this isn't mine.'

'Where did you get it?'

'From the front of Annie's pickup.'

They looked inside.

'This is that man's backpack. Here's his ID bracelet!' said Mickey.

'Oh my God!' exclaimed Philip.

'And a My Own World headset, and look, an e-tablet!'

'Oh good,' said Yorba Linda. 'We could use an extra e-tablet.'

* * *

The van was petrol powered. Before they left town, Yakov drove into a filling station and got a full tank, but only after enquiring where the local oil was refined, and sniffing a sample of it that the attendant had on hand. Likewise, the attendant weighed the coins Yakov gave him to make sure that they had the proper amount of gold embedded in the centre.

It was getting late. The rabbi knew of a park where people could safely park their motor homes for a small fee. They decided to make for that.

Even though he had checked all the fluid levels, after driving a while, Yakov began having doubts about the state of the motor.

* * *

Mickey had copied the Bible from one e-tablet to the other, so both he and Yorba Linda were reading.

Philip slipped into the seat behind the rabbi.

'Rabbi, did you see what happened to Scat?'

'Indeed, I did. Another tragedy -- two the same day.'

After a pause, Philip asked, 'Was that the path he chose?'

The rabbi thought a while.

'Some have more liberty to choose their path than others. I'd say the man this morning had more paths to choose from. Scattered Shower had only a few, if any. Each one will be rewarded in the world to come by what choices they had, and which path they chose. The Holy One, blessed be He, shines the light of His Shechinah down the path that leads to Himself. The one who glimpses that light however faintly it filters down to him, if he follows, has taken the right path -- however far that path will take him. He or she will be rewarded in the world to come. If it leads him all the way to the Shechinah in the person of His Messiah, then blessed is that person both in this life and in the world to come.'

* * *

They reached the caravan park, paid the fee for one night, and parked. The rabbi and Yorba Linda occupied the two front seats, which reclined all the way for sleeping. The others laid out their bedding on the carpeted back end of the van. They were off again at morning light.

Chapter 14

Uncle Rodrigo

A few hours into the journey, Yakov's doubts concerning the state of the motor were confirmed. It had stopped for the second time, and this time, it wouldn't start, no matter what they did.

'Even if I manage to fix it, it won't go far,' said Yakov. 'There's a fundamental problem inside the engine.'

They gathered their backpacks and were off. Mickey carried the two, one in front and one in back.

Fortunately, they weren't far from sources of water. A river ran not far from the highway.

They walked on for three hours.

* * *

On the other side of the wire fence running along the highway, was an old air strip. A small two engine transport plane sat next to a hanger.

'See if that plane is available,' suggested the rabbi. 'If he could take us all the way, it would save us untold hassle with border crossings and Mafia checkpoints.'

'Hmmm,' responded Yakov. 'Not to mention, time.'

They looked for a way in.

The gate was further down, but it was locked. The place looked deserted. Further on, they found a gully that left a gap under the fence. There were bits of barbed wire hanging down, intended for discouraging intruders, but they were easily pulled out of the way. They all crawled under and made for the hanger and control tower.

They found a man sleeping in a hammock strung between a landing gear and a hatch under the fuselage.

'Sir,' shouted Yakov. 'Are you the owner of this plane?'

'Yeah,' said the man, sleepily. 'What of it?'

'Can you take us to Texas?'

'No fuel,' he said. 'No delivery until next week.'

'Nothing at all?'

'I could get you up in the air, and maybe a ten minute joyride, if that's all you want.'

Yakov threw his hands in the air.

They turned around to leave.

'Hang on,' said Yakov. 'Could you land this on a straight stretch of road like that out there?'

'Yeah, but then we'd be stuck. It's no place to leave a plane.'

'Where you'd be stuck would be next to a van, filled to the brim with gasoline.'

'Hmmm!'

'Then, we take off again and head for Republic of Mexas.'

'Okay...'

They settled on a price and filed on to the aeroplane. The rabbi joined them, although he had originally planned to go only as far as Las Cruces.

It was a transport plane, with just enough seats near the front for the group The rest was cargo space. They taxied, took off and banked around to follow the highway in the direction they came from.

They saw the van by the side of the road far ahead, and landed. Yakov and the pilot made several trips back and forth, siphoning fuel into a tank and returning to pour it into the aeroplane's fuel reserve. Then, they took a cue from Annie ol' Iron and removed everything else from the van that could possibly be useful, including the tires and seats.

Then, they took off again. Later, they made one more refuelling stop.

* * *

They were flying at a very low altitude.

'Are we approaching Milfred already?' asked Mickey.

'No,' said the pilot. 'That fence you see over there is the boundary line between the Free Zone and the MCZ. It's not that we're in danger, or anything, but we pilots feel that it's a good idea not to show up too brilliantly on their radar screens -- in case they get any ideas. Also, it's to avoid accidentally flying over.'

'Why?' asked Yorba Linda.

'For us, they're a no-fly zone. When we navigate near places like this, we have to know when to change course, so we don't even look like we're about to fly over. Otherwise they shoot us down before we get to their border. The rule we follow is, never go in a straight line towards MCZ territory when within fifty miles.'

"Wa!' cried Philip.

Mickey looked. Philip had on the stranger's head set, and he had managed to slip his hand into the ID bracelet.

'What is it?'

'I see lots of lines, and writing over there!' he pointed towards where the fence was visible.

'That's the MCZ, isn't it?' said Yorba Linda.

'Hondo, Texas,' said Philip.

'How did you know?' asked the pilot.

'The letters on the ground. This head set turns it into a map! Over there, Surveillance Headquarters, sector five, level three, and over there -- wait! The more I look at something, more info -- people in that house, named Smith, Alan and Hellen, children's names are ...'

'You see all that in the VR head set?' asked Yakov.

'That's more than mine ever showed me,' said Yorba Linda.

'Let me see,' said Yakov.

'Fading out now,' said Philip.

They had gone on, past the fenced in area.

'But the man this ID bracelet belong to, his name, Morton Carson.'

'Carson did you say?' said Yorba Linda.

* * *

They could see the town of Milfred before them. At Yakov's request, the pilot flew around until they spotted the communications tower. Then he made preparations to land at the small airport.

'How long will you stay around?' the rabbi asked the pilot.

'Until I can get another payload.'

'I just might have something for you, so don't go anywhere in a hurry.'

'Right.'

They landed. The five disembarked, and went off in search of the communications tower. They could see the top of it over the roofs.

* * *

The town seemed a lot like those they had been seeing -- simple tarmac road, no footpath other than hard dirt packed down by constant foot traffic, shop fronts of family run business, but here, a lot more more green in the landscape, and the houses of wood rather than adobe.

Like Cactus Head and Whiteriver, most of the people they saw were brown skinned. But the general chatter had a more familiar sound to Yorba Linda's ears. It was Spanish.

She'd never been here in her life, but the sounds, the smells, even the way people carried themselves, were somehow a part of her. It all reminded her of home -- of the way her relatives were when they were among themselves, the way she was rebuked for being when she let her guard down in public -- but here no one was ashamed of it.

She had never really been ashamed of it. She had even helped to mentor Monterey Jack into that mould, and it thrilled her when he fit in. She had appended 'Monterey' to his name as a reward. But she had been away from it too long. The sights and sounds of Milfred told her so.

They took a wrong turn somewhere. They realised it when they again glimpsed the top of the communications too far to their left, but the road was veering right.

Yorba Linda asked for directions in Spanish. She wasn't sure how they referred to the communications tower, but when she dropped the name, Rodrigo Sanchez, that brought an immediate response.

'Go back that way, and turn right, and then left.'

They followed as far as they could with that, and asked someone for the rest. Everyone knew Rodrigo Sanchez.

Yorba Linda had arrived home.

* * *

From the outside, the compound looked no different than Hambone's tower in Cactus Head. The gate was locked, there was no bell, but a helpful neighbour yelled Rodrigo's name a few times, and hurled a small pebble at a glass pane.

The door opened, and out came Uncle Rodrigo -- much older looking than Yorba Linda remembered.

'Tio Rodrigo!' called Yorba Linda.

He stopped short, a glow of recognition transformed his face, and he ran to the gate. Suddenly irritated at the wire fencing for preventing an immediate embrace, he fumbled with the key and they were in. Then, they embraced.

'How did you come here?' he asked when they got inside.

'It's a long story, Tio,' she began.

The inside was similar to Hambone's tower, but it was in a much better state of upkeep, not unlike his earlier home in San Jose.

'And who are your friends?'

Yorba Linda introduced all of them. Explaining who each one was, of course, meant telling the long story beginning with her involvement as tour guide to a group of Chinese students, the hijacking, the stay at Francis Baguette's ranch, finding out about Monterey Jack's involvement...

'Ai! That Monterey Jack! Such a handfull isn't he! He even hacks calls into my communication system. But I knew this time he was into something away out of his depth -- not his usual cocky self -- but he wouldn't tell me what. Though he told me you might be coming.'

...then explaining Yakov's presence. It was Yakov's turn:

'Your nephew, Monterey Jack, has more than made up for his mischief. Our organisation has been tracking the same group that hijacked the hovercar. Through him, we've been able to get on an inside track in monitoring their activities inside the MCZ, just in time to uncover a major plot in the making.'

'What organisation are you with?'

'Jewish Defence Association, headquarters in Springdale, New Michigan. The group we've been watching is the American Nazi Republic, which is group consisting of all the Nazi nations. Their plan is to gain access to a MCZ missile base which would give them control over the whole Free Zone -- if not the MCZ.'

'Wow!'

'Now, here's where we feel you might be able to help us...'

After a long discussion and some deep thought, Uncle Rodrigo was willing.

* * *

Yakov had put in a call to David and Joe. The rabbi wanted to be a part of the conversation.

'Has the community been able to purchase grain for Stanley Town?' he asked.

'Yes,' said Joe. 'They're still not sure how to get it there. Because it's expensive to store, they've had it shipped here to Whiteriver.'

'Very good. We have an aeroplane. We can airlift it to them,' said the rabbi.

'And after the airlift,' Yakov continued, 'we'll fly all of you here to Mexas.'

* * *

Joe, David, along with Albert and U Ta boarded the plane along with the sacks of grain. Albert and U Ta were joyfully reunited with Philip, Mickey and the rabbi.

On their first pass over Stanley Town, they dropped leaflets instructing them to clear the main highway. Some of the leaflets fell in the church compound, some in Mr. Stanley's and the rest, along the highway that needed clearing.

On the second and third passes, they flew low and dropped the sacks out the back, just close enough to the ground that most of them didn't burst open.

Then, one more pass to observe the happy residents

Then, they flew straight back to Mexas.