The Eurasian -- sixth installment: chapters 11 & 12

Chapter 11

Stanley Town

Someone had taken a lorry chassis with the driver's seat and steering wheel still attached to the front, fitted it with steel tractor wheels and built a platform around the rest of it for holding goods. The design was neither for speed nor comfort -- only for plodding along steadily with a heavy load until it reached its destination -- the hotter the sun, the better.

The passengers made themselves as comfortable as they could atop sacks of corn and dried beans under a canopy of solar panels. Because those were made to absorb as much heat as they could, that left it relatively cool underneath.

The group consisted of eight, plus Paco the driver, and his helper, Little Tree. Both Riu and Seymour had opted to stay on at the ranch, deciding that the prospect of a fulfilling life there outweighed the risk of never getting home. They were both well on their way to acquiring the Dineh language. That left the four remaining students, their tour guide and their three protectors.

Yakov had managed to find a place to mount the satellite dish on top of the canopy of solar panels, and was monitoring transmissions from Monterey Jack's IP address. The dish was programmed to fix on the signal, and automatically adjust to compensate for any tilts or changes in direction of the wagon.

* * *

They continued to follow the dirt road over the desert. They had been passing through some striking landscape earlier, including parts of what used to be the Petrified Forest National Park, and the Painted Desert. Here, it had ceased to look interesting, or even "painted". It was all flat, dry yellow ground, with just enough variation to make the riding uncomfortable -- not that iron wheels made for a smooth ride anyway.

In some places, the road was so un-discernible, Paco had to use a compass to navigate.

The passengers napped as they could, chatted when they could think of something to chat about, read from Mickey's e-tablet, napped some more. Sometimes one or another would hop off and walk briskly alongside the wagon, but they could never keep it up for very long because the sun was so hot, and climbed back in.

Little Tree distributed the ingredients for a meal, and they ate.

They travelled on.

* * *

The two sat, facing the rear.

'Hot, ah?' commented Albert.

'Yeah, very hot,' said Philip. 'And nothing to see, all same-same.'

'Yeah la, like the ocean, only brown.'

'I like blue better.'

'Yeah,' said Albert. 'Ocean also cooler.'

'Also, see the ocean means going home.'

'Yeah la! Home! China!'

'But I'm still glad we come here,' said Philip.

'Really?'

'Yeah. So much change. Not happy before, now very happy.'

'Yeah, you're right. Me too.'

'And I don't mind you call me "Pipsqueak"! Before...'

'Really? Ha ha! You pipsqueak!' said Albert, jostling Philip.

He jostled him back. 'You Hulk!'

The two broke into laughter.

* * *

They stopped for the night.

Little Tree started a fire and prepared supper.

They ate, and then spread out their sleeping bags under one of the starriest skies they'd ever seen.

This far out in the desert, even the scorpions found life intolerable, but there was enough sustenance for the human sojourners in the wagon.

They slept.

* * *

They had breakfast before sun up.

As soon as there was enough sun for the solar panels, they were off again.

* * *

They took their lunch astride the sacks of dried goods.

They made small talk. They napped.

* * *

Again, they stopped for the night.

* * *

They had breakfast and were off again.

* * *

etc.

* * *

The changes in the landscape was so subtle that they hadn't noticed. Suddenly, they came to some cultivated land. At first, they were plots where someone had started to prepare the soil, but had given up. Further on, there were a few rows of corn that had managed to break through the soil.

Further, again, they came on someone watering a plot from a mule cart with a water tank. It was hard to tell if he were an Indian, or a white man whose skin was darkened by the sun. He wore only a very worn out pair of cut-off jeans.

Paco asked directions to the nearest path, which he had lost, and the man answered in a Mid-West accent. He couldn't seem to keep his eyes off the sacks of grain.

They followed until they came to the road, and followed that past more fields and gardens. There were others out irrigating and weeding. As they went, the fields became more thick and lush. More people working, along with some children. All the clothes looked tattered. Some of the children wore nothing. Most of the people's faces lit up when they saw them coming.

One woman had a small radio, and said she'd phone ahead to tell Mr. Stanley and Father Ryan they were coming.

Further still, there were houses between some of the fields with families about. They were built of adobe, stone, stubble and just about anything else people could get their hands on, including a few old rusted caravans, motor homes and freight containers. Mickey noticed very few clothes lines, and even then, very few clothes hanging out. He suspected that people were wearing all the clothes they had, often with holes worn through in awkward places. Some children wore next to nothing, if anything at all. At least one girl wore woven grass. Others wore old sacks.

All of their skin was brown from the sun, leaving only the hair and the shape of the nose to show if they were, in fact, black, white, Indian or Hispanic. Another thing their skin showed in common was very little meat between that and the bones -- not an overweight person among them.

Soon, the houses began to outnumber the garden plots, further on, they found themselves in what could only be described as a vast shanty town, a jungle of people and houses of every description. Some were two and three stories, depending on the building material.

Here, people were breaking out in cheers as they saw them coming. Children were dancing in the street, some clamouring to get on, others running along ahead, beside and behind the wagon. The passengers responded in like spirit and began to give a few of the younger ones a hand getting up, until the extra weight began to slow them down.

From further ahead came a more official looking procession. The centre of it was a better dress man that could have passed for a rancher in cowboy times, surrounded by bodyguards. Though better dressed, his clothes were far from new.

As soon as they were within earshot, the man in the middle raised his hands and called out, 'Welcome, Amigos Paco and Little Tree! Welcome, your friends as well!'

Paco stopped the wagon, got down and went to the man and they embraced. The others also dismounted and went forward to be introduced. He introduced the man as Mr. Stanley.

Yorba Linda was carrying a small child. Joe, and Yakov each had two. Even Albert picked up one with long hair, wearing threadbare shorts. He wasn't sure of the gender.

'Hi, what's your name?' he asked.

'Johnny.'

'You very light! How old are you?'

'Ten.'

'Ten! But you so...'

'Where you from?'

'China.'

'Is that far from here?'

Now the group of them was walking further towards the centre of the town. Little Tree got into the wagon and drove slowly after -- with a fresh crew of kids.

Not far up the street was a walled compound. They went in, but the crowd apparently all knew they weren't allowed.

'Wait a minute,' said Albert, just as he had sat his new friend down.

He opened his back pack and pulled out a shirt. 'Take this,' he said.

'Wow! You mean it?'

'Yes la. Take it.'

'I never had one of these before, Thanks!'

'Now why didn't I think of that?' said Yorba Linda. The little girl she had been carrying was completely naked. She found a tee shirt that fitted her like a dress.

Philip found that because of his size, several of his trousers fit some of the children.

They all went into the compound with lighter backpacks. It was fortunate that they were right at the gate, so they were able to escape being mobbed.

* * *

In the compound was an assortment of vehicles. A couple looked like armoured troop carriers, the armour consisting of steel plates welded on to a chassis with gun slots. There were also a couple of lorries with a bit of steel plates added on as well, one army tank, and one 16 wheel lorry with a flat-bed rig holding some large object covered in tarpaulin.

Around the periphery were a number of storage sheds and garages, and in the middle of the compound, the nicest two story house they had seen since arriving.

Inside the house was a rather nice living room suite, and a coffee table laden with tea and cookies.

The lack of seating space on the settees was made up by a few wooden chairs. Even then, Philip and Albert sat on the floor.

'This all used to be national park land,' Mr. Stanley was continuing the conversation he began with David and Joe, 'all except the resort town along the highway, San Pablo Mission. When the system collapsed, people who had lost everything because of the great recession, all flocked in and began grabbing land and turning it into farms. My dad got this piece, between the town and the desert, that we're sitting on right here. Now, a lot of people weren't quick enough, and had no place to go. My dad was kind hearted, and let them set up camp. Maybe he was stupid, like the other farmers say he was, but a lot of people would have had no place to go. Now, my dad already had a business in the town, a gun shop. He did pretty well, in spite of the recession, and even bought a few of the business as other people went bankrupt. Because he was already doing well, it didn't matter that much to him that so many people were settling on his land that he couldn't run a farm the normal way. Instead, he took over the town, merged it with the squatter community, and called it Stanley Town.

'At first, things went okay. The farmers in the other places came to Stanley Town to buy their supplies, which Dad had sources for, such as the army base. We'd buy their produce. When the currency collapsed, they traded their produce for supplies. Then, Dad's sources began to run dry, and the population of Stanley Town got too big. When the Multinationals started to take over, and a lot of the towns and counties declared independence. The farmers that had settled in this area formed the Republic of Arizona, but they decided that Stanley Town was too much of a burden for them. In fact, they tried a couple of times to wipe out our whole population. But we're just too many for that. My dad had the gun selling business, and he'd seen that coming. We fought back.

'Now, since being excluded from the republic, getting food has been a problem.'

'Clothes too, I notice,' said Joe.

'Yeah. That's one of the sources that dried up. We're just too far away from any sources of textiles. In the old days, there were charities that distributed used clothes. Your folks across the desert send us cotton and wool sometimes, but it's just not enough to clothe everyone. Especially when they have to make up space for food.'

'How long will this food last, that we brought?' asked David.

'If we take small bites and chew it every carefully, it might last a month.'

'I notice you grow some, as well.'

'With what we grow, plus what you folks from over the desert send us, and some of our other methods, we might make it through the year, although sometimes, we'll be down to one meal every two days.'

There was a pause. Mickey wondered where the biscuits and tea came from.

'Can you tell us the best way to get to White River?' asked Yakov.

Mr. Stanley though a while. 'I tell you what. In about three days, we'll be making an expedition to a place not far from there. We'll drop you off within walking distance. You'll also get a chance to see how we feed ourselves.'

* * *

They went out through the gate on the way to the San Pablo Mission compound, where they would spend the next few nights and where the food would be stored.

Albert saw Johnny running up, again shirtless, but with another small boy wearing his old shirt.

'Hi! This is my brother, Geoffrey! I let him wear the shirt today, and tomorrow I'll wear the shirt, he wears the pants.'

As Geoffrey leaped extra high with his hands extended, Albert noticed that the shirt was all he had on. Albert picked him up, whereupon he hugged his neck and kissed him.

The two boys were so light, he found it no trouble at all carrying both at the same time.

Not far down the street they came to what was probably once the highway. There were traces of tarmac here and there, as well as parts of a cement foot path running down both sides. Ahead of them was a two story concrete building that had a part of an old sign that said 'Savings and Loan', but it looked like several families were living in it. Joined to that were more buildings that looked like were once a row of shops, with big windows that used to have plate glass. People simply stepped through them without bothering to use the door. One of them still had a very old sign, Men's Clothes, with no trace, whatsoever, of the said clothes. In fact, a young man could be seen inside wearing no clothes.

The group, followed by the electric wagon, turned and went down what was once obviously a prosperous commercial centre, until they came to a walled compound. The sign over the gate said, 'San Pablo Mission'.

Inside, was what looked like an old chapel from the cowboy movies, an adobe structure with a bell set into the top of the front façade. Around the courtyard were other buildings, one of which looked like a school. Here, the crowd obviously felt more welcome, and followed them inside.

There were already a number of people there, including children. Standing in middle was a man wearing a long robe down to his ankles. He reminded Mickey of pictures he'd seen of St. Francis of Assissi.

As a group of people inside immediately set to unloading the wagon, the robed man welcomed them.

'Welcome to the San Pablo Mission!'

'You must be Father Ryan?' said Joe.

'Indeed I am. Come on into the rectory and make yourselves at home.'

* * *

Mickey felt a lot better about drinking cool water than tea and biscuits in the presence of so many thin people.

The only furniture in the room was the long table, with a bench on either side. The rest of the space in the room would be their sleeping quarters, using their own bed rolls that Francis Baguette had given them on the hard floor. They were happy enough with that.

After a cool drink, they chose their spots to put down their bed rolls and their back packs.

Father Ryan was still outside directing some activity. Mickey went out to see what was going on.

He, with a couple of nuns, seemed to be organising a number of children while Paco looked on.

'What's happening?' Mickey asked Little Tree.

'Tomorrow we will take some children from Father Ryan's orphanage to live in Dinetah. There are families who can take an extra child each.'

Soon, he had a row of about twenty children of various ages and degrees of dress or undress. Some looked like brothers and sisters. Fr. Ryan was writing down their names.

'They'll look nice dressed in regular clothes,' said Mickey.

'And a little bit fatter,' replied Little Tree. 'Just don't tell them that yet, or all the children will be crying to go.'

* * *

Supper consisted of pinto beans that were boiled and then fried, rolled up in corn tortillas -- exactly the ingredients they had brought from Dinetah.

'Yes,' continued Fr. Ryan, answering a query by David, 'some children think of a meal as something that happens every other day.'

'Mr. Stanley mentioned some other ways of getting food,' said Joe.

Fr. Ryan laughed, 'He has his ways. You've heard of Robin Hood, haven't you?'

'I get the picture.'

'It sounds like you don't agree with his techniques,' said David.

'I believe if we trusted the Lord more often, rather than resorting to force, we'd see more miracles, such as we have seen.'

'Tell us.'

'One year, a few years ago, we were on the brink of mass starvation, but we cried out to the Lord, and one tortilla, about this size, fed a thousand.'

'Wa!' said Albert, U Ta at once.'

'No!' said Yakov.

'In this very neighbourhood. Ask anyone here, they'll tell you. Another time, about 1000 or so egg laying hens flew over the fence and landed in the poorest area of our town. I never knew hens could fly, but these ones did. Without these and other miracles, our population would be much less than you see it today. And I sincerely believe that if we trusted God, instead of bullets and ammunition, we would see more miracles. I've said so to Mr. Stanley many times.'

U Ta spoke up. 'I see all the people's teeth are very nice and white, but no one has toothpaste, ha?'

'That, my friend, is not a miracle, but just one of the benefits of extreme poverty,' answered Fr. Ryan. 'No one here has ever eaten anything containing sugar.'

'Can't buy sweets?' said Albert.

'No money to buy anything with, and nothing to buy if they did have any money.'

'So,where does Mr. Stanley get his supply of ammunition, then?' asked Joe, 'Even if he did once run a gun shop, I understand his suppliers are no longer in business.'

'Yes,' added David, 'and I think he did have a bit of sugar on hand for our tea this afternoon.'

'Apart from the foundry, he does seem to have a source. I'm afraid I can't tell you much about it, nor how he pays for it.'

* * *

The wagon was loaded, and all the others were in the courtyard to see them off. Paco switched on the electric motor, and the contraption began to move slowly forward.

The remaining children and the two nuns cheered, waved and wept. As the wagon moved down the main street, one of the older children in the wagon led off in a song, and the travellers joined in.

As it disappeared down the other road towards Dinetah, Mickey felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Fr. Ryan.

'I understand you're the one who brought the Bible in electronic format'

'Er -- I guess I did.'

'Thank you very much. It's a most prized commodity.'

'You didn't have a Bible before?'

'Only a very tattered portion of the New Testament that was becoming hard to read.'

* * *

Mickey, Yorba Linda and Yakov were walking down the the main street.

Every now and then, someone greeted them, or a group of children came running.

Yakov asked one man, 'Do you know of an incident where one tortilla feed the whole neighbourhood?'

'Yes sir. I remember that quite well.'

Later, he asked another one.

'Yep. I never ate so much as I did that day.'

Another response farther on: 'I sure do. That was one feast I'll never forget!'

Yakov asked about the hens.

'That's her, right over there. Lays two a day!'

Yakov sighed and shook his head.

When they got past where the original town ended, there were more adobe and other makeshift dwellings, with garden plots along side. Further off, again, there were more fields and vegetable gardens then houses.

Then, in the distance, they saw it: a fence, stretching as far as they could see in both directions.

The closer they came, the more they saw; the barbed wire on both sides, the electric wire running along the top, and, as they got even closer, the men with guns on both sides.

The fence went right over the road without even a hint of a gate. There was a road on the other side that joined the highway and ran alongside the fence. An armoured vehicle sat near the intersection, and another could be seen much further up the ring road.

'Is this a prison camp, or what?' said Yorba Linda.

* * *

Every meal except breakfast was the same; one tortilla with beans rolled up inside, sometimes with a bit of salsa, or a few garden vegetables to spice it up. Breakfast was a small bowl of cornmeal porridge.

It never filled them up, but after a few days, their stomachs stopped complaining. When one was inclined to complain, one only had to look at the people walking about the town.

To Johnny and Geoffrey, who came every day to visit Albert, and usually stayed for lunch, it was a feast.

Just as Johnny said they would, they alternated between the shirt and their original pair of ragged jeans. Then, on laundry day, they showed up wearing nothing. Albert found one more polo shirt, and Philip parted with another pair of shorts.

Now, Philip was down to one pair of trousers, and Albert, one shirt.

* * *

The only light that shone anywhere was what flooded Mr. Stanley's compound, as a rag-tag army was preparing for action. The eight fellow travellers arrived, as appointed, and Mr. Stanley himself directed them to a van near the rear of the convoy. Behind it was something that looked like a home made tank, with guns pointing out on every side.

As they walked towards their conveyance, they could see a flank of armed but un-uniformed men do a right-face at their sergeant's command, and begin marching towards a troop carrier.

Their van was behind the flatbed rig that had the thing covered with a tarpaulin.

Mr. Stanley got into the driver's seat of the van. He got on his radio. 'Are we ready?'

'Car one, ready, Sir!' came an immediate reply.

'Car two, ready, Sir!' came another, on its tail.

'Car three, ready, Sir!'

etc. etc.

'Onward!' said Mr. Stanley, finally.

The convoy began to move slowly forward. It continued slowly down the dirt road through the shanty town, on past some fields and garden plots, and turned right at a four way intersection.

As soon as they went beyond the last garden, Mr. Stanley spoke into the radio. 'Infra-red on, lights off, full speed ahead. Maintain radio silence.'

Everything went black, except for a panel in front of the driver that showed an image of the vehicle ahead of them via the infra-red sensors. They began moving at breakneck speed.

'Where are we going?' asked Yorba Linda.

'On a harvesting expedition,' said Mr. Stanley. 'We plan these very carefully, pick a different place every time, and hit where and when they least expect it.'

After a while, Joe asked, 'How do you managed to keep up your supply of ammunition?'

'I have friends in the right places. That's all I'll say.'

'Can you tell us anything about an incident where Fr. Ryan fed a whole neighbourhood with one tortilla?' asked Yakov.

'Whoah! All I can say is, that's not my department. I wasn't there when it happened. I don't know what happened, or how. The same with Mildred Harper's pot of stew, the flying hens, Juan Verdugo's sack of beans -- all I know is that something happens now and then in this neighbourhood or that to make people there stop complaining, and the babies stop dying for a while. Fr. Ryan thinks they're a sign from God that I should stop doing my job.'

After a pause, he added, 'And tonight, you'll see the sort of miracle I do, the kind that keeps us all alive year in and year out.'

Just a bit further, he said, 'Here we are.'

They could see by the infra-red panel that a car up ahead had turned right.

They all turned, but came to a stop. The screen now showed an elevated view from a high mounted camera. Zooming in, they could see a couple of gun cars advancing towards a fence, shooting some sort of lightning bolts at the ground ahead. Occasionally, an explosion would erupt from the ground.

'Land mines?' said Joe.

'Yep,' said Stanley.

After a while, the whole convoy began to advance slowly.

Up ahead, the gunners were blasting a hole in the fence.

Soon, they were all through to the other side, and they began speeding down a paved road, past grain fields.

'We managed to surprise them again,' said Mr. Stanley. 'No resistance.'

The convoy turned down this way and that, travelling for about an hour down one stretch. It was pitch dark, but they could tell by the curves and slopes that the terrain was hilly. Finally, they came to a stop beside a large wheat field.

Gun cars and troops took up positions along the highway beside the field, and the smaller roads around it.

One group of men went to the lorry with the tarpaulin, and began removing it. Underneath was a harvester, with a trailer. They set up a ramp, someone got into the harvester and drove it down, dragging the trailer. It went straight into the wheat field and began moving up the length of the field at a high speed. In a surprisingly short time, it was all the way to the other end, and making its way back.

'We've been spotted,' came a voice over the radio.

'How many?' asked Mr. Stanley.

'Not a big group. Our men are standing ready. I think they don't dare come closer.'

'Good. Maybe we'll get this field finished and be off before anyone else arrives.'

The harvester finished its job very quickly, and was soon being packed into the back of the lorry, this time, with a trailer full of grain behind it.

Everyone got back into their vehicles, and they were off.

'We always come out a different way from where we went in. We might make one more stop, maybe for some cattle, or sheep. That depends on what our scout came up with. But there's a place just ahead that would be ideal to begin your walk to Whiteriver.'

'We certainly appreciate the lift,' said David.

'And the education,' said Yakov.

'Nothing's too big a favour for my friend, Francis Baguette.

The whole convoy turned to the right, onto another road. Then, at Mr. Stanley's order, they came to a stop.

'This is your stop,' said Mr. Stanley.

They made their good byes, and set off in the direction Mr. Stanley had pointed them to, while the convoy sped off in darkness the other way.

Chapter 12

Whiteriver

Because they had taken a long nap the afternoon before, they were better prepared for the walk. It was mountainous, but fortunately it was more down hill than up. They could hear a stream somewhere to their left.

When it began to get light, they could see they were in a mountain pass. They stopped, had a bit of breakfast of beans and tortillas that one of the nuns had packed for them, enjoyed the view of brown and yellow hills dotted with shrubs, and trudged on.

A sixteen wheel lorry overtook them -- the second one they had seen.

'What would that be carrying?' asked Yorba Linda.

'Wheat, oats, corn,' said Joe.

'They grow enough to ship out?'

'Oh yes. Those fields in Republic of Arizona grow cash crops. They're not subsistence farmers.'

Yakov added, 'All the Stanley Town army did tonight was to bite into their profit margin a little bit. Nobody will go hungry.'

'In fact, they way Mr. Stanley plans the raids, no one gets hit twice,' said Joe.

'For that, they should be thankful,' added David.

'Where do they ship to?' said Yorba Linda.

'Globe, Pleasant Valley, places beyond,' said Joe.

'Anywhere but Stanley Town,' said David.

'Pah! Bunch of greedy pigs la,' said Albert. 'Got lots of food to sell, don't give to starving neighbours!'

'And they try to wipe them out,' added U Ta.

By the time it was full daylight, they had reached the outskirts of Whiteriver. There was a checkpoint along the highway, and an official looking Native American asked them for any ID, and asked them to explain their presence. The students showed their Chinese passports, and explained that Yorba Linda was their tour guide from the MCZ, and their dilemma. The three operatives also showed some identification, and said they knew someone named Thomas Glasser.

The official knew Thomas Glasser and was moved by the story, so allowed them to pass. However, he explained that Whiteriver, while it was a part of San Carlos Apache Republic, was the only part that outsiders were allowed to visit. They could take the road leading Westward into Globe. Joe asked the directions to Thomas Glasser's place, and he explained it to them.

They were off again, into the town. It looked as Native American as Cactus Head. The main road was nicer. There was a lot of space, so even the shops didn't seem to feel constrained to stick close together. Each house had either a garden plot or a shade tree, or both. Some people were out, working in the gardens. Some were minding their shops. Kids were on their way to school. All of them were brown skinned.

'You say there's a Jewish community in this town?' said Yorba Linda.

'In any town that isn't close to a Nazi or a militant Christian republic, look for a Jewish community,' said David.

They turned down the street that the man had told them, and turned again down another. More people, more brown skin.

Another turn. Now, there were a few with whiter faces. There was one old man walking slowly towards them who had a long white beard and wore a black hat and a long coat. He turned in to an adobe building with a Star of David painted on the front.

'This is it,' said Joe.

They caught up with the old man before he reached the door.

'Shalom, Rabbi,' said Yakov. 'Could we come in and rest?'

'From out of town, are you?' said the man.

'Yes, we've come rather a long way. Do you know of anyone named Thomas Glasser?'

'Yes, our president. I expect Tom should be joining us for prayers. I'm Sam Solomon. Will you join us? Perhaps we'll complete a minyan,' he eyed the group, 'though perhaps...'

'Three of us could help make up the minyan,' said Yakov.

'What's a minyan?' asked Albert.

'A minyan is when there are ten Jewish men present, making up a full congregation. Only then, can we begin a religious service,' explained David.

'Well, come in anyway and rest yourselves. So you've come a long way, have you? On foot?'

'Yes. We walked from Republic of Arizona,' said Yakov.

'You need to sit down, then. Do you have a place to spend the night?'

'Not yet.'

'We'll make sure you do before the morning's finished. Come in.'

It was relatively dark and cool inside. The coolness, they realised by now, was a characteristic of adobe brick buildings, as the porous clay retains moisture and releases it just fast enough to cool the air around about. There were seats set up in a semicircle around a raised podium. Four men were already seated. On the walls were numerous plaques in Hebrew. Some looked like diagrams, one with the Hebrew letters shaped so that they resembled a seven tiered candlestick. Directly behind the podium was a tall wooden cupboard with the outline of the two tablets of the Ten Commandments carved, one on each upper door.

Rabbi Solomon turned to the Asians. 'This is, perhaps, your first time in a synagogue? We want you to feel welcome. Take a seat right over here, where you can observe the service.' He indicated a row of chairs along the back. Then, he handed each of them a skull cap. 'Please wear this on your head while you're in here. Afterwards, you can join us for some refreshment.'

Joe followed them to their seats, and said to them, 'Just a couple of things. Remember to always wear a kippa, that's the skull cap he gave you to wear, when you're in a synagogue. Also, when you see someone wearing one of these,' he showed them a tangle of thin leather straps with a small box attached, 'don't try to speak to them. They're praying. Oh -- and one more thing,' he looked at Philip, 'even though he was Jewish, and all that, it's better not to mention Jesus to Jewish people. Some could be a bit sensitive about that.'

'Okay la,' said Philip.

They watched from where they sat. Four more people, including Thomas Glasser arrived -- they heard their three guides greet him as such. Now that they had the minyan they needed, the men tied the thin straps to their heads and their arm, and put a white and blue shawl around their shoulders and head.

'Right -- no talking then, ah?' whispered Albert.

Everything was in Hebrew. A leader said and sometimes sang some prayers, and the others responded, often with a song or a chant. Sometimes they stood silently, mumbling a prayer from a book, bowing every now and then, and often punctuating their prayers with 'Omain'.

Finally, they were finished. The men took off their straps, folded their shawls and began making small talk. They could see the rabbi going around to various ones, introducing them to David or Yakov, or Joe, whichever was closest at hand.

Then, he signalled for the five to come closer. 'We're having breakfast at the home of Mr. Rosenberg, and then you'll be divided up between three families for the night. I'm sure you'll want to take a rest if you've been walking all night.'

He led them outside, and the eight of them, with the rabbi and a couple of others, walked down the road.

* * *

Breakfast consisted of bagels and scrambled eggs.

The three operatives were relating to their hosts the horrific condition in which they found the residents of Stanley Town, while the four Asians and their tour guide revelled in the abundance of food on their plates.

The rabbi sighed, 'Such are the times we live in, in these Divided States of America.'

'These bagels, very nice,' said Albert. 'Had in Singapore, with cream cheese and fish.'

'Smoked salmon?' asked the rabbi.

'I think. Almost like sushi, but -- yeah, smoked.'

'Ah -- lox on bagels with cream cheese,' reminisced Mr. Solomon. 'Used to have them all the time before the Union broke up.'

'Mr. Slessinger sometimes makes cream cheese,' said Mr. Glasser.

'Don't have salmon now?' queried U Ta.

'Too far from the ocean!' said the rabbi.

Mr. Rosenberg added, 'Even if we could ship seafood over such a distance, we're hemmed in by the Multinationals. Won't let us anywhere near the sea.'

'Like a giant prison?' said Mickey.

'A prison big enough for turfs,' said Joe.

'Stanley Town was really a prison within a prison then,' commented Yorba Linda.

'So we understand,' said Mr. Rosenberg. 'I wonder if there's anything we can do for them?'

'We'll have to see,' said Mr. Glasser.

'We did hear some pretty unusual stories there,' said Yakov. 'They claim that with one tortilla, they were able to feed a whole neighbourhood that would have otherwise starved.'

'Indeed?' said Mr. Rosenberg.

'You mean, like in the Christian story of the feeding of the 5000?' asked Mr. Glasser.

'They also claim that a very large flock of egg laying hens flew into town and landed in the poorest homes.'

'A bit of a tall one, that,' commented Mr. Rosenberg.

'The thing is, I went into the neighbourhood myself and asked various of the residents, and they all give the same story,' said Yakov. 'Even Mr. Stanley won't deny it outright.'

'He even alluded to other unexplainable events,' said Joe.

'I've heard of such things happening,' said the rabbi. 'The whole truth, if it were known, would catch us all off our guard.'

'I know where this is leading,' sighed Mr. Rosenberg, 'so let's quit while we're ahead, shall we, Reb Solomon?'

'Very well,' agreed the rabbi. 'But I do agree with you gentlemen that Stanley Town's next miracle should be one of our making.'

* * *

Mickey, Philip and Yorba Linda were taken to stay with the Kanter family, where Reb Solomon also lodged. Albert and U Ta, along with Joe, stayed at Mr. Rosenberg's, while Yakov and David went to stay with Mr. Glasser.

Most of the houses were single storey, but sprawling. The Kanter house had a courtyard in the middle. It was cool under the eves of the courtyard patio, and the three lounged in deck chairs and fell asleep before they had a chance to be shown to their rooms.

They woke up in time for a lunch of cheese sandwiches and salad. Then, Mrs. Kanter showed them to their rooms, one for Yorba Linda, and the other for Philip and Mickey. Mickey and Philip's room actually belong to the two sons of the household, who would be sleeping on the sofas for the night. Yorba Linda would be sharing a room with their teen age daughter.

* * *

The rabbi had arrived at the house in the company of the two boys and the girl. They all gathered for coffee and snacks in the patio, Philip in his sarong, as his trousers were hanging to dry.

'Do you fetch the kids from school?' Mickey asked the rabbi.

'No, they come to the shul every afternoon for Hebrew School, then we come home together,' he answered.

Yosef was Philip's age, Yehuda a few years younger, and Naomi was the oldest of the lot -- better company for Yorba Linda.

'Why you wear'n a skirt?' Yehuda asked Philip.

'Yehuda! Don't be so rude!' chided Mrs. Kanter.

'It's okay la. This, a sarong, we wear around the house in Asia, like pyjamas. I washed my only trousers, so I wear for today.'

'He gave away all his clothes in Stanley Town,' added Yorba Linda.

'Yeah!' Mickey began, 'He would have walked into this town naked himself if we hadn't...'

'Hoi!' exclaimed Philip, as he broke out laughing.

'Oh! Bless your heart!' said Mrs. Kanter. 'Yosef, you have some clothes that don't fit you any more, why don't you fetch them?'

'Sure.' Yosef was just slightly larger than Philip.

'But, for goodness sake, not those tattered jeans. Oh! Get that pair that Aunt Silvia gave you that was too small...'

'Yeah, and you didn't have the guts to tell her. I'll get them.' He got up and went out.

'So, you see?' commented the rabbi. 'Give and it shall be given to you, said the great sage.'

'Do kids in Stanley Town really run around in the nude?' asked Yehuda.

'Some of them,' said Philip. 'Others just with big holes in the back where you see their bum.'

'Ai! Philip!' grimaced Yorba Linda.

'We're starting to talk about what we, as a community can do for the people of Stanley Town,' said Reb Solomon. 'Perhaps we should add clothes to the list of things to take.'

'Oh! We certainly should!' said Mrs. Kanter.

Yosef came back with a small pile of clothes which he plopped onto a chair beside Philip.

* * *

Evening meal for the whole group was served at Thomas Glasser's home. It consisted of roast chicken and potatoes.

'The community council met today, and we came up with a plan,' said Mr. Glasser.

'Tell us,' said Joe.

'We'll do as the middlemen do. We'll approach a farmer in Republic of Arizona, agree on a price for his entire crop, and then have it shipped to Stanley Town. Everyone has pledged enough to offer a good price.'

'How will you get it in?' said Yakov. 'There's not so much as a gate, locked or otherwise. Only a straight fence over the highway in either direction.'

'There must be some way,' said Mr. Rosenberg. 'If we cant get it in directly, perhaps ask them to meet us somewhere up along the border to the desert. Did you say they blew a hole in the fence?'

'They could certainly do it again, if it came to that,' said Joe.

'Anyway, will discuss a few ideas for that when we come to it,' said Mr. Glasser. 'Tomorrow, I and a few of the committee members will go to visit a farm or two.'

'And the next day, our group should move on, perhaps by way of Globe,' said Yakov.

'The bus leaves from the town centre every morning, does it not?' said Joe.

'I'll join you, at least part way,' said the rabbi. 'I can show you where to go.'

'Leaving us so soon?' asked Mr. Rosenberg.

'Ah, yes,' said the rabbi. 'With young Naomi Kanter, I'm leaving your young people in good hands. Her Hebrew and her knowledge of Torah are second to none. Most importantly, she sets a good example for them.'

'You're leaving a woman in charge?'

'As good a Torah teacher as any man!'

'If you know the way, it would be good to have you along,' said Joe.

'Travel between here to Globe, and on past the old New Mexico state line should be quite straight forward,' said the rabbi. 'Beyond that, we must be carefull.'

* * *

The more of Naomi's questions Yorba Linda answered, the stranger the MCZ began to appear, even to herself. It was as though she were explaining it to herself. The picture of the world that the MCZ media painted was, in fact, a fairy tale. Now that she thought about it, such a world was impossible.

'But you sort of knew that, right?' Naomi was already in her night gown, leaning back against her headboard.

'I can't say I really knew it. I had a lot of questions.' Yorba Linda was rubbing on her night cream. 'My Uncle Rodrigo might have known it, and he planted a lot of questions in my mind. And I was a part of a group that refused to keep our VR head sets on all the time, except when we needed information from the Virtual Environment, like how to get to a certain place, and important announcements. Sometimes we just had them on, but programmed to tune out the artificial world. But I still had no idea of the Outer Zone. And Stanley Town! They said that places like that existed only in the Free States.'

'Wow! And everyone just lives in a world they paint for themselves? No one even wonders what it's really like?'

'No one is taught to wonder.' She pulled back the cover of the bed and got in. 'Some of us did ask questions, but there was always an easy answer. And anything that gives rise to questions that can't be answered so easily, the environment just blocks it out -- or they try to, or they make it seem unimportant. Like, the Christian Bible. I didn't know Christianity was Jewish. The Bible we had in MCZ was so -- what shall I say -- sterilised! After landing in Dinetah, I think I read the whole Bible through on Mickey's e-tablet, and it left me in shock! It just didn't fit in with my perception. I couldn't accept it, but I kept reading anyway, telling myself, "It's real. You'd better accept it, or stop calling yourself a Christian." God and the world were all out of shape!

'Then, we had the sweat lodge, and suddenly I saw things differently. God was simply big -- not something that would fit neatly into a package, but bigger than the universe, and bigger than my mind can find easy answers for. I suddenly had the faith to accept that. Since then, I read the Bible through again, and it makes much more sense, like the words of an infinitely big God telling me about things that are really much bigger than my understanding, but only showing me the parts that mean something to me.'

'Wow! That's neat!' responded Naomi. 'Rabbi Solomon talks about that a lot too. Like -- you guys aren't the only ones that live in a sort-of Matrix. I think we all do. We all look for easy answers. But the rabbi teaches that the more we get into the Torah and the Prophets, and do meditation, the bigger the universe gets for us. I mean, there are things there that point in directions -- like -- what you say about Christianity being Jewish and all -- like the rabbi also says, it's more Jewish than Christians think, but it's also more Jewish than we Jews think as well. But -- well -- we have to watch what we say, because not everyone here agrees with the rabbi...'

Mrs. Kanter stuck her head in the door. 'Naiomi, I'm sure Yorba Linda is very tired. Perhaps you should let her get her rest.'

They switched off the light and left themselves alone with their thoughts.

Christianity is also more Native American than I thought, Yorba Linda mused, as she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Because they were already in over their eyeballs, the three operatives chose to include Mickey, Yorba Linda and Philip in their consultation with their local contact agent, Thomas Glasser -- Yorba Linda and Philip, in particular, because of their relationship to Monterey Jack. Mr. Glasser recommended that the rabbi also join them.

They told Thomas and Reb Solomon the whole story of the hijacking, and their communication with Monterey Jack.

'I think I can safely say now,' continued Yakov, 'that the Central West Aryan people are systematically hacking their way into the MCZ defence network, particularly targeting a group of precision missile silos located somewhere outside Albuquerque. My understanding is that this particular system is capable of hitting just about any target in North America.'

'Oi!' exclaimed Mr. Glasser. 'That will give them ultimate power!'

'What sort of missiles?' asked Mickey.

'Neutron "clean" bombs,' said Yakov. 'They just consume anything soft and biological within a quarter kilometre radius, leaving everything else in tac.

'They leave no fallout,' said David. 'That's why they're called "clean".'

'So, if they nuke a place, they can simply move in and take over?'

'That's the size of it.'

Mr. Glasser, Mickey, Yorba Linda and Philip all looked like they were staring at death. Only the rabbi looked unperturbed.

'But,' continued Yakov, 'this should cheer you up a bit: thanks to Monterey Jack, we've been following their every transmission as they've been hacking. Every access code they have, we now have, including their main headquarters.'

'You mean, American Nazi Republic?' asked Thomas.

'That's right.'

'That gives us an advantage then. Let's use it!'

'We've only got the one transmitter, but two or three different satellites to access. We have to keep glued to what they're doing from Monterey Jack's bedroom. What we really need is to pass all this information to JDL headquarters in Springdale, but right now, that's too risky. We have reason to believe the encryption code we were given has been compromised. The other option is to high tale it to Mexas, where Yorba Linda's uncle runs a communications tower for the MCZ, and talk him into letting us borrow it for a spell.'

'I have a satellite transmitter here,' said Thomas. 'If one or two of you want to stay here and keep the ear open on one area of interest while the other transmitter listens to the other, you could create your own encryption code just to use among yourselves.'

They thought a while.

'Yakov,' began Joe, 'you're the one who would know how to hack the comms tower, if you went on to Mexas while David and I stay here, one of us keeping an ear on Monterey Jack, and the other on the American Nazi Republic, you get it set up and listening, then we follow.'

That sounded like a great suggestion.

'Okay,' said Yakov, 'I go, I'll need Yorba Linda to go along, because it's her uncle we're looking for, and Philip, as I'll need an extra hand with the comms, Rabbi Solomon because you know the way, and Mickey. Albert and U Ta can come with you two.'

So it was settled.

* * *

At dinner, again at Thomas Glasser's home, they informed Albert and U Ta of the arrangement. The two were okay with staying, especially as the food was good and plentiful.

As for the prospects for where food wasn't so abundant, Mr. Rosenberg gave his report:

'We almost clinched a deal. We began to ask about how to ship it to Stanley Town, and they flatly said "The deal is off". They just won't have it. We went on to another farm, and this time, we decided we'd have it shipped here, to Whiteriver -- you know, find some other way to get it there. Apparently the first man had started calling around. We almost had the deal clinched with the second farmer, and he got a phone call. He came back and said, "No way". The third place, the same story.'

'It's not like they don't have enough food themselves,' said Mr. Kanter. 'Their grain trucks run through here every day on their way to Pleasant Valley.'

'I had a talk with Mr. Mojo, up at the check point on our way back. He's with us all the way. He says he's going to talk to the chief's council about stopping their shipments from passing through Whiteriver.'

The rabbi spoke up. 'Do we not have friends and contacts in Pleasant Valley? Could we not try to order a shipment to be sent there? I understand their airport still has a few functioning aeroplanes. Perhaps we could airlift it from there to Stanley Town.'

'That's an idea,' responded Mr. Kanter. 'Let's certainly keep this issue on the table until we find some way through.'

Te Eurasian, fifth installment: chapters 9 & 10

Chapter 9
The Sweat Lodge

Mickey sat in the shade of an overhanging rock, holding a bone. He was contemplating the bone, the dryness of it, the deadness of it. It was from some animal that had died a long time ago deep in the dessert. It was far beyond smelling bad. It was just dry and hollow.
Francis had given each of them a bone just before assigning them to their spots.
Mickey's spot overlooked the canyon with the waterfall where they had the camp-fire two nights ago. He could see Francis and Paco building a shelter which was to be the sweat lodge, not far from the fire pit. The location near the fire and the pool of cold water was an important part.
The other important part was what Mickey, his classmates and tour guide were doing right now, fasting in preparation, contemplating their dry bones. It was the preliminary part of the cleansing, that would be continued during the sweat lodge itself.
Francis had told them that it was a time of searching ones heart. It would be to them what Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement is to the Jewish people, a day of fasting and admitting to God all the wrong things that come to the surface. Like the Jewish people in their synagogues on Yom Kippur, they had hiked out to their spots barefoot.
Regarding confessing of ones sins, Mickey was familiar. Some of the others, notably, Albert Fong, weren't.
When he objected to the idea of admitting his faults, Francis had said, 'You need a miracle from the Great Spirit to get you home. If you want His help, you must go to Him on His terms, not your own. He is open to you when you admit your faults. And He knows them already, so he won't be surprised by anything you say.'
'He know already, why I say then?' Albert had responded.
'You say them to clear your soul. Say everything you know. When you think you have no more to confess, look at the bone again. What is the difference between you and that bone? Whatever you find, offer that also to the Great Spirit. Do that until you, yourself, are no more than a dry bone, because it is He who said, "These dry bones shall live again."
'I advise you to do that, because without the help of the Great Spirit, you, Albert Fong, may be trapped in the wilderness like the animal these bones belonged to.'
Put that way, Albert was willing. Francis seemed to have that way about him.
* * *
For the whole day of fasting, they had worn the loose fitting cotton garments that had been provided, and then slept in them, wrapped in a warm blanket, under the stars. The next morning, they rolled up the blanket and carried it and the water bottle to the end of the canyon where the sweat lodge was to be held.
They all took their own time in arriving, so Francis bid them sit around the fire pit outside until they all arrived. The fire was kept burning, and would continue to burn throughout the session, so as to supply the hot rocks for the sweat chamber.
'There will be four rounds inside the sweat lodge, about 40 minutes each,' Francis said, 'each one followed by immersion in this pool next to us. Some of the immersions will have a special meaning, which I will tell you as we are about to come out.' He repeated this every time more of the group arrived and took their seats.
When everyone had arrived, Francis took out a long stemmed pipe and filled it with something from a pouch and lit it using a coal from the fire which he picked up with a pair of tongs.
'This is what we call chanunpa, what you know of as a Native American "peace pipe". It serves as an alter of incense, like what they used in the Temple in Jerusalem, by which our prayers ascend to the Great Spirit. I will pass it around. Say a prayer in your heart, and simply puff -- no need to inhale. It has tobacco, along with wood chips and herbs that give an aroma.'
They passed it around. Mickey suspected that everyone else's prayer was the same as his, Please get us home!
'Now,' said Francis, 'it is time to reverently enter the sweat lodge. Go in, turn to the left and go, clockwise around the fire pit in the middle so that all are seated around in a circle.'
They went in, as instructed, and sat in silence for a short time.
Francis called for Paco, who came in bringing a pan containing red hot stones from the fire outside. The door was closed so that the only light in the room was from the stones. Frances began to place them, one by one in the fire pit.
'These first four stones I place here are the four directions: North, East, South and West. The Great Spirit is in every place at once, filling all four directions. Now I place this one, representing the Great Spirit, as the Father of all. Now, this one, representing the Word of the Great Spirit, the Messiah, His Son. And last, I place this one, which represents the Breath of the Great Spirit, the living Breath who gave utterance to the Prophets, and who enables His servants to this day.'
Then, using a long handled dipper, he took some water from a clay jar at his side, and began pouring it slowly over the stones, making steam arise and fill the room. He poured dipper after dipper until they began to feel the effects of the steam, and sweat began to pour from their bodies.
Francis took his drum and began beating it lightly, making a steady distinct rhythm. After a while, he began singing a prayer asking for cleansing to come from the Breath of the Great Spirit. The words of the prayer also invited the group to think on all the things they had confessed during the fast.
Then, there was silence.
After a while, Francis said, 'It is written in the Golden Book, "Confess your faults to one another, that you may be cleansed." I will pass this "talking stick" around. As you hold it, tell us about yourself, and about what you have confessed. A part of your cleansing is sharing. When you've finished, pass the talking stick to the one next to you.'
He passed ornately carved piece of wood to Seymour, who was sitting on his left, who shared some of what he had struggled through the previous day. He passed it on to Philip, who did the same. He confessed his anger, especially towards Albert, and passed the stick on. When it got to Albert, he also apologised to Philip for cruel taunting words he had spoken.
The stick went all the way around and back to Francis. He confessed a few things himself.
'The Golden Book says, "If you confess your sins, he is faithful and just, and will forgive you, and will cleanse you from all the bad." Now, since we have confessed our sins, we will go and immerse ourselves in the water. It is the immersion of repentance, the same as John the Baptist commanded. Immerse yourselves, and receive forgiveness from the Great Spirit. Leave slowly, following the one on your left to the door.'
The water was cold, but refreshing after all the sweating.
There followed two more rounds, which followed much the same pattern. Yorba Linda, on receiving the talking stick, confessed the anger she had towards her step brother. Philip confessed the same.
Then came the fourth round, which followed a different pattern.
After they had sat in silence, Francis began beating on his drum, softly at first, and then steadily louder. Then, he began to sing:

The Great White Spirit made the sky
The water, The fire, and the land
His Wisdom brought all things to balance
And He looked down and was glad

From the sky he poured life
With help from water, the land made it grow
But the fire stood by to serve in its time
In Wisdom it was to be so
And He looked down and was glad

He made birds to fly in the sky
Fish in the water, and beasts on land
But to the fire, he said wait, it's not your time
Listen to Wisdom, it bids you wait
And he looked down and was glad

He made the first man, and a woman to wife
He taught them the secrets of life from the land
To them he gave the birds in the sky
The fish in the water and the beasts on the land
And to this he added one more -- the power of fire
And Wisdom said, guard it carefully
And he looked down on his people and was glad

But the snake loved that fire,
It grew jealous of the power, it wanted the fire
Through the wife, it said to the man
I'll show you more secrets if you yield to me
You can do so much more, just yield to me
You will see the power it has over the sky, the water and land
But you must bow to me

The voice of Wisdom was ignored

The Great Spirit looked down and was sad

Through the hands of the man, the snake built a wall
It rose to the sky, it surrounded the land
Its depth was to the waters below -- the waters of death

Though the hand of the man had built it, he could not tear it down
It became his prison, it kept him inside
While the snake made use of the power of fire
To further the ruin of all life
Wisdom looked on and waited
The Great Spirit looked down and was sad

The man could do nothing, but the woman had a seed
The Great Spirit consulted His Wisdom, and sent it
He germinated the seed, and as a man, Wisdom was born
The man, the seed of the woman, wife of the first man
Of many generations, Wisdom was born

The wall was built so high, it hid man from the sky
The foundation was so deep, it reached to the waters of death
The Snake was confident that his prize was secure
His prize won through deceit and seduction
But he didn't consider that the Wisdom of the Great Spirit runs deeper still

So the man, Wisdom, the seed of the first woman of many generations
He dug a hole at the base of the wall
Though the wall had been built deep, Wisdom dug deeper still
He dug to the waters of death, and did what the snake failed to foresee
He dug to the waters of death and entered therein.
He was consumed by the waters of death, but death could not hold him
He found the fire that the snake had there hidden
He took the fire, and it burned a path upward and beyond the wall
The Great Spirit looked down and was again glad

So hear Wisdom, you generations of the man, and the woman, his wife
The path to life was opened by Wisdom
Though the wall extends deep, Wisdom dug deeper still
The way passes through the waters of death
To have life, you must die, says Wisdom
To die, to pass through the waters of death, is the way to reclaim the fire

So hear Wisdom, you generations of the man, and the woman, his wife
To have life, you must die, and pass through the waters of death
Then you'll have life, then you'll reclaim the fire

The drumming slowly died down, but continued at a steady beat.
'I will sing that one more time. This time, as you listen, consider that it is not only about our first father and mother, but about you and me. When the song says that he built the wall that became his prison, consider the faults that you have thought about during your fast, and have confessed, and understand what they cost to the Man, Wisdom, who is Yeshua.'
He sang it through again.
At the end of that round, Francis said, 'We will again immerse ourselves. This time, the immersion is in the waters of death. Some of you have done that already, some haven't. Do you wish to follow Wisdom through the water of death through immersion?'
Philip, Albert and Riu all indicated they would. Seymour and U Ta, though they had been baptised in the traditions of their respective churches, decided to do it as a conscious choice to follow Wisdom into life.
'Remember what I said about your dry bone, that the Great Spirit said, "These dry bones will yet live." As you have shed everything that distinguishes you from your dry dead bones, you are ready to be made alive. Go now and be immersed in the Name of the Great Spirit the Father of all, His Son the Word, and His Holy Breath.'
They went out and immersed themselves.
At the end of the day, all of them reported to one another that they felt at peace with themselves in a way they never had before.

Chapter 10
The Operatives

Albert, Riu, Seymour and U Ta, as promised, were off earning their keep on horseback. They each paired up with an experienced hand, and were off, deep into the wilderness beyond the mouth of the canyon, looking for stray cattle with their ranch's brand on them, and driving them back to the corral.
Mickey, Philip and Yorba Linda were giving the main room and the kitchen area a good cleaning.
Mickey was running the squeegee over the big window next to the front door, when he saw a vintage four wheel drive approaching. Four men got out and walked to the house. One of them was Chief Red Eagle. The other three appeared to be white people, though quite tan, and two had beards.
Mickey went to the door.
'Ah, still here, I see. I need to speak with Francis Baguette. And when you've brought him, you, too, stick around. These men have some questions to ask you and your companions.'
'Right,' responded Mickey.
Philip was washing another window, while Yorba Linda was mopping the patio.
'Chief Red Eagle,' said Mickey, on his way to the study.
A minute later, Francis, along with Mickey, Yorba Linda and Philip were at the front door.
'Perhaps you could give these men lodging for a few day? They are on an assignment from their nation, which should be of benefit to us all. Also, they need to gather what information your guests from the MCZ can give them, regarding the hijacking.'
Francis looked the three men over, and nodded.
'So, your guests, have they adjusted well? Do they still entertain hopes of returning to MCZ?'
'Yesterday, they attended the sweat lodge and that has helped them adjust.'
'Ah -- with your unique twist to it, of course.'
'Perhaps. But as for returning, only one of them, the young lady, is from MCZ. The rest are from China. They do wish to return there, but I've assured them that it will be a long hard journey.'
'But at least possible,' said one of the newcomers. 'Not like MCZ.'
'Unless they can hijack another hover car,' said another.
'Not likely,' said the third.
Francis invited them all into the dining area and asked one of the women there to fix some coffee. The three guests brought backpacks with them. They all sat down at the end of the long table, while Chief Red Eagle took his leave.
'Which nation are you from?' asked Francis.
'Free People's Union. It's a long way East of here,' said the one with the dark beard. 'My name's David, this is Yakov,' pointing to the one with a red beard, 'and that's Joe,' indicating the other one with dark hair but with only two days growth on his face.
'Where, exactly, is the Free People's Union?' asked Yorba Linda.
'We'd prefer not to be so specific,' said Yakov, 'at least not until we've got to know each other a bit better. But perhaps you could tell us, what do you know of the -- er -- republic to the north of Dinetah?'
'Not much at all, except that they're Nazis,' said Yorba Linda.
'I could not tell you any more than Chief Red Eagle could,' said Francis. 'He has had direct dealings with them.'
'Yes,' said Yakov. 'And he's been very helpful. But I understand you folks were pulled off a hover car as it passed over Dineh lands. Did they say anything that gave any hint of what their intentions were once they got to their destination?'
'Only to throw a wrench into the works of the Zionist something-or-other,' said Mickey.
'They stole your identities, didn't they?' asked Joe.
'Yes,' said Yakov. 'We can assume that, right now, there are seven Nazis moving about the MCZ using your identities. Perhaps it would be helpful if you told us your names, and any information that would be contained on the central database under your names.'
'You MCZ police?' asked Philip.
'No, we're not from the MCZ,' said Yakov.
'Not from MCZ,' repeated David.
'Perhaps, if we told you just a little bit more about ourselves, you would understand our interest,' said Joe. 'You see, we're Jewish.'
'Ah -- like Jesus?' said Philip.
'Er -- ' Joe cleared his through, 'yes, I suppose he was Jewish.'
'People in MCZ don't know he's Jewish,' said Philip, oblivious to the subtle reactions he had aroused.
'Yeah, I suppose they don't. But being that we are Jewish --'
'You want to keep track of the Nazis,' said Mickey.
'That's right,' said Yakov. 'We have it on good authority that they would like to take over and unite America again, but under their banner ...'
'But there, we have to be careful,' said Joe, 'because there are many people, and not just Nazis, who think we want to take over the whole show.'
'Yeah, not just the Nazis,' affirmed David.
'Let's just say we're an ethnic group, like the Native Americans, like the Chinese and Indians, who are interested in surviving. Now, there's been so much dirt flung around already, that many people find that hard to believe.'
'What does Chief Red Eagle believe?' asked Francis.
'I'm not sure,' said David. 'Perhaps he just wants to help maintain a balance of power...'
'...which would be fine with us,' said Joe.
'Or, perhaps he thinks we're the lesser of the two evils,' suggested Yakov.
'Yes,' said Francis. 'Native American ways have a lot in common with Judaism. I, for one, consider you far less evil than the Nazis.'
'Thank you,' said Yakov.
The other two also murmured a thank you.
The other workers had begun to arrive for their lunch, including the remaining four Asians.
After being introduced, they all gave their names and details, while Joe took them down in an e-tablet.
* * *
The food had been brought to their table, fry bread and a squash dish with some salad.
'I hope I'm not rude in asking,' said Joe, 'but what kind of oil was the bread fried in?'
'Oil from our peanuts,' said Francis.
The three newcomers looked relieved.
'Ah, you were afraid it might be un-kosher animal fat,' said Francis. 'There is no meat in this meal, but we plan to have roast lamb tonight. It will be slaughtered this afternoon. Perhaps you would like to see how we do it?'
'David here was trained as a shocket, he could slaughter it for you.'
'Very good,' said Francis. 'Also, I will ask them not to add milk to the fry bread dough for this evening.'
'What's a "shocket"?' asked Seymour.
'That's a butcher who slaughters animals in a way that is acceptable for Jewish people,' answered Francis.
'You were saying earlier that Native American ways shared common traits with Judaism,' said Joe.
'Yes,' said Francis. 'An example is your prohibition against eating the blood of an animal.'
'But don't young Indians on their first hunt drink the blood of their first kill?'
'Yes, in some communities they do, but that's for the same reason that you do not drink the blood. It is the belief we hold in common that the spirit of the animal is in the blood. Also, you have a commandment forbidding one to take a mother bird from the wild along with its young -- only take the young without the mother. That reflects our common belief that we must only take what we need from nature, and leave nature the means to replenish herself.'
'How does taking the young birds away without the mother help?' asked Yorba Linda.
'Because, the next time the mother lays eggs, it will lay twice as many, to compensate for the loss, so nothing is lost from nature. But if you take the mother as well, that is a loss.'
'It's interesting to find one so knowledgeable about Judaism way out here,' said David.
'I do a lot of study. I have talked to Jewish people in the past, when the rest of the world was more accessible. Now, these people dropped out of the sky a few days ago, bringing me the Golden Book, along with parts of the Talmud, the Mishna and a midrash so I can now continue my study.'
'I'm impressed!'
'Speaking of falling out of the sky,' began Yakov, looking at his two friends, 'I'd say we can let them in on a bit more of what we're doing? They seem to me to be quite safe. '
The other two murmured assent.
'We have a few people hacking into MCZ cyberspace doing routine surveillance. They've come up with evidence that some of the Nazi nations have been doing the same. In fact, we learned of their plan to penetrate the MCZ by hijacking a hover shuttle, which they've now succeeded in doing. That's why we wanted to find out as much as we could from all of you. For one thing, we believe they had help from inside.'
'My step brother,' said Yorba Linda.
'Who?' said David.
'Your step brother?' said Joe. 'You were aware of this?'
'We only found that out when we managed to hack in and talk to him. He was shocked that his friend, Philip, here, and I were on the hover bus that was taken down. There were two buses assigned to our group, for whom I was the tour guide. Philip and I were supposed to be on the other bus. He seemed very upset, but then, we got cut off.'
'How did get through?' asked Yakov.
'Philip did that.'
Philip smiled shyly at them.
'You did it? How?'
'I can show you, but I can't hack any more. Can't get through.'
'Okay, I think I know what happened. You found a weak link in the addressing system, but they caught you in the act and patched it up so it's no longer available.'
'But I do it many times from China!'
'That probably didn't concern them as much as communication to the Free Zone. We've brought equipment that enables us to hack in on a more fundamental level. Perhaps it might be good if we called him. We could learn a few things.'
'Can we call to China?' asked Riu.
'We could try.'
* * *
The three newcomers, along with Francis, Yorba Linda, Mickey, Philip and Riu were in the study. Joe was setting up their system, connecting it to Francis' router which they had linked to their own satellite dish outside via a wireless connection.
'The key to broadcasting into the MCZ is linking to the right satellite,' Yakov was explaining. 'Then, it's simply a matter of using the right protocol. When the Multinationals took over, they didn't bother to study the whole inventory. They were only interested in the more powerful satellites that could most efficiently connect all their systems. They left a lot of the smaller ones unused, some with open links into strategic points in the system. Old Jack King used to work for a company that maintained several satellite links. He kept the coordinates and encryption keys on his own computer at home. Suddenly, one of the big Multinationals bought out his company and he was out of a job, but he held on to the data. Later, he went to work for us.'
'But apparently, the Nazis have access to a few of them as well,' said Joe, 'which is how they've gotten in.'
'But if they can link in, why did they need my brother?' asked Yorba Linda.
'Because they've firewalled the infrastructures,' said Yakov. 'While we can communicate into the MCZ, we can't access the other systems, like transportation. They needed an inside man for that.'
David said, 'Now, what we're afraid is happening, is that they're in there, trying to install links between all the systems, bypassing the firewalls. That would give them a lot of control.'
'A lot,' affirmed Joe.
'Okay, I think we're through,' said Yakov. 'Let's give it a try.'
Philip gave them the IP address.
As soon as Monterey Jack's face shone on the other side, he suddenly looked flustered, and then said, 'Hey, I can't talk now. I'm, like real busy, okay? Like -- er -- ' he seemed distracted, as though doing two things at once. 'Er -- I'd love to talk to you and all, but I'm -- like -- real busy -- and ...well -- later, okay?'
He held up a piece of paper with a hand written IP address on it. Apparently, he had been writing it while talking.
Yakov saved a screen shot of the written message, and Jack went off line.
'What's that all about?' said Yorba Linda.
'Let's try the IP address he showed us,' said Joe.
'Right,'
Yakov entered it, and soon Jack's face came up again, a bit more relaxed. It looked like he was in the toilet.
'Linda, there's a woman been come'n around using a virtual image that look just like you, call'n herself Yorba Linda Sanchez and all, but her real self is white. I think she's got your ID bracelet or something. Anyway, she and a guy comes when the folks are all out, and like, she'll kill me and our whole family if I don't cooperate, and they've taken over my old net address. And they've got my room and my computer bugged so I can't call anyone, so I have to use this other one they don't know about.'
'What are they trying to do?' asked Yorba Linda.
'I don't know. They make me go out of the room when they're do'n it.'
'Are they there now?' asked Yakov from behind.
'Jack,' said Yorba Linda. 'These are some people that are trying to help us. They need you to give them as much information about this group as you know.'
Yakov took the tablet. 'You must be Monterey Jack,' he said.
'Yeah. Who are you?'
'You can call me Jake. We can try to help. But first, what do you know about the people you've been in contact with?'
'I don't know. They seemed like nice guys at first, and were all friendly, and they got me into all sorts of cool stuff ...'
'... like planning hijacks?' said Yorba Linda.
'Well -- they promised me they'd send the car back for you -- really, they did! They didn't say anything about take'n anyone's ID bracelets, honest!'
'But what do you know about them?' repeated Yakov.
'Not much. Like I said, they were real cool at first, but close up they're like real hard core evil, like, threatening to kill me and all.'
'What are they trying to do?'
'They won't tell me. But the man has got a swastika tattooed to his eyelid.'
'Jack,' said Yakov. 'Can you do something for me?'
'Maybe, if it's not dangerous.'
'Do you know how to hack back into your own system in stealth mode?'
'I probably could.'
'Don't try this directly from your main system or they'll probably detect it. If you know all your hidden settings, you can hack into it from this IP address that you're using now, and access the security control box. In that, first, change the PQ setting to 106. After that, disable the streaming shield. Then, set the PQ setting to 105.'
'Got it. Anything else?'
'That's it. The rest is up to us.'
'You guys doin' okay?'
Philip answered, 'We okay. No worries. We pray the Great Spirit for you.'
They went off line.
'What will you do now?' asked Francis.
'I'll give him time to change the settings, then we'll eaves drop on them,' said Yakov. 'Meanwhile, you wanted to contact your people in China?'
* * *
They were through to Mr. Singh.
'Mercy, you're alive! They told us you were all killed in a fatal accident!'
'Yes, we're all okay,' said Yorba Linda. 'So they sent you straight back to China?'
'Yes. When you failed to turn up, they sent us back immediately after giving us the news.'
'You didn't see our car arrive?'
'There was one I thought should have been yours, but a group of strangers got out -- rather odd looking ones at that.'
'That was probably the group that stole our IDs. They're Nazis from what they call the Free Zone.'
'The what zone?'
Yorba Linda explained that to him. Mr. Singh looked perplexed.
'I think I did see a Nazi sign on one of them, a swastika tattoo.'
Then, Yorba Linda asked him, 'Is there any word from the parents of the students?'
'We informed them about the fatal crash,' replied Mr. Singh. 'I'm sure they'll be happy to know otherwise -- all except for, -- hmm -- Riu's grandmother. I'm sorry to say, she passed away.'
Everyone in the room looked at Riu. He looked surprisingly calm.
'Also,' continued Mr. Singh, 'her home was sold to pay off debts, so, I'm afraid other arrangements will have to be made for Riu once he returns.'
'That's okay,' said Riu. 'I was ready for that. I think I'll live here and work on the ranch, okay, Francis?'
Francis put his hand on his shoulder. 'Yes. We will be glad to have you among us.'
* * *
'My grandmother told me this would happen,' said Riu, at dinner. 'She wanted me to go on this trip. She even said I would find a new life. I told her, "No", but she insisted, saying that there would be nothing left for me in Chantaburi. In fact, during our time in the sweat lodge, I knew she had died, and that this is the place for me.'
* * *
'Do you have any plans of where to go from here?' asked Joe.
'The only idea so far is to try to find my uncle, Rodrigo Sanchez,' said Yorba Linda. 'We believe he runs a communications tower in some town called Milfred in South Texas. Again, Monterey Jack conveniently had that information for us.'
'Quite a kid!' commented David.
'How did your uncle come to get a job in a place like that?'
'I have no idea. He disappeared off our radar screen a few years ago. We were told he had been offered a job with a research firm and had to move, and that he'd keep in touch. He didn't.'
'Do you think he knew anything he shouldn't have?'
'He had all these ideas that -- well -- in retrospect, were probably more than just ideas.'
'Dangerous,' said Joe. 'Had to be sent into exile.'
'And now, he maintains a communications tower for the MCZ intercity transport system?' said David.
'That's what we've been told,' said Yorba Linda.
Just then, Yakov walked into the front room where his two friends were sitting with Yorba Linda, Mickey and Philip.
'I think we've hit a goldmine!' he said.
'What's the story?' asked Joe.
'They're using all sorts of codes and passwords. I believe some of them are to their own command centre in Central West Aryan State, and a few others as well. I'm sure one's for American Nazi Republic Central HQ.'
'Woah!' exclaimed David.
'And, I think I can confirm that they are setting up hard links like we suspected. I've got a few access codes for some of them as well. If we keep listening, more are on the way.'
'So, that means the Nazis nations are all in on this together?' said Joe.
'I guess it does,' said David. 'What about the hard links to -- you know ...'
'You mean the big one? I don't know yet. We'll have to keep listening.'
'With this info, we can start listening in to a few more places, can't we?' said Joe.
'Unfortunately, with what we have here, we can only listen to one place at a time. And to forward this to Bruno would be too risky,' said Yakov.
'Now, what about using a MCZ communications tower?' said David.
'If we had one of those, that would be perfect. Know of one for sale?'
'Yorba Linda's uncle. South Texas. What's the town again?' said David.
'Milfred,' replied Yorba Linda.
'I know that place,' said Yakov. 'It's in the Republic of Mexas. They're a more friendly nation that keeps Nazis and other radicals at arms length.'
'What do you say we help these people get there?' said David.
'Would he be likely to want to help us?' asked Yakov.
'From the way he used to be,' said Yorba Linda, 'I think there's a good chance he would.'
'Yeah, you told us. That's why they put him there,' said Joe.
'Using a communications tower, we could do all we need and more,' said Yakov.
'But the man at the communications tower near here said he could only call to the central transport communications office,' said Mickey.
'First off,' said Yakov, 'he probably doesn't know how to hack his system. Secondly, they're not entirely on their own. They get visits from time to time. Unless he were an expert, like us, they would either detect his tampering from the main office, or by inspecting the safety seals on the equipment when they visit. They'd have him out of there in two seconds, and he'd be stuck hoeing cotton along side the local farm labourers.'
'We will, of course, warn your uncle of the risks,' said David.
'Would there be a way to get back to China from there?' asked Mickey.
'The MCZ controls the entire coastline,' said Joe. 'As far as the rest of the world is concerned, they claim sovereignty over the whole continent. Their lack of control over the interior is a very well kept secret. To keep it that way, they restrict access to the borders by anyone without ID, they jam any radio communications, they block internet traffic, and of course, travel. But there are ways around that.'
'Can't fly over?' suggested Mickey.
'Not unless you use a stealth aircraft, flying very low. They'll shoot you down,' said David. 'No one we know has that sort of a plane.'
'Submarine from up river is one of the more available options. That's also difficult,' said Yakov.
'How then?' said Philip.
'We've never done it. All I know is, it's possible,' said Joe.
'And easier than actually getting into the MCZ from here,' said Yakov.
* * *
The old map sat, unrolled, on the desk. Yakov was penciling in national borders for places further off, and their names.
'We came through "USA", but it might be difficult to return that way,' said Joe. 'They didn't take to us very well.'
'Stanley Town will take you in,' said Francis, tapping on the place on the map. 'To get there, you cross this desert.'
'That one in your back yard? I don't think we'd make it,' said David.
'You go in our electric wagon. Paco will take you. I just had three solar panels replaced, so it's ready to go.'
The three operatives thought a moment.
'That would be helpful,' said Joe. 'It won't put you out?'
'We have been planning this trip to take gifts to the people there, as our harvest has been very good this year.'
'Now, White River is a friendly place,' said Yakov, pointing at a place beyond, but not bordering Stanley Town. 'They have a big Jewish community. We should be able to find our way there.'
'What about this place in between -- er -- "Republic of Arizona"?' asked David.
'They are very protective,' answered Francis. 'All the land is held by farmers, who fight very hard to keep what they have. Stanley Town is also very well armed, but they will welcome you with open arms if you bring groceries.'
'Stanley Town people aren't farmers then?'
'They farm what little land they have. It is not sufficient to feed such a big population.'
'How do they survive then?'
'They have ways, which accounts for them being well armed, and the Republic of Arizona people being very protective. I hope that by sending food whenever we have some to spare, we can generate peace. Father Ryan hopes that as well. My only concern is finding a way to cross the Republic of Arizona.'
'I'm sure we can find a way,' said Yakov. 'What do you say, Joe? David?'
'We've done as much before,' said David. 'Perhaps not with such a large group.'
'I'm for it,' said Joe.
'I will send an email to Father Ryan,' said Francis. 'If he turns on his server, he should have word of your arrival before you get there.'

The Eurasian -- fourth installment

Here are chapters 7 and 8. As you will see, I've now added chapter titles.

Chapter 7

Francis Baguette

The way to Francis Baguette's farm went through a community of adobe huts at the mouth of a canyon, and then up the canyon itself. Local women were washing clothes and small children were swimming naked in the stream that ran along their path.

Albert commented, 'Jimmy Khoo like to see Indians, ah? Why he not come with us?'

Inside the canyon, the houses were farther apart, some were farms, others, Mickey suspected, mines or quarries.

It was cooler now that the sun was beginning to set. This would have been enjoyable, if not for the prospect of never finding their way home again.

As usual, Philip was staying very close to Mickey as though he were the only one he had.

The path began to go up the side of the cliff, and then through a passage between two cliffs, and then down again into another canyon. Here, there was a lot of flat land at the bottom, with a small stream running through it. In the middle, was a two storey, part wooden, part stone and part adobe house with a courtyard. It looked like it had been extended several times. Solar panels lined the roof. There was also a barn, a shed and what looked like a corral with about a dozen cows. Other, smaller houses were scattered about the area. Some of the land was planted with corn and other crops, while sheep grazed in some of the fields nearer by, and cattle in the more distant ones.

They drew close to the house. The front door was set into a corner, where the wooden section joined the stone, via a section of the courtyard.

Ham-bone yelled, 'Hey, Frank!'

The door opened, and out walked a tall, thin man; old, except his hair was jet black, grew down his back with the corner locks braided on both sides, topped with a cowboy hat. His scowl was typical of the Native Americans they'd seen so far.

'Visitors,' said Ham-bone. 'They were en rout from San Francisco to Dallas, but some militiamen from Central West Aryan State brought them down and hijacked their hover car. This one says he's heard of you.'

Mickey passed him the small envelope from inside the one his aunt had given him.

'What the...' muttered Albert.

Francis opened it and read it without showing any reaction.

The others also gave Mickey strange looks. He smiled back weakly and shrugged his shoulders.

'Come on in then,' said Francis. His scowl remained fixed, but the monotone voice had a slight welcoming ring.

He showed them in through the door built of oak beams, which led into the wooden portion of the house. It was a large room with a rough terracotta tile floor, and a big stone fireplace on one side. Opposite the fireplace were wooden and glass doors leading into a courtyard. In the room itself, there were several very old sofas arranged around the fireplace.

'Rest yourselves here. There's water on the side table. Bathroom down the end of that hall. I will go and make sure they prepare enough food.'

'I'll be off then,' said Ham-bone.

Francis grunted in reply, and Ham-bone was off.

'What's the story with the envelope?' whispered Yorba Linda.

'Yeah, la!' said Philip, 'and how you know him?'

'It's a bit complicated,' replied Mickey. 'I'm rather muddled about it myself.'

Suddenly, there was the whirr of an electric motor, and a cool breeze began blowing across the room with the same fragrant scent as they had noticed in the tavern. Whatever it was, it made the room all the more welcoming.

The others were too tired to question Mickey any more, so after a refreshing drink from a long handled dipper, the seven slunk down in the sofas. For the first time, they could rest. Ham-bone's transmitter tower wasn't conducive to relaxation. Micky sat in the middle of the three-seater, with Philip's head resting on his shoulder, and Riu snoring on the other side of him. Seymour and U Ta shared a two seater sofa, Yorba Linda sank into an overstuffed armchair and Albert took off his shoes and stretched out on a three seater. The others were either snoring or breathing heavily, as Mickey wondered again how they had managed to find the home of someone who previously existed only as a name on an envelope his aunt had given him in Bangkok, and living in an area completely unknown to anyone he knew -- including Yorba Linda.

* * *

They were awakened by a short stubby man wearing a dirty apron.

'This way, if you want dinner.'

They wanted dinner, so they followed the man out to the covered patio next to the courtyard, where a few people were lounging. The middle of the court yard had a stone lined pond partially surrounded by a cactus garden. A couple of young boys were wading, floating a toy boat in the pond. The door on the left led into the stone section of the house. It was a big room, with a long table running almost the whole length of it, with kitchen facilities an the far end.

Francis Baguette stood next to the near end, which was set for eight. He thanked the man in the apron, calling him Paco.

'The others have eaten already. We saw you sleeping, so we understand you had a difficult day and needed your rest. Come, I will join you.'

They sat down. Francis directed Mickey to sit across from him.

The pot in the middle of the table contained something called chile verde. There were two stacks of a sort of flat wheat bread, like nan, one on each side of the pot. Francis called it 'fry bread'. They followed his' example in spooning the chili on to the hollow side of the fry bread, and eating them with their hands.

'So,' began Francis, 'you are the nephew of Rosemary O'Brien?'

'Yes,' replied Mickey.

He was silent for a while.

'You all dropped out of the sky, by accident, just outside of Cactus Head?'

'We had a little help,' said Yorba Linda.

'Yes, with help from the Nazis.' He was silent for a few more moments.

'So, how did your aunt know to send me a message through you, if you arrived by accident?'

Mickey couldn't find any words.

'You are more mystified than I am,' said Francis. 'Now, what about the memory chip I am supposed to copy?'

'Er -- the only chip I have is this one,' Mickey pulled out the envelope from his pocket, 'but someone gave it to me long after I got the envelope from my aunt -- who doesn't even know her.'

Philip said, 'Your aunt we meet in the toilet when we get on the bus?'

'Yeah. That's when she gave me the envelope. She said, "Don't open until you get to Cactus Head". I didn't know any "Cactus Head" until we landed here. It doesn't make any sense!'

'Nothing about your aunt has ever made sense,' replied Francis, 'except she is always right.'

'How did you meet her?'

'That is another long story, even harder to believe than this one. I will copy this and give it back. In return, I will give you a spare e-tablet so you can use it yourself.'

He went on, 'All of you are welcome to stay here as long as you need to. However, after three days, you work to earn your keep.'

Mickey heard a few suppressed gasps, but only Albert said anything out loud:

'Ayo! Work ah?'

'Most visitors that stop through here get one day of free hospitality. I'm giving you three. This land will only support so many people without help to make things grow faster. I think you can enjoy what I give you to do. How many can ride a horse?'

No one responded.

'How many would like to learn?'

Albert, Seymour and U Ta indicated interest.

If you get good at it in three days, that will be your job.

Yorba Linda spoke up: 'We do appreciate your hospitality. I think we owe it to you to help in any way we can. But my question is, do you have any idea how we can get home again?'

'I know of no way into the Multinational Corporate Zone. They build their walls very high and secure so no one can get in or out.'

'The what what zone again?' asked Seymour.

'Multinational Corporate Zone. Run by multinational corporations.'

'Ah,' said Philip, 'The Matrix!'

'A good description. They very carefully carry on the illusion that they control all of America. Those within what was once USA think they are under US government, those in Canada think it is Canada, and likewise Mexico. Really, it is all one system, which also covers parts of Australia, New Zealand, and some parts of Europe. There are no borders in the MCZ, only virtual ones. Even the classical democratic system with the executive and legislature in Washington DC is computer generated.'

'My Uncle Rodrigo used to say that,' said Yorba Linda.

'But I think most of you are not from MCZ.'

'China!' said Albert.

'Yes. I think Rosemary was from there, and Bangkok. It would be far easier to go there from here than into the MCZ.'

'So, what's this Matrix?' asked Yorba Linda.

'You don't see The Matrix?' began Albert. 'There's a computer whiz one, Neo, ah? And he meet Morpheus on Internet, ah? Like he cool black dude, like sat sat bo chia one, ah? And he tell him, like, everything he see all fake fake, but have prophecy, la ...'

'I have the video,' interrupted Francis. 'I will play if for you this evening.'

'Do you have Internet?' asked Philip.

'There is an Internet in the Free Zone. But there is a strong firewall protecting the MCZ from all outside signals.'

'I can hack,' said Philip. 'I call Monterey Jack.'

That gave Yorba Linda a start. 'Wow! Do you think you can?'

'I will turn on my satellite dish and router tomorrow for you to try,' said Francis. 'Right now, I get out the video player.'

By the end of the evening, Yorba Linda thought she knew why she had never seen The Matrix.

* * *

Most of the group were given rooms in the upper floor of the wooden section of the house, approachable via the stairs ascending through the inside of a square tower joined to the adobe built section of the house. This feature gave the whole house the appearance of a castle.

There was a large bathroom at the back, consisting of several semi-private bathing areas surrounding a well with a hand pump. The choice was to take a bath by the pump or to fill up a bucket and take it to a bathing area behind a wall, hoping those who walked past a certain point would be polite enough not to look. Since there was no privacy at all by the pump, Mickey and most of the others did the latter. Albert was a bit more daring, but no one else was about anyway.

Mickey shared a room with two sets of bunk beds with Philip and Riu. That part of the house was kept cool by what Mickey now knew was an evaporator fan, a large contraption with a rotating cylinder fan pulling air through a fabric network that had water constantly dripping through it. This sort of fan was only effective in an arid climate, which is why he had never seen one in Asia.

They settled down in their bunks. Philip was in the one above Mickey.

'Mickey,' he whispered down. 'Do you think we ever go home again?'

'I'm sure they'll find some way.'

Though Mickey was far from sure himself, that seemed comfort Philip.

Much later, Mickey was awakened by the shaking of the bunk, as Philip tossed about, talking in his sleep. Later again, he heard Riu calling in Thai to his grandmother.

Chapter 8

Life in the Outer Zone

Breakfast was cornmeal porridge. Again, they were on their own, as the others in the house had eaten early.

So had Francis, but he joined them for his second cup of coffee. 'I have the computer in my study set up with the router,' he told Philip. 'See what you can do. Internet in the Free Zone is intermittent. Websites and connections only work when their host server happens to be on. Electrical supply is never enough to keep servers on permanently. Also, all connection to anywhere outside the Free Zone is routed through Silicone Valley, in the heart of the Western MCZ. Any communication beyond that hub, whether to the MCZ or the world beyond, must be hacked.'

'I know how,' said Philip.

'You can begin as soon as you're ready. And Mickey,' he went on.

'Yes?'

'I have an e-tablet for you, also in the study. I've copied the memory chip to it. But I would like to know, how did your contact in MCZ obtain such a complete Bible?'

'He said they backwards hacked into the server that they use to scan for illegal copies.'

'They are very resourceful. The memory chip includes almost every translation I know of, and also contains the Apocrypha, some Pseudopigrapha, the Dead Sea Scrolls and even some Jewish Midrash, and portions of the Talmud. I feel as though I have been given a vast treasure trove -- worth far more than the e-tablet your aunt asked me to give you.'

'Are you a Christian?' asked U Ta.

'You might say that, but here, we do not call ourselves "Christian".'

'Why?'

'To many of our people, "Christian" is the white man's religion, and has become the symbol of hundreds of years of cultural imperialism. We have found that if you ignore all of white man's cultural ways, what's left is not very different from Native American tradition, which is rooted in the belief in a supreme Great Spirit, who is the origin of all things. Here, we believe that Yeshua came to be our Messiah as well as the Messiah to the Jews. His Spirit breaths new life into many of our tribal customs, so that our people can approach the Great Spirit in a community setting through Yeshua, and feel right at home. However, some of the old ways, we have stopped because they are forbidden in the Bible and were not essential to Dineh culture anyway.'

'Does Chief Red Eagle believe that way?'

'No. Most of the people of Dinetah do it with peyote. Chief Red Eagle at least tolerates us, because we follow indigenous tribal ways, and also, we live on the very edge of Dinetah lands. But he does not approve of belief in Yeshua as the physical manifestation of the Great Spirit. Also, they are very militaristic. While we don't approve of their warlike spirit, at least they protect us from any attack by the Nazis and other red neck cowboys to the North.'

'What about the South?' asked Albert.

'Only a vast mountainous desert -- a no-man's-land. Not worthwhile crossing if the object is to attack someone.'

* * *

Francis had shown them to his study, and now, Philip was trying the same hack he had used to communicate with Monterey Jack from Siam Province. Yorba Linda and Riu looked over his shoulder, and Mickey sat exploring the features of his new e-tablet and its contents. Riu was anxious for any news on the state of his grandmother's health.

'After this, I try Mr. Singh. I think, maybe in Hong Kong already,' said Philip.

* * *

Albert, Seymour and U Ta were following Francis out to the stable. He had found them each a wide brim hat to protect them from the sun, and gave them each a bottle of water with a strap to hang from their shoulder.

U Ta, walking next to Francis, said, 'I also belong to a tribe.'

'Which one?'

'The Karen. We occupy area between Siam and Burma. Our people also have legends about the Great Spirit who created the world and made a man and woman. Just like the Bible. Also we have story of the flood, and a man who took two of every animal in a boat.'

'Hmm. Many tribes have that story.'

'We also have a legend: three brothers each received a book. Eldest brother, the father of the Karen, had a book of leather, containing the wisdom. But he didn't take care of it, and lost it, so the Karen have been a backward people, living in the hills. Their brother, the Burmese, wouldn't share their book with the Karen, but took advantage of them and forced them to live in the mountains. But there is a prophecy, the white brother will bring his copy, the golden book, and share it with the Karen people. When the first missionary, Adoniram Judson first went to the Karen people, translating the Bible into our language, my fathers regarded that as the answer to the prophecy, and many many villages of Karen people converted to Christianity.'

'You, in turn, have brought me the golden book.'

'You didn't have a Bible?'

'Only a very old copy of the Gospel of Mark. About ten years ago, the Dinetah people, very militant then, destroyed all other copies of the Bible they could find. Any Internet server that has a Bible is viciously hacked. No one dares to post a Bible on-line any more, so I could not get another copy until now.'

They had reached the stable and the first horse riding lesson began.

* * *

The face of Monterey Jack, that Philip had become familiar with, shone on the e-tablet.

'Jack,' Yorba Linda called, 'you might as well show him your true face. He's only the same age as you.'

'Oh!' he said. The cartoon styled face on the screen morphed into that of a pudgy, brown-haired boy with glasses. 'Guess you all must be in Dallas by now, huh?' he said in his own pre-adolescent voice.

'No,' said Philip. 'A bunch of Nazis throw us out and go off with hover car and ID bracelets.'

'What!!' the face showed extreme shock. 'Can't be! How the hell...! What car were you in, number one or number two?'

'What do you mean, "what car"?' demanded Yorba Linda.

'I mean -- oh my god! -- Were you in the car with -- er Mr. Mir Singh and ... oh my god! This can't have happened!'

'What you talking about?' said Philip.

'Car number one, with Mr. Singh, had left already when I got to the station. Philip had been moved to car number two,' said Yorba Linda.

'Godammit! You were clearly told not to change the seating arrangement. I put that note on the reservation! Now -- oh my god! What am I gonna do?' Monterey Jack looked close to tears.

'So!' said Yorba Linda, 'it appears that their "man inside" was none other than my ...'

'God damn you Monterey Jack,' screamed Philip. 'You get us stuck here in nowhere! I hate you! I hate you!'

Yorba Linda took the e-tablet from Philip's hands, while Mickey tried to calm him down.

'The question now, Jack, is how are we going to get home?'

'That's just it!' wailed Jack. 'There aint no get'n home!'

Philip was shouting, 'Traitor! I think you're my friend and you use me for this! Screw you!'

Mickey had managed to sit him down at the far end of the room.

'Can't you hack something?' pleaded Yorba Linda.

'No, can't be done!' said Jack between sobs. 'You don't believe me, ask Uncle Rodrigo.'

'Uncle Rodrigo? Where is he?'

'He's got a permanent post with external maintenance, at communications tower number 326.'

'Where is that?'

'Here it is ...'

He read off some numbers of degrees longitude and latitude. Yorba Linda asked him to repeat it as she wrote it down.

'Hey, Linda,' sobbed Jack. 'I'm really sorry, I swear ...'

The line went dead.

Philip's wailing finally subsided, and he wiped his eyes on the front of Mickey's shirt.

He tried hacking his way through the Silicone Valley hub once more, in the direction of China, but he was unsuccessful.

'Dang! Can never hack two times in a row. Always get caught,' commented Philip.

* * *

The three had begun to get the hang of balancing on top of a horse, and were now riding along behind Francis down a dirt path.

Francis had left off giving them pointers on horsemanship, and they were just enjoying the experience.

'U Ta,' began Francis, 'how often do you commune with the Great Spirit?'

'Huh?'

'Do you pray to him? When?'

'Oh -- er -- whenever we go to church, I guess. Just sing and the minister prays.'

'Ah.'

They went some more in silence, around a few rock formations.

'Have you always been -- um -- a Christian?' Francis began again.

'I was baptised when I was twelve.'

'Did you feel Him in your soul then?'

'Er -- no. My parents just had me baptised -- the Karen Baptist way.'

'Ah, I see.'

They came to a fenced in area where the ground wasn't too rocky. There were cows grazing near the far end. He lifted the bar across the entrance and instructed the three to prod their horses into a gallop across the field and back again. Then, they started back to the homestead.

Francis asked similar questions of Seymour and Albert.

'I was baptised as a baby in the Anglican Church, and had my first communion at seven and then confirmation at ten,' said Seymour.

'My family Buddhist la,' said Albert.

About half way home, they were ambling down a straight path with a corn field on one side, and cotton growing on the other. Some of the workers were hoeing weeds in the cotton field.

Francis told the three, 'I invite all of you to join in a traditional ceremony we have. We do it to purify our soul and draw closer to the Great Spirit. We call it a sweat lodge.'

'Sweat? Like a sauna?' asked Seymour.

'Maybe like a sauna, but it is a temporary structure, made from local natural material. The purpose is not recreation like sauna, but spiritual.'

'Take all our clothes off?' said Albert.

'No, but we wear loose cotton. No synthetic, no plastic or metal jewellery. It is like a prayer meeting, with cleansing, followed by ritual bath in the stream, like Jewish immersion. It begins with one day of fasting.'

'Fasting! Ayo!' Albert exclaimed. 'Not ready for that la!'

'The way back to China will be difficult and tiring. Perhaps many days with no food. Are you ready for that?'

'Er -- well...'

* * *

Lunch time was the first chance they had to dine with the whole work crew. Besides themselves, there were about twenty five, including some small children. The older children, they were told, were away at school.

The others seemed quite friendly, though not many of them spoke English. They never-the-less greeted them, and made them feel welcome.

The seven sat at their usual place at the end of the long table. Francis stood at the end and said some things in Dineh. Some of it was apparently good news to the group, as they responded with cheers, while smiling at the newcomers. Then he said what appeared to be a prayer, while everyone looked respectful and solemn. At the end, they gave a response, and the meal began.

On the table were stacks of fry bread, dishes of a pasty bean concoction, and some roast lamb. The latter two were spooned onto the former and rolled up, just like the night before.

Francis took his seat at the head of the table.

'What did you tell then?' asked Yorba Linda.

'I told them that you brought them the golden book. And tonight, we will gather around the fire pit to roast meat for the evening meal, and the telling of ancient stories -- beginning with U Ta's story of the Golden Book.'

About half way through the meal, Francis asked, 'Did you get through to your people on the router?'

Yorba Linda spared Philip the pain: 'We got through only to my step brother. It looks like he is partly to blame for our mess. However, he did give me the location of my Uncle Rodrigo, apparently also working on the outside doing a job similar to Mr. Hamm.'

'Where is he?'

'All I got were map coordinates.'

'We can look it up on the map. I can not promise that it is possible to go there.'

'Why?' asked Mickey.

'In the Free Zone, are hundreds of sovereign nations, more often hostile to one another than not. Some are Native American tribes, some are white people, often with very strong opinions about race or religion, such as the Nazis. Some seek to build a Christian empire, some hold New Age beliefs, some are Mafia kingdoms, though a few places conduct their affairs for the benefit of all their citizens with no question of belief or race. Travel to far off places is often impossible. But, by a miracle, you came here, bringing the golden book. Perhaps, by a miracle, you can find your way back to China.'

He paused as he fixed himself another piece of fry bread, and let the information sink in.

Finally, he told the group, 'You are welcome to stay with us and share the life we have made here. However, I also think you yearn to be back in your homeland. Your minds and hearts must be clear on this before you can make a choice. I think that a sweat lodge would be a good thing...' He went on to repeat the invitation, and to share with the rest of the group what he had already explained to the three.

'The day after tomorrow will be your chance to prepare yourselves by fasting. The following day, we will hold the sweat lodge.'

* * *

Francis pulled out a faded map of the 50 states and spread it on the desk in the study, as Yorba Linda, Mickey, Riu and Philip looked on. The faded colours only depicted boundaries that were no longer relevant, namely state lines. The darker black ink showed the cities that were still in their locations, some metropolitan towers and such, that were a part of the Multinational Corporate Zone, and other cities in the Free Zone. Some of the latter had changed their names, some of which were inked over the old names on the map. The boundaries of the MCZ had been coloured in with a paint brush dipped into water colour mixed from local ingredients. Felt tip markers, Mickey realised, were hard to come by in most parts of the Free Zone.

Mickey noticed that this was a pre-earthquake map, showing California still joined to the mainland. The San Andreas Straight was painted in using blue water colour. Parts of the map, especially around Arizona, Utah, Nevada, New Mexico and the nearby parts of California, were pencilled over to indicate local sovereign nations. Republic of Dinetah was shown with the most detail, with Cactus Head marked prominently, but no Southern border. North of that was Central West Aryan State. To the East was the word, "USA" in large quotation marks.

There were a number of other Native American nations in the four state area. Other places were marked, some without clear boundary lines drawn, some with a question mark. Some borders, Francis told them, were in dispute, others didn't matter, such as the area near the ranch, which degenerated into unwanted mountainous desert. Yet others, they just didn't know enough detail, so they wrote down only the names.

'Show me the coordinates for the tower where your uncle lives,' said Francis.

Yorba Linda showed him, and he consulted the lines on the map, using a pair of callipers to measure odd number of degrees from the printed line.

'This map would show it as being here, but because of earthquakes, the true location would be here. I see there is a town called "Milfred". I don't know what sort of nation is there. It is in what used to be South Texas, far away from here, but close to the Gulf of Mexico. If there is a MCZ communications tower there, that means it is a nation that is not too hostile to the MCZ. At least, not Nazi or Christian Militia or any other redneck cowboy republic or Mafia turf. If you can get there, you might make it to the sea, and travel by boat to the South American Free States and find a Chinese Embassy.'

'But far from here, ah?' said Riu.

'Yes. Very far.'

'Just one question,' said Yorba Linda. 'Why is this one called "USA"?'

'They are a militant Christian group that claims to carry the original vision of the United States of America. Their aim is to retake all of America by force from the other nations and the MCZ.'

'Militant?' queried Mickey. 'How does that fit in with Christian?'

'They believe that the Mayflower Compact, the Declaration of Independence and the Bill of Rights are sacred, like the Bible. To them, the right to bear arms is as important as Yeshua's command to love your enemies. They also say the Mayflower Compact, signed by the original settlers of the Massachusetts colony, gives all the lands of America to the white man to rule.'

'They have Bible, ah? Why you not get Bible from them?' asked Philip.

'They refuse to allow it because we do not follow Yeshua according to the culture of the white man. Even though we do nothing that the Bible prohibits, they still say we corrupt the Gospel with pagan ways. The other reason is, Chief Red Eagle and the elders of Dinetah do their best to prevent anyone from receiving Bibles from the outside, especially from them.'

'And they can corrupt the Gospel with their guns?' said Yorba Linda.

'I find it hard enough to keep my mind clear without passing judgement,' said Francis.

* * *

The whole community, consisting of the workers on the ranch, in addition to a number of others from neighbouring farms, were gathered around the fire pit at the end of the canyon near a waterfall. The fire was roaring, but a few hot rocks and coals had been pulled out to the edges, where an abundance of fresh lamb was roasting.

Several people, including Francis, had drums. There were also a couple of flutes, some rattles, a guitar, a mandolin and a mouth harp. Francis was leading, while everyone took their cue from his drumming. A couple of times, he broke into a song in the Dineh language, and the rest joined in.

Then, the singing subsided as people brought around some roast lamb and fry bread along with some salad to go on it.

Francis began speaking while most of the people were yet eating. The Asians had no idea what he was saying, though it appeared he was telling them a story. Even the children were listening attentively, and every so often, there was a response, such as laughter, or a cheer, or a sigh of relief. At one point, Francis was half singing and half chanting, while beating on his drum.

Eventually, he wrapped it up. Then, he called to U Ta. 'Tell us your tribe's legend of the Golden Book.'

Fortunately, they had all had exercises in public speaking -- however, doing it from behind their on-line identity. U Ta seemed a bit nervous at first, but he began to pick up as he noticed the interest of his audience. He had to get used to speaking one sentence at a time, so as to give Francis a chance to translate. He sat where he was as he spoke.

When he was finished, Frances asked Mickey to relate how he happened to come by the memory chip of the 'Golden Book' he had brought them.

Mickey began with the chance meeting of his aunt at the terminal, then told their meeting with Samuel McFadden, his delivering the chip, and finally the hijack. When talking about his aunt, Francis took an extra long time to translate, Mickey suspected, adding his own experience of her.

After that, there was more singing, and then, when everyone was finished eating, some dancing to a lot of drum music. The seven guests were, of course, invited to join.

'This the "rain dance" ah?' commented Albert.

'No la, you singing make it rain!' said Seymour.

* * *

Again, the group was down for breakfast after the rest of the household had finished. They were well into their meal when Francis joined them.

'Fasting tomorrow, ah?' asked Albert.

'I let you choose. You need the miracle from the Great Spirit.'

He poured a cup of coffee and sat down.

'Now that you have brought me the Bible, I will put our server on line for part of each day, so others can download it.'

'Won't they just hack it again?' asked Mickey.

'I will not call it the Bible. I'll say it is the Golden Book of the Great Spirit. I will pick the best version, and substitute some words in the text for different ones that mean the same, but are understood by the Indian people. It will get hacked, but by then, everyone will have downloaded a copy.'

After breakfast, Riu decided to join the others horseback riding. Philip tried again, in vane, to hack through to China.

* * *

The four followed Francis on their horses, this time, on an excursion into town. Paco took the rear, leading about five pack mules, laden with vegetables to deliver to the market. On their return, they would bring the weekly shopping for the ranch.

This was a much more pleasant journey than their first time to Cactus Head, both because they were riding, and they had their wide brim hats to keep the sun off.

As they passed the community at the head of the canyon, both Francis and Paco loudly exchanged greetings with several people. At least twice they would paused in front of a hovel to call to the residents, and converse in Dineh. Paco presented one of them, an old woman, with a bunch of turnips. She said something which was obviously a thank you, and also greeted the four Asians in Dineh.

Albert responded, 'Ha ha, same to you, la.'

Seymour answered with some words of Dineh that he had picked up.

The way into town took them past Ham-bone's communications tower. The place looked quiet.

Finally, they turned onto the main street, the opposite direction from which they had come the first day. Not far down the road, they noticed an outdoor market. Some of the stalls that lined the main road were open, but other parts of it were being set up.

Paco began leading the mules into that area, while Francis dismounted and directed the four to tie up their horses.

'The big market is tomorrow,' said Francis. 'It is for selling produce. Other sellers are open today. You may want to look around. Here, I will give you something to spend.'

He proceeded to hand them each a few coins.

He shouted something to the sellers nearby.

'I tell them you are my friends, and not to cheat you. I have business to attend to. Meet me here at noon.' He pointed to a clock embedded in the wall above a door across the street. Then, he went walking off, and the four began to look around.

The coins he had given them were old American quarters, with some Mexican and Canadian coins, that had holes punched in the middle, and a tiny bit of gold pressed in. There was some sort of seal stamped into the gold on both sides, which made the whole coin look like a coin within a coin.

The four browsed the stalls, tried a few treats, bought one or two handicrafts -- Albert got a bead band to put around his hat. Riu and Seymour both attempted what Dineh vocabulary they had picked up, and learned a few more words in doing so.

At noon, they met Francis and Paco back where the horses were tied up, and they rode in the direction from which they came, but went on past the lane that led towards the ranch. Then, they stopped and tied up the horses in front of the tavern where they had first met Ham-bone.

'Lunch,' said Paco cheerily.

They went in. The first thing they saw was the familiar white buttocks above the wide belt line -- Ham-bone.

'Mr. Hamm,' Francis addressed him.

'Yo!'

'Do you have the three solar panals I ordered?'

'Yeah man! It came this morning by robo-post. Wanna stop by this PM I can fetch it for ya.' He sounded as though he had been consuming a generous amount of what was in the bottle in front of him.

'How about if we eat, then we go while you are still able to stand up,' suggested Francis.

'Well -- alright.'

They took their seats at the bar and Francis put in an order for six bowls of chilli and corn bread.

U Ta ended up next to Ham-bone.

'You'll like the chilli here,' drawled Ham-bone, 'Not like that stuff from the cans I'm trying to get rid of -- haw haw haw,'

'How much are you trying to get rid of?' enquired Francis.

'Almost two whole crates full! Go'n cheap!'

'Cheap? How much?'

They bargained back and forth and Francis decided to buy the lot.

'I will collect it when we come for the solar panals.'

Their chilli and corn bread arrived. It was much better than the canned variety.

U Ta ventured a question. 'Why did you come to live here?'

'I'm serving a life sentence!'

'For what?'

'Fer know'n too much! Just like you!'

'How did you learn it?'

'By ask'n too many questions, and ask'n the wrong people. But one question, in particular, got it started.'

'What question?'

'Why is it that when I connect to the satellite links, when I look at certain parts of the country, I always see the same old thing -- like the same people go'n shop'n in the same places at the same time of day, every day? I asked the wrong person. The right one would have told me, "Mind yer own business and don't go spy'n on the same places at the same time every day." Instead, he gave me a code key to get my computer to look at different satellite links. Then, I started see'n what was really there. Then, I started ask'n too many more questions, and again, I asked the wrong people. If I'd asked the first one, he'd have said, 'Shut up if you know what's good fer ya,' but I didn't. Instead, they told me, 'You're so resourceful and have such an enquiring mind, we need you.' They needed me, all right. They needed me as far away as they could throw me, right here. As for the dude who gave me the code, they shut him up real good!'

'Is he at a comms tower too?'

'No way! With his knowledge, he'd hack himself back in. I don't know what they done to him, but I just know he ain't talk'n.'

They had finished, and Francis decided it was time to start back home.

Ham-bone grunted and heaved, as though removing himself from a barstool were a day's work. They walked the horses and mules as far as the communications tower. Ham-bone brought out the crates and the equipment Francis had ordered. There was enough spare room in the mules' packs for the tins, so they set off.

At the mouth of the canyon, Francis and Paco called to several people along the way, all of them looking quite poor, and distributed the cans of chilli. To the old woman, Francis gave two cans, plus a bag of something he had bought for her in town.

Then they were off for home.

* * *

Even though the younger children bathed around the pump, Albert Fong soon realised that that wasn't the place for him. Though Philip Kumar could get away with it -- he usually chose not to -- the advanced adolescent state of Albert's body marked him as someone who needed a more private area.

One of the men who had just finished his shower gestured to Albert that the room he had used was now vacant. A couple of the mothers chuckled as Albert took the hint.

To be sure, it wasn't difficult to spot a naked adult body, even in the bathing stalls. It was either trying too hard, or making it too easy, that was taboo. Albert was clearly guilty of the latter.

Perhaps it was the slingshot effect of being suddenly released from the restrictions of Singaporean society -- whatever. He was sure they were still talking about him outside.

So much for the adventures of open bathing!

He was nearly finished -- but -- his towel!

Suddenly, he felt too embarrassed to walk out to get it.

He peeked around the corner. Most of the people didn't speak English.

There was Philip. He was looking for an empty stall. They were all taken.

'Hoi! Philip! Get me my towel la!'

Philip hesitated. Then he grabbed it and walked over, letting his own drop off as he entered. There was still enough water in the bucket for his bath.

'Hey -- no hard feelings ha?'

'Okay la.'

'You're cool kid even if you're pipsqueak. We in this mess together, find a way out, ah?'

'Yeah.'

'You fast tomorrow?' Albert said.

'Maybe.'

'Don't really want to fast, but must pray to get home!'

'Pray to who?' Philip asked, after a pause.

'All, la! To Buddha, to Great Spirit, to Vishnu, to Muhammad. Fast, maybe someone answer, ah?'

'Ah. Me too.'

'What Mickey say about envelope and memory chip. You believe?'

'I go with him in Bangkok, meet auntie, give him the envelope. And the memory chip -- that man who bring the memory chip, you know? We see him at McDonalds day before, promise to get us the chip, not say where he live or where we go, but he come right to the terminal with the chip, ah? And Mickey's auntie give him letter for Francis promise him memory chip! Either it's Great Spirit, or the man and Mickey's auntie work with the Nazis!'

'No way la! I think pray only to Great Spirit better.'

'Me too. To the god Jesus, I think, but Francis call him Yeshua.'

Philip had finished scrubbing, and poured the rest of the water over himself.

'Miss your family?' asked Albert.

'Yeah.'

'Me too, la.'

They walked back together, draped in their towels.