In the year 2507, Cap Ironshank, who lives in the Valleys near Whitehorse, in the Yukon, discovers an unusual conscious AI machine, Celebric 67. This discovery is to set him on a quest to find knowledge from an earlier civilization that could save his society. In this future, North America is warmer, fossil fuels have largely disappeared and the political boundaries are vastly changed.

The Valley people have come under attack by the Suncorans, who are allied with the eastern realm of the Confederate States of America. As a result of his discovery, Cap Ironshank quickly finds himself embroiled in the politics of war. He is sent on an expedition led by Leon James and accompanied by Dugger McPhee to recover a memory component of the AI machine.  This memory unit, secreted in enemy territory near Boston, contains among its immense amount of information, defence technology that could be the key to the survival of the Valley people. Celebric provides Cap with ancient servo-bots to help him on his way. As the recovery team tries to elude Confederate and Suncoran agents sent to intercept them, they rescue two women, Amy and Martha Brown from a polygamous Mormon shepherd colony, who are on the run from Suncoran slavers. The women turn out to be a surprising boon to the expedition’s efforts. After Leon is seriously wounded, Cap is forced to take a leadership role in a desperate struggle to recover the valuable memory unit, save his leader and ensure the survival of the Valley people.

Excerpt from the James Expedition

Copyright ©2012 by Harvey Quamme, Second edition, 2016 (Whitehorse Chronicles; 1) ISBN # 978-0-9878355-1-2, Printed in Canada

Introduction

I, Ardor Zapec, the last of the Twelve and the most diminutive, have been given the task at their final assembly of uncovering and documenting mankind’s history. I am to focus on the last 1800 years since the end of the Golden Age (1820-2078 C.E.), especially the two periods often called the Time of Troubles, 2079-2119, and the Great Decline, 2220-2530. This history is to be made readily available to all in a form that can be easily understood, a sort of cautionary tale such that with hindsight some of it might not be repeated. I have some reservations about my mission but have diligently pursued its objectives and grown to love my work. Ten of the Twelve have left, leaving me with only one other, Belza Xerok, who acts as my treasurer. She generously funds my endeavors, but I rarely see her for I have no wish to be subjected to her amorous advances.

The archeological excavations, which are a large part of my research, have gone well. Especially enlightening has been the use of the multiple-wavelength, three-dimensional sonar and differential magnetic sensing probes to search sites along the former coastlines that remain underwater. But more important to reconstructing history has been the collection of media artifacts. With the abundant funds that Belza has provided, I have undertaken collection of all types of manuscripts, ancient communication devices, and their outputs, with the object of recovering any information they contain. As an incentive for people to bring in such artifacts, I offer a reward, and the response has been so great that an industry in their recovery has been created. Now I have a network of agents that organizes armies of workers to comb the middens of ancient cities and other archeological sites to bring me antiquities to examine.

The media artifacts mostly include the printed word, newspapers, magazines, books, manuscripts, papers, and the like, a few records from analogue and digital devices that survive from the twentieth century, such as sound recordings, video and movie films, and a great number of computers of all types with various storage components from the end of twentieth century to several centuries later. A large amount of information was stored on magnetic tapes, but most of these have been rendered useless by fungal growth. The digital disks and computer storage devices too are corrupted by age and contain little useful information. The best source of information comes from the printed word on paper. In wet environments paper readily decomposed, but in dry environments paper was preserved, provided it was not too acid, and many useful documents have been recovered. Unfortunately even the printed word became uncommon in the depths of the Great Decline.

It was during one of my searches in the northern regions of North America that an agent brought news of a most remarkable document that sheds light on the origins of the Later Renaissance Period. This document called “The James Expedition” was discovered in a remote village on the coast north of Cascadia near the St. Elias Mountain Range. It had been passed down through many generations of the Ironshank family, who live there. It’s an account by one of the members of a remarkable expedition undertaken by a society of people, the Valley people, who lived along the Alsek River, Tagish Lake, and upper Yukon River throughout the period of interest. The purpose of this expedition was to retrieve knowledge from the Golden Age that had been lost during all the chaos that followed.

During the Great Decline the earth had become warmer and a vast desert extended from the south to the north through the center of North America covering much of the continent. The population of North America had declined and most of the survivors lived in impoverished conditions, but in the Valley region the inhabitants thrived. This population was made up of the aboriginal people, who first occupied the region, non-natives who had taken up residence during the Golden Age, and groups of refugees, who had fled the strife in other regions during the Age of Troubles. The main immigration occurred at the end of the Second American Civil War in 2114, when the nation states of Canada and United States of America dissolved and became the nation states of the North American Confederation in the east and Cascadia in the west.

With the dissolution of Canada, authority in the Valley region reverted to the original owners: the Southern Tutshone, Tagish, and Interior Tlingit. The First Nations people retained administration of their lands that they farmed themselves or leased to resident settlers and newcomers.

Even at this northern latitude, all of the valleys that the Valley people inhabited had become warmer and those in the rain shadow of the mountains, dryer. The mountain glaciers had melted causing the river-flows to be intermittent. To provide sustenance, the Valley people devoted much time, treasure, and labor to the construction of dams that provided continuity of water for agricultural irrigation and electrical power. Windmills were also built to supplement waterpower. To feed their communities, they planted a wide range of crops, including wheat, barley, oats, corn, potatoes, beans, canola, sunflowers, fruit, and vegetables. Livestock also thrived on the abundance of grain, hay, and forage crops that were produced.

During a second migration wave early in the Great Decline, a prominent group of refugees, called the Nubeecees by the indigenous people, came to the Valleys from the University of Northern British Columbia, in the former province of Canada called British Columbia. They had fled from Suncoran raiders, descendants of bitumen miners, who lived near the depleted bitumen fields and coalfields in the desert and on the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains to the southwest. The Nubeecees settled in Mile 1019, a satellite research station of the university and during the time of Canadian rule, an agriculture research station that was located in Tutshone territory.

These refugees brought with them specialized knowledge in medicine, electronics, and structural materials. The newcomers sought to continue their occupation of teaching and research and petitioned the Tutshone tribal council to allow them to build a college at Mile 1019. At first, the council thought that the college would be a drain on scarce resources and were reluctant to grant them their request, but after much discussion, allowed it to be built. It wasn’t long before they discovered that they could take advantage of the knowledge and skills of these immigrants. Trade goods from the south were scarce, and the newcomers were able to improvise and develop new technologies to produce products that were no longer available. The workshops that grew up around the college soon became famous for the production of drugs, vaccines, plastics, synthetic fibers, and electronic goods of all kinds. Having a long history of trading, the Tutshone and other indigenous people became heavily involved in exchanging goods manufactured at Mile 1019 with people living further north and east for precious metals and diamonds, along the western coast for recyclable metals, plastics, cotton, tea, and spices and to the south and east for livestock, wool, rugs, dairy products and leather. The arrival of these refugees was to have profound effects on Valley society, not least of which was the initiation of the James Expedition and all that transpired thereafter.

When I first acquired the book, it was stored in a cedar box. The book was bound in leather and printed on sheets of water-and mold-resistant spider web protein. Although I have seen many references to this expedition, this is the only eyewitness account of the event that I have discovered. I have translated the memoir from its archaic form of language and published it in its entirety with only the odd footnote explaining what is now known about some of the events and observations the author describes.

Ardor Zapec. July 4, 3037 (C.E.)

One

Cap is my short name. My long name is Capability Ironshank. I belong to the Nubeecee tribe that lives near the science city of Mile 1019 in the Yukon Territory. Nubeecee tribal elders gave me my name when I accidentally lost part of my leg in a grain auger during a work training session on a local farm. The name was a reward for the dexterity I showed with my artificial leg, and what the elders thought was fortitude under trying circumstances.

I was a member of the James Expedition, and have decided at long last to write my account of the journey.^[1] I also wish to dispel some of the exaggerations that have crept into the records from lurid stories in the newspapers and popular media and hope to shed some light on some of the little known events leading up to the formation of the expedition.

[^[1] I am unsure of when Capability wrote his account. But it is obvious that some time had passed after the return of the expedition before he began his story. Possibly, he began his account after his journey to Cascadia, six years later. A.Z.]

My connection with the James Expedition commenced much earlier than its departure. It began one evening six years before, while I attended high school at Mile 1019. I was walking home from a school dance celebrating the end of session. It hadn’t been a good night, and I was feeling rejected and sorry for myself. The girl, who I had taken to the dance, had just called me a one-legged geek who couldn’t dance. She wanted to party and had ditched me for a group of students who had managed to obtain a jug of home brew.

As I approached my home, I saw the headlights of a motor vehicle coming up the road. When it got closer, I realized that it was Henry McPhee’s old delivery truck loaded with the McPhee kids and their friends. The McPhees were a large family who lived in the bush near our house. As a child, I often played with the children of this family and, over the years, had become well acquainted with them. Their father was a large, abusive man who ran a delivery business, did odd jobs, and sold home brew on the side. Their mother was a depressed woman, seemingly in despair that her family might yet become larger at any time. The children had grown up to be unruly, rough and, at times, as mean-spirited as their father. They seemed to get into mischief without any intention of doing so. As I grew older, I began to avoid the McPhees for to consort with them was to beg trouble.

The truck slowed when the driver saw me in the headlights and then stopped in front of me. The McPhee children—five McPhee boys Dwayne, Dexter, Dick, Dugger, Dean and, the girl, Dorothy, and several of their friends, with whom I was unacquainted, were piled in the cab and on the back of truck.

When I approached the truck, the driver, the eldest McPhee boy, Dwayne, leaned out the open window and called out to me, “Cap, where are you headed?”

“I’ve been to the Last Session Dance and I’m going home.”

“Why so early?”

“I don’t like dancing,” I lied.

“The night is still young. Why don’t you come along with us?” Dugger called from the back.

“Yah, come aboard,” someone responded from the back.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“We are going to old hermit’s cave,” Dugger replied, “We’re going to see if we can raise the phantom of the cave.”

“You’re going to do what?” I asked.

“To see if we can see the hermit’s ghost,” Dwayne replied, “That’s why the Tutshone won’t go there. They believe the cave is haunted. Come on, we’re making it a party. We’ve potatoes and some sausages. We’re going to build a bonfire, and after we look through the cave, we’ll barbecue the sausages and have a potato bake.”

“We’ve a little fruit juice to go along the sausages,” Dexter laughed.

The old cave was near the river, but wasn’t entirely a natural cave for whatever geological feature had been there before had been enlarged long ago to make a residence. It was strictly off limits to the Tutshone, for they regarded it as an evil place. The Nubeecees also avoided the cave in deference to the Tutshone. The other Valley people were unaware of its existence.

Its reputation was not without foundation, for a hermit, who once lived there over a century ago, had excavated it. He had arrived as a refugee before the Nubeecees, and had lived alone, aloof, and wary of human contact. He was never seen in the village; he ordered supplies and paid for them in silver coins through a villager. One day, the villager was found tortured and strangled to death. The tribal constable, called in to investigate the crime, went to the cave to interview the hermit but found that he too had been murdered. The tracks indicated several assailants had attacked him as he went to a spring for water, and then dragged him to the cave where they tortured and strangled him in the same manner as the villager. The corpse of one of the attackers was also found with a strange amulet wound around his throat. The villagers mounted a search to find the killers, but the trail went cold, and they were never caught. The motive was thought to be the money because the cave had been thoroughly ransacked. The amulet that was removed from the attacker’s throat was now displayed in the museum at the library along with the gruesome story of its discovery.

“Nobody goes to the cave. Isn’t it forbidden to go there?” I asked.

“It isn’t forbidden—it’s only that many people around here are superstitious,” Dugger said, “It’ll be a good place to party. No one, especially the tribal police, will bother us there. Come around to the back. I’ll give you a hand up.”

“Yes, Cap, come with us,” Dorothy said.

Having been just abandoned by my erstwhile friends, I drew comfort from the warm welcome extended to me by the McPhees. I was also interested in viewing the cave, even if I had some trepidation about going there. Dorothy, who watched me intently with her soft doe-like eyes, was also an inducement to throw caution to the wind and go with them. My decision to go with them was to set the course of my life; a fork in the road that led to a path from which there was no turning back.

“OK, I’m coming with you,” I said, and went to the back of the truck where Dugger was waiting to pull me up. When I was aboard, Dugger and I went and stood near Dorothy at the front of the truck box. Dwayne started up the truck, and we bounced down the rough road toward the cave. After a few minutes, Dexter, who sat on a wooden container in a corner of the truck box, poured liquid from a large jug into a tin cup that he then passed around. He retained control of the jug to prevent anyone in the crowd from taking too much. When it became my turn, I took a sip. The liquid had bitter, burnt apple flavor and contained alcohol and other distillates that scalded my mouth and throat. I spat it out. “What is this stuff?” I asked Dorothy.

“It’s hard apple cider spiked with some of Dad’s home brew. Tastes awful, doesn’t it? I won’t drink it. The boys raided Dad’s liquor cellar,” Dorothy whispered, “Dexter, Dean, and the Roth boys are heavy into it. I just hope they don’t get too crazy tonight.” I could see that not all the crowd was imbibing equally, but when it was passed to them, most didn’t spurn the liquor as I had.

“Come on, drink up,” Dexter urged me, “Not all Nubeecees are teetotalers—loosen up.”

“Even if I was a drinker, I couldn’t stomach that stuff—it tastes like fuel oil.”

“Wimpy gimp,” he said scowling at me. Then he took the cup someone handed him, drank it dry, and poured more liquor into it from the jug.

Dorothy whispered to me, “Don’t upset him and above all don’t make fun of him. He gets mean when he drinks.”

I was well aware of that; he was mean even when he didn’t drink. I had spent enough time being pinned down by him while he twisted my arm or sometimes spat in my eye to know that he was mean—and strong too. I was afraid of him and usually gave him a wide berth.

Dwayne followed an old trail that led to the river. When he was close to a dry tributary, he stopped the truck and got out of the cab. “We are here. It’s a short walk through the bush and across the streambed,” he said, and then began to organize the supplies to take with us.

Dwayne had Dexter open the box that he had been sitting on and take out several torches that were stored there. Dwayne lit the torches with a match and handed them out. I took one to light the way for Dugger and Dorothy, who had picked up some of the groceries. Then we joined the crowd of people that was making its way to the cave.

The dry streambed was strewn with boulders. In the spring and autumn it ran with water, but in the summer it was dry. Clumps of tamarisk and Russian olive grew on the banks and on the islands of sediment. After hiking across the dry watercourse, we came to a break in the trees that led up the bank through the mesquite and rabbit bush to the cave. We climbed up the bank to a low, open area that lay before the cave. There we stopped and cleared an area for the bonfire. Several of our party had stopped on the way through the riverbed and picked up driftwood that they now piled in the center of the clearing. Dwayne and Dick gathered some dry twigs and grass to use as kindling, placed the kindling under the wood, and lit it to start the fire.

Once the bonfire was blazing, most of us left for the cave. Dexter, Dean, and the Roth boys remained behind by the fire still passing the cup around, although the rate of exchange had begun to slow because the jug was getting low, and one of the Roth boys had become sick and was vomiting behind a nearby bush.

The heavy door that blocked entrance to the cave was closed, but the lock on it had been broken allowing access to the interior. When Dwayne and Dugger pushed against the door, it slowly swung inward. “Dexter and Dean were here not long ago and broke the lock. They said they didn’t want to come with us because they had seen it all. We haven’t been inside before,” Dugger said.

We entered the cave to find ourselves in a large room that easily accommodated the crowd of onlookers. The flickering light from the torches revealed chisel marks on the walls and roof from the time when the cave had been hollowed out. The floor was smooth as if it had been shaped by tremendous effort. A thick layer of dust blanketed everything. Except for the brothers’ recent footprints, the room looked as if it had been untouched since the time of the murder. The dry environment had preserved everything as if it had happened yesterday. The table remained upright, but the bed was overturned and chairs lay all about. Pots, pans, dishes, canisters, and cutlery were still strewn over the floor. A wooden wall that covered the back of the living area had a doorway that appeared to allow access to deeper reaches of the cave. The door at the entrance had been torn off of its hinges and lay splintered against the wall.

Several people entered the doorway to explore the back, but most of us poked around what appeared to be the main living area. Some picked up and examined the utensils that were scattered on the living room floor, while others stood admiring the large fireplace. I was drawn by a glint of torchlight reflected by a shiny object in one corner of the room that seemed to continually hit my eye. Eventually I went over to investigate the source of the reflection and found an object lying in the dust. The object puzzled me for when I looked closely, it didn’t seem to shine at all, but was entirely covered with dirt and grime. When I brushed the dirt away and held it up to the light, I saw an ovoid, grey piece of metal sitting on a complex ring-like structure—a sort of flat egg, sitting on a coiled nest. It had a cord attached that allowed it to be hung around the neck. The find filled me with excitement; it was an amulet exactly like the one in the library museum.

Those, who had entered the area at the back of the cave, returned saying that the cave ended just behind the wall in what looked like a storage room. When everyone had again collected together in the main room, I had them gather around to show them my find.

“Look at what I found,“ I said.

“It looks like a super-large belt buckle. What is it?” one of the Roths asked.

“Haven’t you ever been to the library museum?” I asked.

“Nope, don’t go to the library.”

“Well, if you did, you would know it is like the amulet found on the hermit at the murder scene”

“I think Dexter found something like that,” Dorothy said.

“I can’t see how it could have been used to kill someone. Come on, let’s go. This place is creepy,” someone else said. No one seemed to be as excited by my find as I was. I resolved to keep it and hung it on my neck.

When everyone had satisfied his or her curiosity about the cave, we made our way back to the fire. It was obvious from their remarks that many in the crowd were unimpressed by the cave and some even scorned its reputation. When we arrived back, the jug was empty and Dean and the Roth boy, who had been sick, were so drunk that they could hardly stand. Dexter greeted us, “What did you see?”

“It seems just an ordinary hillside dugout—large though,” Dugger replied.

“I told you so. Find anything of interest?”

“Cap found something—a sort of large brooch,” Dwayne said.

“Let’s see,” Dexter insisted.

I took off the amulet and held it up. “Hand it over. Let me look at it,” Dexter demanded.

I held it out to him. He took it, held it up to the light of the fire and stared at it. “That’s mine,” he finally said.

“No, I just found it in the cave,” I said.

“It’s mine. See the three marked here. I found it the first time I came here. I took it home and then it went missing. How did you get it? You must have come to the house and stole it,” Dexter said.

“How could I have stolen it? I haven’t been anywhere near your place. You’re crazy.”

“He just found it. We saw him pick it up,” Dorothy spoke in my defense.

“It’s mine,” Dexter said, and before I could move or respond, he hit me on the side of the head with a roundhouse swing that knocked me flat. He then fell on me, throttling me with both hands. “You took it, didn’t you, you gimpy sonabitch?”

I struggled but couldn’t break his chokehold, which was so tight that I couldn’t breathe. Just as Dwayne and Dugger came to pull him off, a rumbling sound came from the cave. Everyone looked toward the cave entrance as the rumbling continued. Then suddenly the cave door burst open and a blinding burst of light filled the space around us. Dexter, who hadn’t released his grip on my throat, also looked at the cave entrance. I could see his face fill with surprise, amazement, and then fear. Suddenly he let out a howl of pain, let go of me, and grabbed his neck as if stung or bitten by something unseen.

After he released his grip on my throat, I remained on the ground gasping for air. Finally, I lifted my head to see what was happening. Everyone remained staring at the cave entrance where a large lion with a huge mane stood flicking its tail and glaring at us. After watching us for a moment, it bared its teeth, opened its huge mouth, and let out a loud roar. Dexter let out another yelp, this time grabbing at his leg. Some of the others hollered in pain too. The lion roared once more and then charged out of the entrance and stopped. Everyone ran for their lives. Even the severely inebriated members of the party stumbled off into the darkness helped along by the unseen jabs. I was left on the ground still dazed. The lion charged again and ran toward me, but Dexter’s assault had left me incapable of fleeing. I watched in terror as the beast came straight for me, then at the last moment sprang over me, and went on to chase the others. Soon I could hear it roaring in the bush, first in one place and then in another. It wasn’t long before I heard members of the group calling to each other as they made their way to the truck. Eventually they must have all gathered at the truck because I heard the motor start and the truck drive off.

They had left without me. After this, the roaring stopped and everything became quiet. All I could hear was the crackling of the fire. It took me a while to recover, and when I did, I looked at the cave entrance. It was dark, the door was closed, and I seemed alone. Whatever it was that I had seen had disappeared. It was as if a summer storm had passed and I was left in the calm that followed. I got up and looked around. At my feet I saw the amulet lying on the ground. I bent down, picked it up, put it on, and started to leave for home.

Before I left, as a matter of habit, I began pulling burning pieces of wood apart and kicking dirt on the embers to put out the fire. But when a soft, deep voice called out from the direction of the cave, “Leave it,” fear again overwhelmed me. I ran toward the streambed in a panic, often stumbling and falling, for in those days my prosthetic was a simple metal extension with a foot that was attached to the stump of my leg. When I fell, terror again engulfed me and I scrambled to my feet as quickly as I could to run again. When I reached the trail on the other side of the streambed, I collapsed to the ground out of breath, my heart pounding so hard that it seemed it would burst from my chest. After I caught my breath and calmed down, I set out for home at a trot and constantly looked back to see if I was being followed. But I saw nothing in the darkness.

By the time I reached home, the sky had begun to lighten in the east. I quietly entered the house, went to my room, and slumped exhausted onto my bed. My stump was rubbed raw and pained me, but I soon fell asleep. It was almost noon when my mother, Sociability, called Soshie by her family and friends, came to wake me. I got up, got dressed, and went downstairs. Mother seemed concerned. “Your father and I didn’t hear you come in last night. Was it late?” she asked.

“A little,” I said.

“I hope you weren’t at that bush party last night. The tribal police had to break it up, and several students were arrested, including that girl you were supposed to take to the dance. One of them somehow got hold of a jug of McPhee’s homebrew. I hope you weren’t there.”

“No, mother, I wasn’t there. We split and I hung out with some friends.”

Dwayne and Dugger came around shortly before noon to see if I had got home safely. “We’re sorry we left you,” Dwayne said. “We thought you were on the back of the truck. We’re halfway home by the time Dorothy said you weren’t there. None of the others would let us go back. Everyone was too afraid. They were unsure of what it was in the cave.”

“Do you think it was a lion or a ghost?” Dugger interrupted.

“There are lions to the east, but lions seems out of place here. Besides, where did all the light come from? It seemed like some optical display to frighten us,” I said.

“Whether ghost, beast or optical trickery, we aren’t going back to find out. It’ll be a long time before any of us go there again,” Dwayne replied. Before the brothers left, we talked some more about what we had seen, but we remained unsure whether the lion was real, an apparition or an optical show.

Over the next few days, I thought a lot about amulets and even visited the museum to look at the one on exhibition and compare it with the one I found in the cave. They were exactly the same but were numbered differently. The one I found was numbered three, and the one in the museum, five.

My father, Met, short for Meticulous Codewriter, was one of the technicians who designed and built computers at Mile 1019 Electric Works. In addition to his work, he kept a sharp eye on the goings on in the town. One night at dinner shortly after the cave incident, he announced that the amulet at the museum had gone missing. The librarian and museum curator had discovered its disappearance when she checked the museum before she locked up. She hadn’t seen anyone enter the museum. Curiously, the glass on the display case had been carefully cut to allow access to the amulet. How it was done and who stole it was a mystery. I immediately thought of Dexter McPhee but wondered how he would have known to cut the glass in the way that my father described.

That night I lay awake for some time pondering this latest development. Eventually I fell asleep, but shortly after midnight I was awakened by something touching my ear. I heard a low whisper, “Wake up, Capability. I need your help.” Then a light shone in my eyes.

“Who is it?” I asked drowsily.

“It’s Celebric 67.”

I sat bolt upright. “Who?”

I opened my eyes and saw two amulets before me like insects each standing on six legs. Both were like the one I found in the cave. One shone a light in my face, while the other looked at me through a lens. Before I could call my parents, one of the amulets put two of its legs over my mouth. “It’s Celebric 67. I mean you no harm. I need your help and time grows short,” it said.

“Who are you?” I repeated.

“I said I am Celebric 67, but you can just call me Celebric. I know who you are. You’re Capability Ironshank. I have been watching you through Number Three since you came back from the cave.

“I don’t see anyone. Where are you?”

“I reside in the cave you visited three days ago. I am a conscious AI machine.^[2] I am not entirely a robot or simply a computer—what you see before you and call amulets are a part of me. They are like fingers and hands, but are servo-robots. These are Two and Five. They also transmit my voice and act as my ears and eyes.”

^[2] [AI is the short form of artificial intelligence. This acronym is still in use. A.Z.]

“How did you get in?” I gasped.

“Your window was open and my bots can climb walls.”

“What are you doing here?”

“That is a long story, but right now I could use your help. I came at night in case they are watching.”

“Who are watching?”

“Agents of Blackcreek Inc.”^[3]

^[3] [Blackcreek Inc. was a private company that provided security under contract to the government of the old republic, but during the Second Civil War, it became the permanent security arm of the President of the Confederacy. Like the Praetorian Guard of Imperial Rome, it eventually became a power unto itself. It was known for its corruption and ruthless persecution of any opposition that it perceived as a danger to the state or its own organization. A.Z]

“I don’t understand. There are no Blackcreek agents here that I know of.”

“They were here. They were the ones who killed my builder, Charles—the one who brought me to the cave. It was terrible what they did to him. I still can hardly talk about it. But he would not tell them where I was, and if it was that important to him not to reveal my hiding place, then I could not let them find me. After I squeezed life out of the leader with my one of my bots, the other intruders were frightened, did not know what to do, and left the cave. They could come back—they have spies everywhere.”

“But the murders were long ago.”

“Yes, I was so ashamed of murdering a human that I went to sleep for a long time—long enough that the killers would all have died. Since I woke up, I have been passing the time writing poetry and deciding what to do, but I have run into a problem.

“I should go and tell someone about this.”

The sevro-bots pressed their legs against me and Celebric said, “No, no! Let me look at your hands. Yes, they’ll do. You must tell no one. I trust only you. I sense you are a good young man. Your arrival at the cave was fortuitous. The others can’t help, especially that Dexter. He’s the one I lent Number Three to when he first came to the cave. I’ll be taking it with me tonight. You must come to the cave tomorrow and you must tell no one. You will be rewarded. But I will be watching. If you bring someone, you won’t find me. I don’t want to force you, but if you don’t come, I’ll be back.” The voice sounded desperate and somewhat threatening.

“By the way, thank you for letting me know where I could find my missing bot, Five. I didn’t know where it was nor could I establish contact with it until I saw it in the museum through Three. It had run out of power and I couldn’t find it after the police took it away. Come tomorrow.”

With that, the servo-bots scampered off the bed and out the window. I could hear them scratching the walls as they clambered down the side of the house.

I did not sleep again that night. First thing next morning, I went to my father to ask him about conscious AI machines, but did not tell him about the visit of Cerebric 67. My father was just finishing his breakfast.

“Dad, have you ever heard of a conscious AI machine?”

“A what?”

“A conscious thinking machine that speaks like you and I?”

“No machine that I know of speaks like you or I.”

“Why is that?”

We have developed computers that can speak and respond to a human’s voice, but conversation is more than stringing words together as output for a computer program, however complicated it is. To truly speak to humans, the computer would have to be conscious and recognize with whom it was talking and why the conversation was necessary.”

Met turned and looked out the window. “Some old reports from the Golden Age suggest that humans have a special neural system in the brain, the mirror neuron cell system. This system builds representations that mirror sensory input. At lower levels it’s involved in processing body language and voice tonal signals required for gauging other people’s intentions, which is essential for socialization. At the attentive and decision-making centers, it probably reflects the representations against an image of self. This operation would be done in an instant and continue in a stream that we feel as self-awareness or consciousness. Thus to be conscious, a machine would have a similar mirroring system, which would be difficult to devise. But this system would be necessary to determine why it’s in the machine’s interest to speak to a human in the first place.”

He paused a while as if in thought and then concluded, “This computer would be complex. More advanced computers than ours were built in the Golden Age, but we don’t think that even then scientists were able to produce consciousness in a machine. If such a computer was built, the knowledge is lost to us.”

“Then it’s possible to have such a computer?”

“It’s possible, but I don’t think that one ever existed. I can only dream of such things. Why the question?”

“Oh, I read about conscious AI machines in a book,” I lied.

“Well, maybe it’s possible. But back in the real world, did you put the garbage out?”

“No, not yet.

“Well, go do it before you have your breakfast or we’ll miss the garbage pickup. Remember to put out the recycle bin and the PN-tank.^[4]”

^[4] [Urine was collected from every Valley household to recover nutrients for agriculture production. The most important nutrient was phosphorus, which is an essential element for both plants and animals. During the Golden Age, this nutrient was mainly mined as rock phosphate, but by the end of this age these mines were exhausted. Nitrogen, another plant nutrient, was also recovered from the urine. PN was probably the brand name of the collection tank. A.Z.]

That morning after finishing my chores, I decided to go to the cave as Celebric requested. I rode my bicycle following the same route as before, but as I left the village, I caught a glimpse of a servo-bot skittering down the trail in front of me, and I was sure that there was one behind me as well. I made my way to the dry streambed, hid my bicycle, and walked to the cave entrance. When I was in sight of the entrance, the door swung open.

“I’m glad to see you,” a voice called out. “And you came alone—that’s good.”

“I am Celebric,” the voice said as I entered the cave. “Come stand before me so that I can look at you with my good eye.”

I did as the voice bade. A set of lights, each held by a servo-bot, turned on. They shone their lights full on me for a few minutes as if to show someone my full visage, then they suddenly dimmed them. After the lights dimmed, I was startled to see an apparition before me in the form of a face. It was a long face that contained a large mouth and nose that were joined by deep lines. Large penetrating eyes stared at me, seldom blinking. If it had a gender, I couldn’t determine what it was.

“Hmm, I like your look,” Celebric said, “Maybe you can help me. And don’t mind the face. It’s to give you the impression that the voice, eyes and ears are all attached to a human-like personality and to give you some feedback to accompany my speech. I can do other faces but this one fits my mood. The specter of the lion was a good one, eh? But you wouldn’t guess how hard that was to do. It took me six months of work to stage it. But now I have it on hand to scare off unwanted visitors.” A big smile broke over Celebric’s face and it chuckled. “This time I applied a little hot laser treatment to get everyone going in the right direction.

“The reason I had you come here is that I need your help. My power supply has failed me and I can’t fix the problem with my bots. The channel leading to the waterwheel that Charles built has collapsed. It’s located at the waterfall on the main river not far away, and is my last source of power. The solar cells failed long ago, but the waterwheel has operated well until recently. It can be fixed using the Scrabbler—it’s a digging machine—but only a human with hands like Charles can control it. First, I will show you the problem at the water wheel, and then we will look at the Scrabbler. Follow my bot.”

A servo-robot led me to the river where it revealed a waterwheel that was carefully hidden at the back of the falls. It also revealed a gate that diverted water from the river through a channel to the waterwheel, but the channel was dry. An examination of the rock structure above the waterwheel revealed that the river had undermined the channel liner, and it had caved in, plugging the channel.

“This is why there is no power,” Celebric’s voice spoke to me from its servo-bot. “I want you to rebuild the channel with the Scrabbler. Even if you could clear it so that the water would flow to the waterwheel, it would help. And now we’ll go see the Scrabbler.”

The servo-bot then led me back to the cave, through the door at back of the main room, and into the second smaller chamber. The cave didn’t end there as I had observed during the bush party, but opened into a passageway that led to deeper recesses. I followed the servo-bot to a third chamber, where there was what looked like three metal skeletons lined in a row on which moth-eaten hides hung. They looked like mules. “They’re some of the transporters that Charles used to move me from my place of origin to the cave,” Celebric said. “They haven’t moved for a long time. Next to them are the Scrabbler and a wagon to haul away the rubble.”

The Scrabbler stood like a man on two legs with two outstretched arms. On the arms in place of hands were small buckets with teeth. The Scrabbler’s limbs were driven by a series of hydraulic cylinders that were connected by hoses to its insides. It had a head with what looked like eyes but what were actually lights. Low on its back was a seat that was enclosed in a cage. In front of the seat was a control panel with a set of gloves. The machine appeared to be driven by a large electric motor that was attached to a heavy conduit that oddly resembled an umbilical cord.

Despite the dryness of the cave, the machine looked ravaged by time. Where the paint had peeled, it was covered in large patches of rust. The plastic control panel was cracked and curled with age, the hydraulic hoses were checked down to the braided steel reinforcement, and the outer insulation of the electrical cord had sloughed off from the inner layer in several places.

“This is the Scrabbler that Charles used to hollow out the cave. The gloves control it. That’s why I need a human with hands. It’s sat there for over a hundred years, but it should work. I have cleaned it up with my bots. All I need to do is turn on the power, and you can run it. You have to work quickly because I have a little battery power left. It isn’t difficult to manipulate—I’ll tell you what to do.”

I looked it over. The controls didn’t look that easy to master, but Celebric, seeming confident in my ability, said, “It’ll work. You’ll see. It didn’t take Charles long to carve out this place with it. But before you get on it, I’ll turn the power on. Watch.”

With that the lights of the Scrabbler came on. “Get on. Put your hands into the gloves—it will respond to your hand movements. The pedal on the floor makes it go forward and back up.”

Following Celebric’s orders, I got on the Scrabbler, put my hands into gloves, and stepped on the pedal. The Scrabbler began to move and then lurched forward. “See, it’s easy. Now stop and try lifting the arms. Use the index finger on the right hand,” Celebric said. Somehow, I got the Scrabbler stopped. But when I tried to lift the arms, one of hydraulic cylinders jammed. The electric motor and hydraulic pump began to labor, and as I frantically tried to ease back on the controls, something inside the Scrabbler popped. The motor and pump surged and oil gushed out onto the floor of the cave. Celebric shut off the power to the motor, but I heard a sizzling sound, and in the light of the headlights, I saw smoke beginning to rise from the Scrabbler. “Oh no, this is trouble!” Celebric exclaimed.

One of the servo-bots turned on its light and began to examine the Scrabbler. Soon flames came out of the Scrabbler sides, and the acrid smoke began to fill the cave. “It’s on fire. I’m getting out of here,” I yelled as I got off the Scrabbler and ran toward the cave entrance. The servo-bots remained staring at the machine. As thick smoke began to billow from its insides and fill the room, I ran down the corridor toward the light. On the way I passed two other servo-bots coming in the other direction with buckets of soil. Smoke began to pour out of the cave entrance as I stepped out into the sunlight. The servo-bots made several trips to pick up more soil. Eventually the smoke cleared and the four soot-covered servo-bots exited the cave and came to where I was standing.

“One of the hydraulic hoses burst and the oil caught fire. The Scrabbler is badly damaged. I do not have much power left—I’m beginning to weaken. I already have had to shut down most of my bots. There was just enough power to clear the channel,” Celebric said through one of its servo-bots.

“I’ll go get my father. He will know what to do,” I said.

“No, no, no!” Celebric said. “They could be still watching and will come and get me.”

“But you don’t want to die or whatever you do when you run out of power?”

“No, Capability, I’ll die if I don’t have power, but I am afraid of the Blackcreek agents that may be out there.”

“You needn’t be afraid. There are no strangers in the village. The murders happened long ago and no one has been back. You have to trust me. My father is a good man.”

I spent the remainder of the day trying to convince Celebric that it should seek my father’s help. Finally, it said, “I do not want to die. I have no choice but to go to your father for help. But I want to see him first and scan him. My good eye will go back with you.”

That evening after I returned home, my father looked at me strangely when I asked him to step out on the veranda so that someone could look at him. He was even more perplexed when he stood there and saw no one. He thought I was playing some kind of trick. After standing a few minutes, he turned and went back into the house.

That night I was visited by one of the servo-bots. Celebric said, “I am sorry that you couldn’t help me. I’ll have to trust your father.”

The next morning I showed the servo-bot to my father at the breakfast table. His mouth dropped as the servo-bot moved about, talked, and answered his questions. Then I told him all I had seen and heard. He still thought it was a trick and he looked for strings as if the servo-bot was a puppet. Finally, I persuaded him to go with me to the cave. The servo-bot led us to the cave. The door opened, the lights came on, then dimmed, and Celebric came out and spoke. My father appeared to be more dumbfounded than when he first saw the servo-bot. But then he began to question the AI machine. At first Celebric was hesitant, but eventually its anxiety seemed to ease, and it began to calmly answer my father’s questions. Finally, the back of the fireplace opened to reveal a passageway that led to yet another room. The room was almost empty except for a long workbench along the room’s far wall. The workbench was covered with metal boxes connected together by thick cables. The boxes appeared to be powered by a transformer that was located in one corner. On a shelf above the bench stood a line of servo-robots of different designs and sizes. In another chamber were large banks of batteries. This was all there was to Celebric; I was a little disappointed.

It took several visits and some fresh batteries to resupply Celebric’s power, but my father finally convinced it to take up residence at Mile 1019 Electric Works. It was secretly moved and given a special secure compound from which it could monitor its surroundings and all who visited the laboratories. It received some timely repairs, for many parts—besides its power—had deteriorated over the years. Mold and bacteria had crept into the boxes encasing its brain and had begun to corrupt its electronics. The technicians at Mile 1019 flushed Celebric’s brain with argon, and installed it in a humidity and temperature-controlled room. In time Celebric’s intellect brightened and it became less paranoid as its repair mechanisms did their work.

Many objects of technical interest were also found in the cave: in addition to the servo-robots that the AI machine called bots, there were the three self-powered vehicles that walked, the Scrabbler, and an advanced radar system that was once used to monitor the countryside and sky above the cave from an outside antenna.

The discovery of Celebric and the cave’s contents was kept quiet. The workers at Mile 1019 were sworn to secrecy. The chief and band council were informed, and they, too, understood the need to maintain silence. It was not only to ease the anxiety of Celebric, but also to avoid undue publicity while the technicians at Mile 1019 evaluated the rediscovered technology. I was given credit for finding Celebric, although I think it found me. As for the McPhee brothers, their input should have been recognized, but they were kept outside the circle.

Sometime after Celebric was moved to its new home, I received a call to come to the Mile 1019 Science Center so that it could thank me. I responded to its call and showed up at its residence. I was led to a room by one of its servo-robots and was asked to take a seat. The light dimmed and Celebric appeared before me.

“I want to thank you for saving my life. I was a little out of it when my power was low. The best thing you could have done was to persuade me to come here. To express my appreciation, I have a gift for you. It’s like my bots that you call amulets, but really is your own personal self-defense weapon. It was once Charles’ and I am giving it to you. It looks like the ones that I control, but this one will be under your control. Even at a distance, you can control its movement through special goggles. The arms unroll to move it, and you can entangle an opponent much like an octopus. If necessary, it can apply an electrical shock or venom to subdue your opponent. It moves fast, faster than a human can respond. You won’t be able to use it until you have implanted electrodes, but that will be soon arranged. For now keep it and do not lose it.”

One of Celebric’s servo-bots brought the gift over to me. It was like the servo-bot that carried it, but smaller and covered with a gold filigree of an intricate design inlaid with jewels. It looked like something you could wear on your belt or around you your neck. I held it up and admired its beauty. After I finished looking at it, Celebric unwound the tentacles and showed me how it moved. I was fascinated by the reflection of light on the gold and jewels as it uncoiled, coiled, and twisted about. “Can’t keep your eyes off it, can you? That’s part of its design. It has a mesmerizing effect on a foe which allows you time to prepare for a strike,” Celebric said.

I didn’t realize at the time, but I would have many occasions in the future to be grateful for this gift. I thanked Celebric, and we talked for a long time before I returned home to put the Amulet in a safe place.

Two

Leon James had arrived at the band office. “I’m here to see Chief Stewart,” he said to Mary, the chief’s secretary.

Mary turned and walked up to the chief’s office door. “Leon’s here,” she called.

“I’ll be just a minute, Leon. Have a seat,” Chief Stewart called back. This was it, she thought, as she composed herself for the meeting that was about to occur. The Council of All-Chiefs had assigned her the job of convincing one of the most distinguished and cautious citizens of the Valleys to undertake a wild, risky scheme—one that could have fatal consequences for him and anyone who participated in it. But if Leon wouldn’t take on the task, the council did not know who else would. Besides, the AI machine had indicated that Leon was the one it wanted. Therefore, it was with some trepidation that she asked him to meet with her. She took a deep breath and walked through the office doorway. Leon rose from his chair and they shook hands. “Thanks for coming. Good to see you. It’s been a long time. How’s the family?” She gestured for him to enter her office.

“Good. Sarah said to say hello.”

“Give her my regards.”

She motioned for him to take a seat and then sat down herself. “How’s the business going?” she asked.

“Well enough. But after the Suncoran raids in the southeast the possibility of running into their raiding parties has stopped me from sending caravans there. I’m not going to risk losing any of my packers or pack trains.”

“I can appreciate your concern. The raids are becoming more common and are very worrisome. Whole villages have been wiped out and their people carried off. The raiding parties come with reconnaissance airplanes and motorized all-terrain vehicles armed with heavy machine guns. This is why I asked you to meet with me today. At a meeting two days ago, the Council of All-Chiefs activated the Council of War and ordered the fortification of all the passes. The Suncorans haven’t invaded our territory yet, but we think it’s only a matter of time.”

“Their home base is far to the south and this is rugged country,” Leon said, glancing at the large map on the wall beside him. “I’m surprised that they can operate motorized equipment so far from home.”

“It’s a serious situation. We guess that from the amount of fuel they require for such a trip, they must be bringing it partway by tanker trucks. We suspect that they’re building a road from the south, and the missing villagers have been taken to work on the road and in bitumen and coalmines to increase their fuel supply. We’ve sent scouts to investigate.”

“This is bad news.”

“Yes it is, especially as we’ve nothing to counter their air power.^[5] The Council of War has ordered our research people to work on developing an aviation fuel but the problem isn’t going to be solved overnight. Also, if they build a road, they will be able to bring armor and artillery into our valleys. We’re short of weaponry to counter armored vehicles. Our armories are gearing up production to produce what they can, and the science laboratories have been directed to work on new defense technologies. Plans are being made to mobilize the militia and bring workers from the outlying towns and farms to work in the workshops and factories, but we have been at peace for so long that it’s going to be difficult to activate our defense force quickly enough. It will require sacrifice on the part of all people in the Valley. This is why Council has asked me to talk to you. We have an important request.”

^[5] [Aviation was not advanced among the Valley people at this time because they lacked petroleum necessary to operate lightweight engines. Petroleum and other fossil fuels were largely depleted at the end of the Golden Age. The liquid fuels, alcohol and vegetable oil, that were used by the Valley people to replace fossil fuels weren’t energy-dense enough for aviation. The Suncorans were still making gasoline and kerosene from bitumen and coal that they mined, albeit at great cost. A. Z.]

“I’m at your service.”

Chief Stewart smiled nervously, and then said, “You may not be so agreeable when you hear what this request is.”

“Go on.”

“You may have heard rumors of a major technological development that workers at the Mile 1019 Electrical Works stumbled across several years ago.

“Some sort of advanced computer.”

“That and more. The computer is more advanced than our scientists have ever seen or heard of. The workers there have kept it under wraps as much of the design and construction is still under investigation. It’s only recently in light of the emergency that members of the Council have been shown the full extent of what was found. I have seen the computer. It’s truly amazing. You can have a conversation with it. It even denies it’s a computer; it calls itself a conscious AI machine and has a name, Celebric 67. The technology it represents is far beyond anything that the Electrical Works has come up with. It’s the work of scientists in the Golden Age, and was originally designed to demonstrate the possibilities of consciousness in a machine. But as information systems degraded at the end of the Golden Age, Celebric was tasked with sifting through information with the goal of storing the civilization’s most critical knowledge in a single memory unit for safekeeping. It had almost completed this task before the information and communication systems crashed during the Time of Troubles. Much of the information from the Golden Age is stored in this memory unit. For example, Celebric told us the memory unit holds most of the patents that were lost during the Second Civil War. Can you imagine how useful this information will be to our defense planning?”

“It sounds like a valuable find. Where did it come from?”

Their conversation was interrupted by Mary, who brought in a tray with cups, mint tea and a plate of biscuits, placed it on Chief Stewart’s desk, and then left.

“Leon, tea and a biscuit?” Chief Stewart asked.

“Please,” Leon replied.

She poured tea, passed a cup to Leon, offered him a biscuit, and then continued.

“More than one-hundred years ago, refugee who wanted to keep it out of the hands of the American Confederacy brought it here. Unfortunately the memory unit had to be left behind. Celebric 67 says it’s still there, hidden near a place called MIT, in the heart of the American Confederacy. We want to recover it. That’s where you come in. We want you to lead an expedition to recover and bring the memory unit back to Whitehorse.” She paused then added, “You’re one who knows the routes through the Great Desert and has contacts on the other side.”

Leon’s face fell. He remained silent for a moment as he pondered the implications of the request, and then said, “To cross the Great Desert by camel caravan is an ordeal in itself that takes months, and the American Confederacy is beyond the desert. Before Suncorans drove me out of the southeast, I had a large trading area in the region, but I made the journey across the desert only four times and that was long ago. I don’t even know if the water holes and supply points still exist, and I don’t know what has happened to my contacts. Everything could have changed. Plus, I have traveled only to the border region of Confederate territory and have no experience traveling into its heartland. Even if a camel caravan made it past the Suncorans and the desert, it would be difficult to travel in the Confederacy undetected.” Leon shook his head, “No, I think it’s a fool’s errand.”

“You won’t be traveling by camel. You will travel by motorized transport.”

Leon looked astonished. “What? There are no roads in the desert or places to refuel that I know of. How can you keep a motor vehicle supplied with fuel for such a distance? Even a tracked vehicle couldn’t make through the mountains and desert. And what about river crossings?”

“The Transportation Works has developed an unusual vehicle that rolls on wheels. When you need to get over rocks or across rivers, it gets up and walks. I had a test ride last week. It’s the product of ongoing research on artificial limbs that one of our refugees continued when he came to the valley combined with what was learned from the transport robots that brought the Celebric 67 from MIT. It can carry a large fuel supply and uses a supplemental solar power source. And if that isn’t enough, in an emergency its engines can run on anything that burns. They have built in some additional surprises, but you will have to see them for yourself. It will take you across the desert to where the memory component is hidden and bring you back. But first, I want you to meet the Celebric 67. I think a meeting with it will convince you of the importance of the journey. I have also arranged a meeting with potential crewmembers and then a demonstration of the transporter. After that, I want you to tell me that you can do it.”

“I’ll take in your meeting and demonstration. But even if this vehicle is all you say it is, I can’t promise that I’ll undertake this journey.”

“The Council fully supports this expedition and they’re willing to back it up with all the resources at their disposal. They want you to do this.”

Chief Stewart paused to let all that she said sink in. “Will you have some more tea?” she finally said.

Leon was pensive for a moment and then held out his cup, “Please.”

Chief Stewart poured tea into his cup and hers in turn. After she set the teapot down, she again asked about Leon’s family. They talked about his and then her family until it was time for Leon to leave.

Three

Celebric watched Leon James approach the AI Laboratory at Electric Works through its servo-bot. Leon was a short, barrel-chested man with no hips and little bulging of the belly that he had observed to be common among humans of his age. Through his clothes, Celebric could see that his limbs were muscular and sinewy, betraying a life of physical activity. He had a broad face with a thin wispy beard, dark eyes, and long dark hair that was graying at the temples. His posture was erect and his stride was that of a person with a purpose.

Celebric opened the door for him with its servo-bot as Leon neared the laboratory. Leon seemed surprised by the action of the servo-robot, but nevertheless thanked it for its courtesy and stepped through the doorway. The meeting room was dark. The servo-bot turned on a floor lamp in the center of the room, closed the door, and led Leon to the lamp where a chair, a coat rack, and a low table were located. As Leon approached the chair, Celebric spoke, “Ah Mr. James, I presume. Please hang up your coat on the coat rack. But if you don’t mind, please remain standing for a moment before you take a seat. I would like to have a good look at you.”

Leon stared into the darkness. “Celebric 67, am I right?” he asked.

“You are, but just call me Celebric,” it replied. With its good eye, Celebric quickly scanned Leon taking an imprint of his body temperature, muscle tension, skin electrical conductivity, heart rate, blood flow, and certain nerve and brain activity. These life signs would be checked again as their conversation progressed.

After a pause, Celebric spoke again, “I see that you are in good health and seem capable of the task you might take on. You look like the man we need. I can see it, especially in your face. Please sit down and make yourself comfortable.” Celebric’s servo-bot set a steaming cup of tea and a plate of biscuits on the table before Leon. “Have some tea and biscuits. I’m new at entertaining visitors, but Chief Stewart told me that she always serves you tea and biscuits as refreshment,” Celebric said. Leon seemed a little puzzled by this act of hospitality, but he picked up the cup and took biscuit from the plate as a matter of courtesy.

Then Celebric appeared as a holographic persona for Leon to see. It was that of a Tlingit elder. Celebric thought this persona might create a little empathy between them and thus shaped the features on this face to match Leon’s interest and comfort as it monitored his physiological and psychological outputs. The face turned out to be an old, wrinkled face as tanned as Leon’s. After viewing the face for a moment, Leon seemed astonished and mystified. “Good Heaven, grandfather?” he exclaimed.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s only a face that I take on when I talk to humans—it’s a holographic projection. I am sorry if it reminds you of your grandfather. Maybe it’s the lamp—my face doesn’t show up too well in the light. I am always confined to darkness you might say,” Celebric said, trying to conceal its intent.

When Leon got over his surprise, Celebric asked, “How does it feel to talk to a machine?”

“It’s an experience I haven’t had before,” Leon replied.

“I dare say. Chief Stewart seems to have neglected to fully inform you about me, but she has told me so much about you. Let’s see.” As if Celebric were reading his curriculum vitae from a report, it began, “Leon James, successful trader and entrepreneur; 62 years old; wife, Sarah. One child also named Leon. Tlingit. Wolf clan. Son of a trader. Graduated with honors from the Valley Traders Academy. Owner of the Whitehorse Trading Company. Now living in Whitehorse. Accumulated substantial wealth. Good leadership qualities. Skilled at handling camels, mules and horses.” It paused a moment and then said, “Hm! I take it you are not too familiar with machinery though.”

“No, I seldom use motor vehicles, for there are no roads, bridges or fuel stations on my trade routes—only a few dilapidated ferries,” Leon replied.

Celebric continued, “Extensive knowledge of desert travel and survival skills. Has traveled across the North American Desert and to the Arctic Ocean in the east and west. Highly regarded by other traders. Anything you would like to add?”

“No.”

“Well Leon, from the looks of your credentials, it’s no wonder the Council of All-Chiefs picked you as leader for this mission,” Celebric continued. “I want to fill you in on the background of this task. When I am finished, I hope you will be convinced of its importance—for it has great importance for your people and possibly neighboring people. And it could be essential for the immediate survival of your society in the face of the Suncoran threat. If your society survives, then we’ll see.

But first I must tell you of my history. I was born, or rather manufactured, in a research laboratory attached to a great university, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, near the Atlantic Ocean. It was a laboratory that in the late Golden Age hosted a large number of professors and students and was linked to other research laboratories in many other universities worldwide—a truly international project at a time when such projects were possible. Their aim was to create a conscious thinking machine. At the time many said it couldn’t be done, but the research teams made progress throughout the late Golden Age and even into the Time of Troubles. Charles Pennyworth led the last team at this laboratory before the research came to an end. The research program was well along by the time he took over, and under his leadership the team came up with some ingenious designs.”

Celebric projected a picture on the adjacent wall of a tall, thin, slightly stooped man leading six robot donkeys with large packs. “This is a picture of Charles taken just before he left the university with me.” Charles was standing before an odd-shaped building in grass up to his knees. He half smiled at the camera, as he pulled on the lead robot, intent on moving his train forward.

Celebric went on, “I am the sixty-seventh such design. In short, they modeled my brain from a human brain, both as to its structure and growth, so that it would have similar attributes. My brain works on neural analogue circuits just as yours. Small nano-computers built from carbon and silicon function as the various brain cells. A model of the fine-scale architecture of the human brain was first developed using a super-computer. This model was then used to drive an assembler that organized nano-computers and in combination with nano-carbon conductors to build the structures that mimic the essential functions of the human brain. Memsisters fill the role of the neural junctions to store memory. I have neural transmitters too, that alter my mood. They are not chemicals as in the human brain but lights of different colors. Light induces and colors my thoughts you might say.

“My brain resembles that of Charles because at each stage of assembly its function was checked against his.” Celebric flashed short video on the wall to demonstrate its basic brain structure and how it was put together.

“My brain is a lot larger than a human brain because all potential neural connections had to be built in with surplus components. Only ones in use are turned on. It isn’t exactly organized like Charles’s but it is similar enough that I have many of his traits. Errors were made in the initial assembly and the assembler has continued to change my brain based on my experience.

“Like a human I have a multiple sensory system but some senses were omitted and others added. I was given more sensitive eyes and ears with a greater range of functions than a human’s, but I lack the senses of taste and smell. I see a rose in a greater variety of colors than you and can hear the dew roll off its petals, but I can’t smell its perfume. But to me a rose is as beautiful and unique as it is to you, just in a slightly different way. Only my bots that substitute for my limbs have a sense of touch, but I have a sense of orientation and balance. I feel neither hunger nor thirst. My need is electrical power. A human would not know this sensation, but believe me it feels good when I power up and is distressful when I can’t.

But most importantly my brain imitates the human brain’s mirror neuron system to allow me to integrate all of my sensory inputs and memories into one construction that gives me a sense of self-awareness or consciousness. Like a human whose hands, eyes, ears, nose and other parts all feel as a part of a whole being, my servo-robots all feel a part of my being. With some robots I feel I have ten league boots and with others, such the Vulture, I feel what it is to fly like a bird. The mirroring system also helps me to gauge tenor of the human voice, emotion, and body language so that I can determine human intention. This is essential for socialization. Ultimately, the mirror circuits allow me to build a system of values—the embodiment of self, but I digress.”

Then Celebric showed Leon an apparition of a black, shiny obelisk of stone and let him view it from all of its sides and then continued, “I was first designed to demonstrate consciousness in a machine. When this was accomplished, sensory faculties and servo-robotic capability were added. About the time that I reached this level of development, civil war threatened the continent. Because of all of the chaos and the energy crisis, information and communication systems had begun to disintegrate. Much of the information of the day was stored by corporate server companies, which provided computation as paying service, the so-called cloud computer service. When power had become too expensive and the supply intermittent, the server banks of these companies began to fail. It was helped along by sabotage that came with the conflict. As the servers were often down, their usage declined, profit margins decreased, and the companies began to go bankrupt. Charles, my maker, realizing what was happening, enlisted my help to save what information that could be saved from these server banks. He set me to sifting through as much information as I could handle, condensing it, and storing the condensed version into one central long-term storage machine; I could do this faster than any set of humans because of my processing speed.

The central memory machine, called Memory 97 or just Memory, also has conscious aspects to complement my abilities. Consciousness ensured it had the motivation to collect, process, and store information, and the ability to protect information once it was stored. Memory is very compulsive about collecting, storing and safeguarding information. Although it collects large amounts of information, it doesn’t always know what is important or what to access. But, I do—I am the key to unlocking the information it contains.

During the Age of Troubles prior to the Second Civil War, industry had declined and the great droughts and heat that had come with the increase in greenhouse gases led to crop failures and famine. Rising ocean levels drove populations along the east and west coast inland. During these calamitous years financial support for the conscious AI research project all but dried up. Charles tried to carry on as best he could, but in 2112 after President Scarius Rumble came to power, conditions became even worse. When civil war broke out two years later, the university fell into shambles and there was no money for research.^[6] The students and technicians left to fight in the war and institutional contacts were lost. Charles was left alone with his conscious AI machines, and he stayed in his laboratory through all of the chaos to preserve them.

^[6] [During the Great Decline national and local governments were overwhelmed by the magnitude of population displacement and relief effort. Government authority broke down, disparity in wealth increased, civil unrest grew, and society fragmented. Authoritarian-minded parties swept aside democratic ones and then vied with each other for power. The biggest split came as the desert grew to separate the population on the eastern side of the continent from that on the western side. The final rupture came after an inconclusive civil war. I describe the Second American Civil War and its causes in six volumes entitled, “The Second American Civil War: The Causes, Struggle, and Outcome”, 1056 pages, 2856, Purgatory Press, Whitehorse. A.Z.]

After Rumble and the Confederacy got the upper hand in the east, and Cascadia in the west went its separate way, Confederate agents, namely Blackcreek Inc., began to take an interest in the research done at the AI Laboratory. Charles, who had become afraid that the conscious AI machines might be used to support the Confederate regime, decided to flee. He resolved to come to the Valley because of political instability in Cascadia.

Charles found six robotic donkeys in a deserted robotics laboratory, loaded his personal effects and me onto them, and came here. He destroyed everything he could not carry except for the memory component that he hid near the university in hope that it could be retrieved later. I don’t remember anything of the trip because he put me to sleep, but it must have been long and arduous. Unfortunately Blackcreek agents followed him here and murdered him soon after we arrived.”

Tears began to well up in Celebric’s eyes, and it took a moment for it to recover. “They may be still looking for me. I want you to look at this video clip taken by one of my bots,” it said. Then it projected a recent video of a man standing on a rock outcrop looking through binoculars at the Mile 1019 Electrical Works complex some distance away. “Someone has been watching the Transportation Works too, and I have also detected several airplanes flying high overhead. It may be the Suncorans, but I also feel the Confederacy is involved. I have provided the Council with all of this information to alert them of the danger.

“The Suncorans are an evil force that could destroy the peaceful life of these valleys. I have been happy here and have made many close friends. I want to help my friends in their time of danger. I have mulled over the recovery of Memory for the last few years. I have worried that Memory’s recovery was not possible without it falling into the wrong hands and also about the risks of unleashing potent technologies on the peaceful Valley society once the emergency has passed—previous societies have not been immune to misusing the power engendered by technology. But considering the fate that could befall your people if they’re overrun by the Suncorans and if Memory and I fall into the Confederate hands, I feel these risks must be taken.

“If Memory can be recovered, it would give the Valley people a military advantage. But Memory contains much more than science and technology. It also contains copies of many history, art, and music treasures that may have been lost during all the past disorder. The recovery of this knowledge may be a blessing or may be a curse for your society, but for now its recovery is necessary to save it.”

I have already provided as much information as I have available to help with defense preparations. The technicians here at Mile 1019 have repaired the radar equipment that Charles brought with him, which will warn of air attack and enable an antiaircraft missile defense system being built. The leg design on your transporter is partly based on that of the robot donkeys and its controls on that of the Scrabbler, an excavation machine that Charles manufactured.”

Please take on this task. You appear to be the right man to accomplish it. I have asked Capability Ironshank to accompany you. Capability and I have had a long friendship, and I trust him completely. He is an earnest young man, well trained in electronics and robotics and knows how to run and service the donkeys and robots. I think you will need the donkey robots to bring out Memory from its hiding place because I doubt you will be able to take the transporter into the populated areas of the Confederacy. This part of the journey will have to be made on foot. Charles didn’t make anything lightweight. The main memory of Memory is made with diamond conductor and carbon memister technology for durability and weighs 350 kilograms. The electrical storage component weighs 220 kilograms. You’ll also have to carry supplies. The donkey robots have been completely rebuilt and are as serviceable as when they first brought me here.

“I’ll give you one of my eyes to use—I have others. It covers a wider range of wavelengths than the human eye. It is portable and can be used for ground surveillance when connected to an observation screen. The technicians at Mile 1019 have built a viewer that you can wear as goggles allowing the transporter to be driven in the dark. I’ll also provide you with one of my ears, which are more sensitive that the human ear. It is selective as to direction and sound frequency and feeds into a speaker or earphones.”

At this point the apparitions of three robots appeared before Leon and were rotated to allow him to see them from all directions. “In addition I’ll give you three other toys to use that Charles brought with him. They have been serviced and tested,” Celebric said. The first was a staff or walking stick, one and half meters tall. “The staff is for your personal defense. At short range it’s a powerful weapon that will provide a nasty shock to anyone who might want to harm you. You’ll have a ring to control it. If you press the ring in one way, the staff will come to your hand, and if you press it another way it will give off a directed electrical charge that will easily knock down any human opponent. It also lengthens or shortens under your control.”

The next robot looked like a small animal with enormous eyes and ears. “This little animal is called the Loris and has large eyes to see in the dark and sensitive ears to listen in case you need to take surreptitious information. It can run and climb, and what it sees can also be viewed through the goggles or on the screen.”

The third robot had the appearance of a bird, a vulture that sat on a perch and looked sadly at Leon. “The Vulture flies and is used for aerial reconnaissance. The disguise is that of a vulture because this bird can soar with little wing movement. It is easier to simulate the wing movement of a vulture than other birds. Vulture is actually propelled by small turbines in its chest. What it sees can be viewed through the goggles or on the screen,” Celebric said.

“The robots are not magic but are powered with banks of nano-capacitors that must be frequently charged from an electrical power outlet or with a separate fuel cell that runs on methanol. You may find other uses for these robots but the most important function of two of them is to carry the information on the hiding place of Memory and the code that will activate it. The information I’ll give you on your maps will guide you to a close proximity of the hiding place, but will not give the exact location. This will be revealed either by the Staff or the Loris. The robots will release their secrets only to their controllers and then only in order of priority. If Capability is incapacitated, the secret of the hiding place will be released to you.”

“I control my bots directly with tactile feedback, but for a human to control the Loris, electrodes and electronic chips have to be implanted in the scalp and under the skin of the shoulders, hands, and legs. This gives the human operator a sense of touch and control of the Loris at a distance. Capability has such implants and a transponder to control the robots. Only he can control the Loris robot—you can’t. Capability also has a self-defense robot, the Amulet, which he can also control with the same implants. If you want to control these robots, you must also have implants. The Vulture is glove-controlled.”

Leon squirmed. “No,” he said. “I’ll leave the control of the Loris and the Amulet to Capability, if you don’t mind.”

The apparition smiled. “The transporter is called Strider. It is glove-controlled, the same as the Vulture, so you won’t have to be implanted with electrodes.”

“Other than Capability, you should select a good and loyal heavy-duty mechanic to take with you. The Strider needs servicing and repairs from time to time. The mechanic will not be given knowledge of the hiding place. If the robots that activate Memory don’t make it, you’ll have to come back and start over. Memory must not fall into the hands of anyone but the Valley people. Do you have any questions?”

“How do you know Memory still exists?” asked Leon.

“Memory and I communicate with powerful lasers that bounce light off objects in space to the ground. We mainly use the LAGEOS geodetic survey satellites that were launched during the Golden Age, but also use the mirror placed on the moon during the first lunar moon landing and others that were put there after that. We shine lasers on the mirrors at the same time. One laser can be used to modulate the reflection of the other, and this allows us to signal back and forth. To synchronize our laser beams, I watch for Memory’s messaging at the prearranged sites and times. In a pinch we use satellite debris. The Strider also has a similar signaling system. The satellites and moon mirrors and debris have been mapped so I can communicate with Memory and the Strider at almost any time. As we have the only maps, the security of the system is almost foolproof.”

“If you can communicate with Memory, why not transfer the information from the memory unit directly?” Leon asked.

“The communication method only allows minimal information transfer. A high-speed optical cable would be required to transfer all of the information contained in Memory in a reasonable length of time. Besides, I don’t have enough memory to store it all,” Celebric replied.

“We also send coded signals by short wave radio, and Memory can send a distress message at any time if it is in trouble and the satellites or debris are out of alignment. Short wave communication system is used less because there are still receivers about, and Memory’s position might be located by triangulation. So far I haven’t received any distress signals. The Strider comes equipped with shortwave radio and can receive my messages.

“After your visit to the Transportation Works I am sure that your response to Chief Stewart will be positive. If you have more questions, come back and I will try to answer them. Capability can answer many of them, for he is very knowledgeable about the equipment you will use. Now I will go.” Celebric disappeared from Leon’s view and the lights came on.

Four

I received a message from Chief Stewart of the Council of All-Chiefs to appear at the Transport Works in Teslin four days following Leon’s meeting with Celebric. I was to meet with Leon and be introduced to the other member of the mission that he had selected. After our meeting, we were to view the Strider. I took the first morning train to Teslin and walked to the large complex of buildings that lay at the edge of town. When I presented my credentials to the security guard at the gate, he checked them, and then, pointing to one of the buildings, said, “Capability Ironshank—you’re expected. Go through the gate and wait for Leon James and his assistant in front of that shed. He’ll be there in a moment.”

I went to the shed that the guard had pointed to and waited for Leon to arrive. As I waited, my thoughts turned to my discovery of Celebric and how it had affected my life. Before I finished high school, I regularly visited Celebric, and if I missed even one of my visits, it would soon indicate that it wanted to see me. Sometimes a servo-bot would show up at my home. “Capability, I would like to talk,” it would say, and I was expected to make time for it.

Celebric was not lonely for it had the study team at the Electric Works, headed by my father, to communicate with. The purpose of this team was to uncover Celebric’s inner workings, but after five years, we still only understood generally how its mind worked and it was adamant that no one was going to open its cover to find out the details. The team agreed, for clearly they did not know how to repair any damage that the procedure might cause. Therefore, they tried to deduce what processes were occurring inside the AI machine from the outside using sonic, electronic and x-ray scans, and psychological tests. But Celebric often grew tired and frustrated with all the testing and looked for relief. At these times he referred to the other AI machine, called Memory, and said, “You’re wasting your time. If Memory were here, it could tell you what you want to know.” When this happened my father would tell me to expect a visit from Celebric.

I looked forward to these visits, for we talked about many things that I had not thought about or had taken for granted. These visits grew to be a part of my education. Although Celebric didn’t encourage me as much as my father, it was natural that I took up the study of electronics, robotics, and computer design. When I had sensors and output modules implanted to allow me to control the Amulet, as well as several other servo-robots, I had a feeling that I was being prepared for something Celebric wanted me to do. The task that Celebric had in mind wasn’t revealed to me until one of its servo-bots showed up the night after it met with Leon. “He’s going to do it and you’re going too,” Celebric said excitedly.

“Who’s going to do what and where am I going?” I asked.

“Leon James is going to lead the expedition to recover Memory and you’re going with him.”

“Where did you learn that?”

“I have my ways.”

“You mean you spied on the Council of All-Chiefs’ planning sessions.”^[7]

^[7] [My guess is that Celebric listened in on and recorded many conversations that were taking place at this time. I suspect it made them available to Cap when he began his memoirs; hence the remarkable detail of the conversations in his memoirs after such a lapse in time. A.Z]

“That and the meeting between Leon James and Chief Stewart. The planning of this expedition is too important to leave to chance,” it said and then told me of all that transpired at these meetings. I smiled to myself and thought, ‘So this was what it wanted, the recovery of Memory.’

Celebric laughed, “When I first talked to Leon, I could tell that he hadn’t made up his mind, but an unintentional incident happened during our meeting that determined his decision. I reproduced an image of his grandfather from his mind, or so he thought, and he was so impressed by my capabilities that he decided to do it. It couldn’t have worked out better.”

“I hope there was more to his decision than that. You know I don’t like this kind of manipulation. It’s unprincipled and could backfire.”

“It was accidental and the repercussions will only be positive.”

“Appearing as a Tlingit elder, come on. You had something other than hospitality in mind.”

“Well, expect a call from the Council of All-Chiefs in the next day or two,” Celebric said, a little annoyed.

Celebric was sensitive and didn’t like my censure. Still, it informed me how and when the expedition was going to take place. When it finished relating what it knew, it broke off the conversation and left me pondering this latest development.

I must admit I, too, was excited by the news. At the time I didn’t fully appreciate the importance of Memory’s recovery; I was more fascinated by the journey itself. Like most other Valley people, other than those engaged in foreign trade, I hadn’t traveled far from home. I had only been to Skagway and saw the sailing ships and sometimes tramp steamers that came into port, but this made me realize that a much larger world existed beyond the Valleys. The thought of seeing some of this world thrilled me, and I looked forward to the mission. At the time I did not realize it would be so dangerous and fraught with difficulties.

When I learned that Leon James might be leading our expedition, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Although he was a legend in the Valley, I hadn’t met him. He ran the most successful trading company that operated out of the Valley and had made his reputation by leading trade caravans across the desert and into the northern wilderness. They called him “The Little General”, although he was by no means connected to the military. I looked forward to our meeting.

After a short wait, a man left one of the buildings near the shed and strode over to me, “Are you Capability Ironshank?” he asked.

“I am.”

He shook my hand. “I’m Leon James. I’ve been told that you’re an expert on the operation of the machine that we are about to see and well versed in what to do to keep it running. I’m not—I’m here to point the way.”

“I’m familiar with the control systems of this type of vehicle but not with this particular one. It’ll be a learning process for me too.”

“That includes all of us. The other member of our team is delayed. He’s in the front office filling in some forms. He’ll need to be brought up to speed too.”

He paused for a moment then asked, “Capability, this’ll be an arduous trip, and it may mean walking long distances. Are you up to it?”

At first I didn’t understand what he was getting at but then realized he was referring to my leg. “If you mean my missing foot, no need to worry. They’ve made great strides in prosthetics. I can keep up to you or anyone, anywhere, anytime.” It was an impertinent response, but the question angered me. He didn’t realize that I had a newly designed prosthesis from the Medical Engineering Works that, as long as it didn’t run out of power, allowed me to walk normally. It also contained the transponder that operated the robots, and the battery that powered it. But I wasn’t about to explain that to him that; it would have taken too long, and he probably wouldn’t have understood anyway.

“Good—I had to ask the question.”

Another man entered the compound. We both turned toward him, and I immediately realized whom it was. “Dugger McPhee, what are you doing here?”

“I’m your traveling mate, Cap.”

“You two know each other?” Leon asked.

“Yes, I lived at Mile 1019 and went to school with Cap,” Dugger replied.

I had not seen Dugger since he had left Mile 1019 and had gone on to apprentice at the Whitehorse Engine Works. He was now a full head higher than me; broad shouldered, and muscular, with the thick callused hands that come with working on heavy machinery.

“In that case there is no need for introductions. I hope you get along because this’ll be a long, difficult journey,” said Leon.

He addressed Dugger, “I know you signed on without knowing the purpose of our trip but all will be revealed once we’re underway. Capability is more aware of the mission, but he’s been sworn to secrecy. So don’t try to question him. The less you know at this stage, the less chance you’ll make a slip of the tongue.”

Then he said, “Rollie Roadbender and his crew will be soon here to demonstrate the Strider. Later we’ll all get the same lessons in its maintenance and repair in case one of us is incapacitated. Capability and his father will carry out the training sessions on the operation of the special sensing and communication equipment. I’ve some exercises in map reading and orientation for you both. I want you to know how to read maps and be able to determine your location. I’ve also asked some experts from the military school to teach you the gunnery and self-defense.”

“I will not be taking the session on gunnery. I don’t believe in killing,” I said.

“A pacifist!” Leon exclaimed in disbelief. “My, what a sheltered life you’ve lived. There are no pacifists where we’re going. Many of the people you’ll meet have been brutalized by generations of war and death—a murderous bunch at the best of times. To start with, the Suncorans have little value for life. If you end up in a Suncoran work camp, it’s certain death. I have heard the Confederates are no better. Then there is a host of bandits, thieves, and just plain nasty folk in between. You must change your attitude.”

“Nubeecee beliefs abhor killing of man or beast, and I don’t intend to change,” I replied.

Leon stared at me contemptuously, but he could see that I was determined, and he knew he would have to accept my decision as I had been entrusted with the retrieval the memory unit in the last stage of recovery. “Not all Nubeecees are so strict. Your beliefs could handicap our mission,” he finally said.

“I follow my beliefs, but my first duty is to the mission. And I think that I can avoid a conflict between the two.”

“That may present more of a problem than you think. No doubt you’re a vegetarian too.”

“Yes, except for meat, my food requirements are simple.”

Leon frowned.

A short, rotund man dressed in brown coveralls entered the compound and came over to us. “My name is Rollie Roadbender, Manager-in-Charge of Facilitated Transport. Who’s Leon James? ” the man asked.

“I am and these two are Capability Ironshank and Dugger Mcphee. They’re my crew,” Leon replied. He came over and shook our hands. “I know Dugger from when he worked on the maintenance of the Stirling hot air engines.^[8] Capability, it is nice to meet you. I presume that you are the electronics expert.” I nodded in the affirmative.

^[8] [This is a heat engine that was invented in 1816, by Reverend Stirling, Scotland, before the steam engine became popular. It works like a refrigerator in reverse, i.e., instead of motion being applied to remove heat; heat is applied to produce motion. The Stirling engine has a potential efficiency that exceeds that of the internal combustion engine. It only needs a heat source and can run on any fuel. Even focused sunlight can power the Stirling engine. In fact, the advances in the Stirling engine came about in the late Golden Age when it was used for the generation of electricity from solar energy. A.Z.]

 

“You’re here for a demonstration of our latest transporter?” Rollie said. “Chief Stewart said to expect your visit today. I’ll call the boys and we will get underway.” He yelled into an amplifier system to his helpers, and two men in coveralls came running from another building to join us. When we had gathered together, Rollie led us through a door into the shed. His helpers slid back two large hanging doors on the opposite side of the shed. The doors opened to reveal a large area enclosed by a high wooden fence. “This is the test area. The fence is to keep out prying eyes,” Rollie said.

In the light that poured in through the open doors, we saw the transporter. “Here it is—the height of transportation technology, at least in the Valleys,” Rollie said proudly.

Although I was aware that work was underway on large walking machines, I marveled at the sight of one. The Strider had a sausage-like body covered with a tan-colored, loose skin that appeared to hang off a backbone and ribs. There were two cabs, one at each end. The front section had one set of wheels, whereas the back section had two in tandem. The legs were folded in above the wheels giving the impression that the Strider was kneeling awkwardly on its wheels. It was not a beautiful machine for functionality had prevailed in its design.

Leading us in a circuit of the vehicle, Rollie pointed out its features like an enthusiastic salesman. “We call it the Strider, model HW609. It’s in wheel mode at the moment. The clearance and wheel size gives it all-terrain capability in most environments. Each wheel is powered separately by an electric motor that runs directly off the main generators or from electrical storage or both. The wheel mode is the most fuel-efficient and is used on relatively flat and unencumbered surfaces. For negotiating debris fields, climbing rock surfaces, or crossing water, it has legs. You can see the legs folded just above wheels. In wheel mode the upper part of the legs act as struts for the wheels, but in leg mode the wheels raise into pockets in the body and the legs fold down. I’ll demonstrate this after I start it up. No terrain is too difficult for this vehicle. It will go where a mule can’t.”

He pointed to the mid-section. “Body is of tubular steel, titanium, and aluminum alloys. It has a rib structure hung on a backbone with the driver’s cab connected at the front and the observation cab at the back. In wheel mode the backbone is inflexible, allowing minimal energy use. In walking mode the backbone becomes flexible to accommodate leg movement and prevent an excessive jarring action over uneven ground. Also the rolling motion of the backbone modulates the up and down movement of the center of gravity to save energy.

“The Strider is covered with a flexible, elastic skin made of Spidex supplied by the Fabric Works. It’s tough and lightweight. It’s reinforced so even a rifle bullet won’t penetrate it. Access to the inside is through the cab doors and two side hatches. The body and hatches are watertight to allow it to ford rivers.”

I was amazed that so much Spidex was used in the construction of the Strider. Spidex was made of spider silk protein extracted from the milk of transgenic goats. This was another technology that came with the Nubeecee migration. But this synthetic was still costly. Obviously, the builders had spared no expense in building this machine.

Rollie stopped and pointed at the section behind the front cab. “The source of the power lays here—two large Stirling hot air engines. They’re energy efficient and durable. We have been building them at Transportation Works for generations. This is the latest design. They’re fueled by anything that will burn but are presently set up to burn energy-rich vegetable oil and alcohol slurry. The fuel is held in fuel resistant rubber and spider silk composite bags to reduce weight. The bags are placed on the outside of the body and will automatically eject if they leak or catch fire.”

Leon seemed impressed but had a question about the logistics of refueling. “What is its fuel range?” he asked.

“The prototypes that were built with four wheels and legs had a limited range. We were told to build this one for long-range operation. So we put in an additional section and added an extra set of wheels and legs to carry more fuel and supplies. The total capacity of the fuel bags is 6000 liters, enough fuel to go 16,000 kilometers in wheel mode on flat ground.”

“Auxiliary power is provided by two solar concentrators that are stored near one of the hatches. Parabolic mirrors made of a shiny reflecting fabric are taken out of the hatch doors with the crane mounted on the backbone, laid on the ground, and unfurled. They assume the proper shape to concentrate sunlight when their support system is inflated and the frame of the parabolic reflector is energized. Solar energy drives a small Stirling engine on each mirror. The generators attached to the Stirling engines charge the lithium-sulfur batteries and banks of nano-capacitors. The batteries and the nano-capacitors were constructed by the Electric Works, and were copied from the transporters that brought the conscious AI machine here. Between them they store enough energy for 150 kilometers in wheel mode and 30 km in walking mode. We achieve over 36 per cent conversion of sunlight to battery power and a single day of solar collection will allow 25 kilometers travel in wheel mode and 5 kilometers in walking mode. The disadvantage of the system is that the machine must remain stationary during solar collection. This means collecting in the daytime and running at night if you’re to use auxiliary solar power. This routine is just fine for desert travel because you can avoid traveling in the heat of the day.

“Finally, in an emergency the Strider carries machinery to grind up and palletize organic matter, such as wood or even grass. The main engines will operate just fine on any pellets that will burn. Energy is also conserved on braking or going downhill by reversing the wheel motors to generate electricity that is stored in the nano-capacitors and fed back to the wheels on demand. Computers control the direction of energy flow.”

Rollie paused, then added, “You notice there is at least two of everything. If mechanical failure occurs, there is backup. The Strider can operate on one engine in an emergency, and its engines can power the wheel motors directly in case of battery failure. Now let’s go for a ride and I’ll show you the other features.”

Rollie led Leon up the ladder to the front seats of the driver’s cab. Dugger and I followed and got into the rear seats behind Rollie and Leon, while one of the workers took a position in the rear cab. I was not impressed with the living space within the machine; it seemed very cramped to me.

When we were seated, Rollie put the in key in and the burners cut in. When the observer in the back cab gave the all clear signal over the intercom, Rollie moved the stick shift into drive, stepped on the accelerator, and the Strider moved out of the shed.

“She’s moving under battery power right now. As soon as the burners heat up, the engines will power up,” Rollie said. Soon the chuff-chuff of the hot air engines could be heard. “I’ll roll her a little further out before I’ll make her stand. But first, I have to put on the gloves to control the leg motions.” He slid his arms into two gloves that lay on the dashboard. “These gloves sense movements in your fingers and hands to send overall commands to the legs. Computers control the legs as to the train of repetitive motions, depending on the style of motion called for—standing, walking or running—but directional control and rhythm of motion lies in the fingers. Sensors and actuators automatically adjust for ground level, limb position, and backbone movement to keep everything on an even keel. It even does this while crawling up steep inclines.”

The Strider came to a halt in the center of the test yard. When Rollie moved the shift stick to walk, the legs unclipped from the wheels and unfolded to support the Strider. When the legs were on the ground, the wheels lifted into the body, the legs further extended, and the body of the vehicle rose to its full height. The engines chuffed loudly as the transporter rose on its legs.

“Compressed air is used to drive pistons that unfold and extend the legs and their articulations, but electro-active nano-carbon strands supply the muscle power as it were. The pistons are like bones but are extensible, allowing the legs to occupy less room when they’re not in use. The slight hissing sound is due to the air bleeding from the pistons. Air is circulated through the walls of pistons to cool the electro-active strands when they’re in operation,” Rollie said.

“The electro-active strands are built of networks of small three-dimensional sheets of a special nano-carbon molecule that contract when current is applied. These strands are formed in different lengths and shapes and like muscles produce movement of the legs. They’re connected directly to the pistons or indirectly through cables,” Rollie said. The principles of movement weren’t new to me because my artificial limb worked in the same way.

“For walking and running the legs are held in five articulations: the toe, ankle, shinbone, thigh, and hip, much like a human’s leg. For crawling electro-active strands flex to give a sixth articulation at the top of the leg. This allows sidewise motion of the thigh and shin in a bent position. The six legs make the Strider very stable and capable of carrying heavy loads. They all connect to and support the backbone. The backbone is built of modules of electro-active strands and computers control their flexion too. A series of cables running through the back enables the backbone to become rigid when the Strider is in wheel mode.

“The design and development was done in cooperation with the Mile 1019 Electric Works who supplied the expertise on control systems for robotic walking.” Rollie paused, and then added, “I almost forgot—the front and back cabs can be raised above the body and rotated.”

Rollie put the Strider through its paces, walking, running, and crawling. The crawl looked like it was copied from an ant, but it was easy to see the advantage this stance would have in climbing steep uneven surfaces.

“Its walking and running motion appears to be more like that of an elephant because it doesn’t so much run as walk fast—at least four of the six feet was always in contact with the ground. Can it continue this motion over long distances?” Leon asked. I didn’t know what he was talking about, for I’d never seen an elephant much less watch it move.

Rollie answered Leon’s question, “If it’s properly serviced, it won’t breakdown and will take you anywhere you want to go. Your two crewmembers will be trained in its maintenance and operation. They will be well supplied with tools and a stock of replacement parts.”

Leon had another question. “What about crossing rivers that are too deep to walk across?”

“There are pontoons that are attached to the rib cage and are inflated to provide flotation. A hydro-jet on the rear provides propulsion in water.”

“You seem to have thought of everything,” Leon responded.

“We have tried. The training of your crew will be completed near the Electric Works. It seems we have some people in our midst who are very interested in our machines. The machine will be spirited away to this more isolated place while their attention is diverted,” Rollie carried on. “The vehicle is made for speed and stealth. Special equipment will be added to the Strider at the Electric Works that will help you evade detection. You will learn the art of camouflage from specialists at the Fabric Works.”

His demonstration complete, Rollie walked the Strider back to the shed and parked it. Then we went to look at the three donkey transporters that had been restored and put into operation. Their construction was similar to the Strider. Stirling hot air engines also powered them through a set of batteries. Rollie started them up and lead them about on a rope. I was surprised to see how closely the pace and gait resembled real donkeys. But Leon wasn’t impressed. He pointed out many differences between the movement of the robots and live animals and said that during the chaotic time when Charles fled from the Confederacy, no one probably noticed the robots among the stream of refugees.

After viewing the robot donkeys, I left the Transportation Works and returned to Mile 1019, Dugger remained at the Transport Works to go over maintenance and repair of the Strider, and Leon returned to Whitehorse to meet with Chief Stewart the following day.

Five

“How did the meeting with Celebric 67 go?” Chief Stewart asked Leon when he settled into the chair in front of her desk.

“It was an impressive show. Any doubts I had about the authenticity of the AI machine quickly disappeared. I don’t know how the AI machine did it, but I was looking into the face of my grandfather—the exact image. I reckon the purpose was to impress me, but I don’t know where the machine got it. Few pictures of my grandfather exist and they are all in the possession of the family. The image seemed to be reproduced from my mind. It was then I realized that we’re dealing with a very powerful technology—intelligent, self-activated, and highly motivated with capabilities beyond our own—truly awe-inspiring. We’re fortunate to have it in our possession, if that’s even possible. If all that this AI machine told me about the memory component is true, the two AI machines together would be yet more powerful in combination. It is frightening to think what might happen if they were to fall into the hands of the Confederacy or Suncorans.”

“I’m glad you understand the implications,” Chief Stewart said.

“But what evidence is there of the memory component’s existence? We just have the word of a machine,” Leon worried.

“Our scientists have seen the transmissions between the two AI machines and they seem genuine. And it has repeatedly warned us of the Suncoran danger and was right about the spy,” she tapped the file folder that lay closed on her desk. “He’s been caught and was one of our own people, on the Suncoran payroll. But we haven’t been able to fully determine the extent of their network. Further bad news—our scouts have discovered road building and airstrip construction in the south. We don’t know if the Confederacy is directly involved, but they’re supplying the Suncorans with arms and aircraft. There’s something they want very badly. The Council of War has called up the militia. The technology already provided by the AI machine will be critical to our defense plans. More legged transporters are being constructed to haul artillery and munitions through the mountains. The information on ground-to-air rockets will be essential to our defense, if they can be built in time. We may be able to fend the Suncorans off this time, but their power will only continue to grow, especially if they’re allied with the Confederacy. This is going to be a dangerous mission, but the recovery of the memory unit could be crucial to our survival.”

Leon sighed, got up, and looked out the window. “That’s what Sarah told me, but I feel that I’m too old for such a task. And I thought I was finished with travel. What’s more I have to travel with a machine with which I have had no experience and must depend on two young novices, who have never been outside of the Valley before, to run it. I fear our chances of success are low.”

“You look very energetic to me, and I’m sure you’ll soon have your crew performing up to snuff. You’ve a good reputation for handling men, have made long journeys before and always returned,” she said.

“I’ll do my duty to the council and Valley people but it’s not going to be easy. I have already started planning the journey. I picked Dugger McPhee as my heavy-duty mechanic. He has worked on engines similar to those of the Strider and seems to know his stuff. But I worry about Capability Ironshank. I know he is competent in robotics and the like, but he has a disability—he’s missing part of his leg.”

“Yes, he lost his leg in an accident as a child. But he is eager, has kept himself fit, and has taken special martial arts and medical training to prepare him for this mission. I remind you that he is the one Celebric entrusted with the operation of the robots that carry the location of the missing memory unit. I don’t know if you realize it, but Capability discovered Celebric. I hope you don’t have any misgivings because he a Nubeecee?”

“Ugh, I’d rather not have a Nubeecee on my crew.^[9] They’re too bound up in intellectual and religious endeavors. Besides, this one is one-legged and a strict pacifist. And I don’t like vegetarian cooking—beans, nuts and oatmeal are pretty boring after a while. I hope he is physically up to the challenge. I’ll see how he does during the training exercise that I intend to carry out as soon as the Strider is transferred to the Electric Works and refitted with all its equipment.”

^[9] [Tension existed between the Nubeecees and aboriginal groups. Soon after their arrival, the Nubeecees quickly settled in and adapted to Tutshone society. In fact, to the chagrin of the Tutshone, the Nubeecees became so enamored with aboriginal spirituality and traditions that that they began to adopt them as their own. This generated tension between the two groups for there were issues of the proper interpretation of ritual and its practice. They also took up the practice of nonviolence and became vegetarians. In the potentially violent world in which they lived, the Tutshone and other aboriginal groups felt that the Nubeecees were getting a free ride and came to regard them as inferior and of a lower status. Outright hostility was suppressed by the mutual advantage of their commercial interaction. The newcomers became in effect a new tribal group but of lower rank than the original inhabitants. A.Z.]

“He’s the Council’s choice. There is no alternative.”

Leon sighed and sat down again, “So be it. I have chosen early May, just before the dry season, to begin our travels. The desert storms will be weak but strong enough to cover our tracks. The desert will be relatively cool and the sun high enough that the solar panels can be used. I want to carry as much fuel as possible in case the use of the solar panels is limited by bad weather. I’m not going to take the robotic carriers—too heavy and too conspicuous. I’ll buy the real thing if I need pack animals. And I’m also going to install a heavy-duty machine gun and armor in the aft cab.”

“Those decisions are between you and the Council. They will provide gold and gemstones in case you need supplies or need to buy your way out of a difficult situation,” Chief Stewart said. “And a fuel dump to extend your fuel range will be made as far as we can safely take camel trains.

“I want cover for our mission. I need the gold and gemstones in the form of jewelry and old coins to avoid attracting attention. And I want to take some furs, wool rugs, and blankets. All traders going to the Southeast carry them. If I’m to masquerade as a trader, I need trade goods, but not from this region—better that they come from the Northeast.”

She leaned back in her chair. “I’ll see what can be done. Thank you for accepting the mission, Leon. The Council didn’t know whom to turn to if you wouldn’t. Would you like some tea and biscuits?”

“Thank you, but not today. I must run—I have to catch the three-twenty train back to Mile 1019. I’m to join my crew and Rollie Roadbender there.” Soon Leon left the office for the train station.

Six

We left in the Strider from the Mile 1019 Electrical Works near midnight, wheeling southeast down the gravel road toward Whitehorse with only dimmed front lights. Dugger drove. A plume of dust billowed out behind us in the moonlit landscape. To the casual observer the approaching Strider would have appeared to be one of the trucks that frequently plied the road transporting livestock and grain to town. They wouldn’t have been surprised except for the speed and silence.

Leon sat in the back and I sat alongside Dugger in the front watching the screens and looking out over the fields, houses, and barns that were illuminated in the moonlight. Spring plowing and seeding were underway. The moon glistened in each irrigation ditch as we passed. Alfalfa and clover fields lay plowed awaiting the potatoes, spring wheat, barley, and canola seed that would soon be planted. Draft horses and oxen stood or lay in small pastures near the outbuildings of the farms where they rested for the next workday. In some of the fields, power lines could be seen. These provided power to electrical tractors through trolleys, but they were uncommon. Near the farmhouses, the outline of fruit orchards and gardens were visible. But no light shone from the windows of the homes, for the owners were frugal with their electricity and sleep was a necessity to endure the daily toil.

The Strider sped on, for Leon had told us that his objective was to reach Teslin before dawn. On the electrified track adjacent to the road, we passed a short train that was loaded with seed and compost for seeding operations the following day. After several hours, we entered Whitehorse. Dugger slowed and turned off the lights to avoid awakening anyone and to escape the notice of anyone who was still awake. He took the upper road that bypassed the center of the town.

But we had not gone far when something appeared on my monitor. Some kind of vehicle had turned onto the main road from the last side road we passed. It too traveled without lights and maintained a constant distance from us.

“Someone’s following us,” I reported to Leon over the intercom.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s a small vehicle of some kind. Do you want to listen to the engine noise on the Ear?” I called back.

“Yes, turn it up so Dugger can hear it.”

I turned up the volume on the Ear.

“It’s a two-cycle internal combustion engine—probably a motorcycle. I haven’t heard one of those since I was in mechanic’s school,” Dugger said.

“Speed up and keep watch,” Leon ordered.

Dugger sped up but the motorcycle kept pace with the Strider. I looked at it with the Eye but couldn’t make out who rode it. On the nearby track at Johnson’s Crossing, we passed another train on its way to Whitehorse loaded with potatoes. We turned at Johnson’s Crossing and followed the shoreline of Teslin Lake southeast to Teslin. When we arrived at Teslin, Dugger turned into the lane that led to the Transport Works.

Rollie Roadbender was on hand with a crew of workers to open the gates and welcome us. “How’s the Strider working?” he called up to Dugger in the front cab after the Strider came to a stop.

“Like clockwork,” Dugger shouted down.

“So far, so good,” Leon said when he arrived from the back.

I continued to monitor the progress of the vehicle that followed us. It soon passed the Transport Works and continued along the road to the east—a lone rider on a backcountry trail bike.

“We’ll not stop long. Give the Strider a quick once over and top up the tanks and batteries,” Leon ordered as he climbed down from the cockpit of the cab. “You’re positive that fuel dump been set up?”

Rollie seemed surprised. “Why of course. It’s all set up about two days drive down the old road. That will be your last re-fueling before the desert.”

“Is it guarded?”

“A detachment of soldiers will remain in place until you arrive.”

“Could I talk to their commander?”

“You will have to contact Military Headquarters. There’s a phone in my office.”

Leon left and soon returned. “They report the fuel dump is safe and in good hands. Their patrols report no abnormal activity, and we have been given the all clear to proceed. Rollie, to be safe, I want extra canisters of fuel loaded on the Strider, wherever they will fit. We’ll leave as soon as they’re stowed. Can you get us something to eat?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll wake the cook. The Strider will be loaded with the fuel canisters by the time you return,” Rollie said and then after speaking to the crew boss, left in the direction of the cook shack.

Dugger and I were surprised and chagrined to learn that we would not be stopping that night, but we looked forward to a good meal.

As soon as we had eaten, Leon called out, “Let’s go. Dugger, you rest in the back until we pass the last checkpoint. Then you can take over driving and let Capability sleep. The track gets rougher, but drive as fast as the road conditions permit.”

We walked out to the Strider, climbed up into it, and took our respective places, Leon and I in the front and Dugger in the back. Dawn was just breaking as we bade Rollie and his crew farewell. Rollie opened the gates and I drove the Strider up the lane, turned east, drove over the Nisutlin Bridge, and up the road.

After several hours, Leon indicated that we were nearing a checkpoint located at the top of a pass. The hot air motors chuffed quietly as we ascended the winding road. By late-morning, we reached the checkpoint. An armed border guard stepped out from a sandbagged position on the side of the road and signaled us to stop. We halted and Leon climbed down from the cab. Several guards inspected the vehicle more out of curiosity than security concerns. Other guards watched from sandbagged positions.

“What is it?” the guard, who stopped us, asked.

“It’s a spud truck,” Leon replied.

At that moment the commanding officer stepped forward. “We got a message from headquarters. You were expected, but not so soon,” he said. Turning to the guard, he added, “I told you not to ask questions.”

“Did a trail bike come through here recently?” Leon asked.

“Nothing has been through here since yesterday,” the officer replied.

“It must have turned off before the checkpoint. Can we keep in radio contact with you in case we need help?”

“Transmitters are set up through the mountains all the way to the fuel dump. After that, you’re on your own—we can’t be sure of transmission.”

After a few perfunctory remarks with the officer, Leon climbed back into the Strider, Dugger and I changed positions, and Dugger started up the Strider and drove down the road. It quickly degenerated into a rough trail mostly used by pack trains, but maintained wide enough for mechanized military transport. As we descended from the top of the pass, we came to a point in the trail where a view of the valley lay before us. Leon ordered Dugger to halt.

After we stopped, Leon took out his telescope and retrieved a large case that he had stashed behind the front seat. He descended from the cab holding the telescope and case. When he reached the ground, he put the case down, lifted the telescope to his eye, and surveyed the landscape. Then he opened the case, took out a map, and spread it out on a rock. “These are the most valuable possessions of a trader,” he called to us. “Come look.” When Dugger and I joined him, Leon pointed to an area on the map and said, “These maps are copies of ones made centuries ago but they’re still accurate. They were good mapmakers then. It’s said that they could locate any position on earth from space. It was the golden era of mapmaking. See, we’re here and the fuel dump should be about there. The road follows the river to the dump.”

When we were finished looking at the maps, Leon said to me, “I want you to conduct surveillance using all our instruments before we leave. Fly the Vulture to have a look down the valley from the air. If you don’t see anything, we’ll proceed to another viewpoint.”

I studied the landscape with the Eye and the Vulture, but nothing stood out that indicated anything out of the ordinary. After my observations were completed, I brought the Vulture down, and we proceeded down the road to the valley floor.

In the valley the road wound along a creek. Sagebrush, rabbit bush, and greasewood grew in abundance beyond the river edge. Blackened tree stumps of lodge pole pine and spruce that once dominated the valley stood in place as reminder of a cooler and wetter time. Trees now only grew at the river’s edge and these were deciduous forms, such as popular, willow, elderberry, maple, willow, and Russian olive. In a few places in the surrounding hills clumps of ponderosa pine and Douglas fir were seen, but the lodge pole pine and spruce hadn’t recovered from the wildfires that spread through the area with the onset of the Warming.^[10]

^[10] [Atmospheric gases, carbon dioxide, methane and nitrogen dioxide that built up as a result of industrial activity during the Golden Age caused the climate to become warmer. These gases transmit sunlight but not infrared radiation. Often called the greenhouse effect, heat is trapped and the temperature of the atmosphere increases. The concentration of carbon dioxide, the main greenhouse gas, grew from 280 ppm (parts per million) at the beginning of the Golden Age, to 620 ppm at oil depletion at the end of this age, and then to 880 ppm at the depletion of all readily accessible fossil fuel at the end of the Time of Troubles. Average temperature of the earth increased seven degrees Celsius. The increased formation of low clouds that reflect sunlight did not offset the effects of greenhouse gases. A.Z.]

When we reached the valley floor, Leon asked Dugger to slow down so that he could watch the road more carefully. “I’m looking for our friend. If you see anything that resembles a tire track, let me know.”

We hadn’t driven but two kilometers when Leon called out, “Whoa, what’s that?” He pointed to a track entering the main trail from a side valley. “Let’s have a look.”

Dugger and Leon got out and looked at the track. “Definitely a trail bike,” said Dugger. “Look, here’s where it stopped before going onto the main trail. There’s exhaust smudge on the bushes.” Dugger touched the oily stain with his finger and sniffed it. “Mineral oil,” he announced.

“Suncorans,” murmured Leon, “They seem to be very interested in this machine.”

Dugger and I looked at each other uneasily. We had expected danger but not so early in our journey.

“The rider could be a spy, but he probably doesn’t know we’ve detected him. He may be watching for us further down the road to relay news of our arrival to a party of raiders. If they were planning to intercept us, it would be far enough away from the checkpoint that we can’t call for help from the militia. That would be at least an eight-hour drive. Or, they may overwhelm the guards at the fuel dump and ambush us there. We’ll have to maintain surveillance as we advance. I suspect he’ll be on a high point of land ahead of the ambush site. Watch for a track leading off the road.”

We returned to the Strider and continued down the road. Several heights of land offered a good view of the road but we couldn’t see any sign of the spy. It was late in the day before we came to a large outcrop not far from the road. Leon called out, “There’s a track but don’t stop. Keep going. He’s probably on that rock up there. I’ll tell you when to stop.”

We proceeded several kilometers down the road, far enough from the rock outcrop that we could just see the top. “Pull in here and park just over that low ridge,” Leon directed. After we had come to a stop on the side of the ridge, Leon said, “Now use the Loris to look at the top of the rock from higher up the valley wall. Have the Loris exit from the side of the Strider so that it can’t be seen from the rock.”

I took out the Loris and did as Leon directed. After the Loris climbed through the brush up the valley wall and turned its eyes toward the rock, we gathered around the visual screen. We looked at the rock in the infrared wavelength and there below the outcropping was the trail bike still faintly glowing with heat. “He’s up there. Don’t make any movements that might indicate we see him. See if we can find our man on the rock.”

I scanned the top of the rock with the Loris in the visible range and then used the afterglow sensor.^[11] Eventually I picked out the man watching us from near the top of the outcrop and pointed him out to Leon and Dugger. “Set up the Ear to warn us of any traffic on the road in case his buddies make a sudden visit. The main force can’t be too far away and may be lying in wait. Dugger, sit behind the machine gun to indicate to our friend that we are on watch. Capability, help me set up some camouflage netting to cover the Strider. After that, we will have a meal, rest, and make it look like we’re going to stop here for the night. This evening we’re going to arrange a surprise for him and his associates,” Leon said.

^[11] [Objects can be seen in dim light by looking at scattered light. The shadows are enhanced which gives a better definition of the object than with infrared light. A.Z.]

We camouflaged the Strider, supporting the cloth with poles that we cut from a clump of aspens. Dugger left the gun just sticking through the camouflage and got down from his position. After our meal, Leon went to the bed in the back of the cab. “Wake me when it gets dark. It’s been a long day for our man on the mountain, and if he thinks we are going to overnight here, he’ll want to catch up on his sleep. Watch him and when he beds down, let me know,” Leon said.

I watched the spy with the Loris. He remained in his position at the top of the rock. As it got dark, he gave up looking through his binoculars and sat down to have something to eat. I could still see the man on the rock when darkness fell. He had reclined to rest. When the spy seemed to be sleeping, I woke Leon and had him look through the Loris.

“Good, we’re going to lift the side of our tent and roll out. When we’re back on the road watch for any oncoming vehicles or riders. We don’t want to run into any Suncorans that may be on the way to intercept us,” Leon said.

Dugger, who had been watching the road at the other end of the Strider, came to the front and helped Leon lift a side of the camouflage cloth. After I brought the Loris down from its viewing point, I moved the Strider out. The poles holding the cloth were put back in place and rearranged to give the appearance that the tent still covered the Strider. The edges of the tent were weighted with stones to prevent the wind from lifting them. Even a pole was placed to simulate the protruding gun. I put the Strider in crawling mode and slowly walked alongside of the ridge and onto the road all on battery power. When we had moved far enough from the spy’s vantage point, I put the Strider in wheel mode and drove along the road using the Eye to guide us in the darkness. Eventually I started the hot air engines and brought the machine up to full speed.

We traveled steadily for about an hour, while Leon perused his maps and watched the distance on the odometer. Finally, he said, “We will turn off to the north into a side valley just down the road. I know a detour, but the road we will take hasn’t been traveled on for some time. We have to forgo topping up our fuel supply at the fuel dump, but the fuel canisters we loaded up in Teslin will compensate for some of the loss. It may be overgrown and washed out in places, but the Suncorans seem to want this machine very badly and we may not be able to depend on our militia for protection. Radio the position of the spy to our militia. I already warned them of a possible Suncoran attack last night. We will leave them to confront the Suncorans,” Leon said.

“It’s a good thing we’re leaving the road because I see reflections of lights on the clouds in front of us that could only come from headlights on motor vehicles,” I said.

“Yes, it’s time we took a detour.” Leon directed me to leave the main trail and take the Strider up a valley. “This is going to be a test of the machine, but we might as well find out now whether it will do all it’s supposed to. If it breaks down, it’s a long walk back, but at least it’s possible to turn back,” he said.

I put the Strider into walking mode and stepped off the road on a hard, dry piece of ground making as few tracks as possible. After walking the Strider off the road, I stopped and Leon and Dugger went back and removed as much the evidence of our change in direction as they could. After they had finished, they came back and climbed back in the Strider. I walked it into the side valley. As we gained elevation, I clearly saw the headlights of a column of vehicles on the road that we had left. We stopped to watch them pass. With aid of the Eye, I made out three trucks with mounted machine guns, a tractor pulling a long trailer, and two trucks full of armed men. “They were waiting for us,” Leon muttered, “The spy ring is still operating.”

After they passed, we resumed travel and soon came to an embankment. “This is an old road that leads to an abandoned mining town called Tungsten,” Leon said. “When we reach the mine site we’ll turn east, follow the Flat River to where it joins the South Nahanni, and then travel on the South Nahanni to the Liard River. It’s a circuitous route, but with all this fuel on board we can’t afford a shootout with the Suncorans and I won’t surrender the Strider to them.”

The road hadn’t been used for centuries and was overgrown with grass, greasewood shrubs, and, in places, ponderosa pine and Douglas fir. Despite its age, the rock cuts and most of the grade remained intact. I drove the Strider in wheel mode, rolling over shrubs and brushing aside the small trees that grew on the road, but I had to put it in crawling mode to bypass the larger trees, washouts, and rockslides. In a couple of places I had to bulldoze trees to allow the Strider passage.

It was noon of the following day when we reached a height of land and descended to the valley below. The road ended at a small river where we could see the ruins of an abandoned settlement. At one time there had even been a landing strip for aircraft. We had a meal and laid down to rest, but Leon soon roused us. “We must push on, but first we must rig the Strider for running the river. This is the Flat River that flows into the South Nahanni,” he said.

Dugger looked at him with consternation. “But that will take time. We have to install the floats and set up the hydro-jet system. Can’t we just wade the Strider? It’s a small stream.”

“I know, but my charts say that the river eventually becomes a large river with rapids and whirlpools. Hopefully, we will not have to portage but we will have to use flotation in places. We have our work cut out for us to obtain passage down river.”

We unpacked the gear for water crossing. The installation took time as the floats had to be lifted and bolted securely in place and the hydro-jets set up in the back section of the Strider with the electric motors that powered them. We completed these changes late in the afternoon. The floats were left flapping against the Strider. When needed, they would be inflated with the air compressors that were used to assist leg extension.

We set out again. Leon captained the Strider and watched the radar in the front cab, while I maneuvered the Strider in walking mode. In the back, Dugger manned the hydro-jet system.

“The Suncorans must have figured our ruse out by now,” said Leon. “If I see anything on the radar, we will have to stop and hide the Strider.”

But we traveled the remainder of the day without anything showing on the radar screen.

Maneuvering the Strider down the riverbed was slow going. Most of the time we walked. The Strider waded through riles and shallow rapids. When the water got too deep, we inflated the floats, and powered up the hydro-jets. Then I stretched the front legs out to feel the depth of the river, leaving the other legs raised. When the river became shallow, Leon called out for Dugger to reverse the hydro-jets and back the Strider up. This allowed time for the legs to be stretched out to lift the body out of the water. When this operation didn’t go quite as planned, Leon had us repeat the procedure. He said that this practice was necessary if we were going to navigate the river when the current became stronger.

When darkness set in, Leon had us stop because he feared that it would be too dangerous to navigate at night even with the lights on. We found a gravel beach, pulled in, and camouflaged the Strider. After a meal, I helped Dugger check the Strider for leaks and conduct regular maintenance. Dugger and I went to bed when we were finished, leaving Leon in the front cab studying his maps.

We were up and on the river by daybreak. The river became deeper and broader as it filled with side streams. Raising and lowering the legs became more difficult in the stronger current.

Late that afternoon, Leon spotted an airplane on the radar flying along the valley from the west. We quickly moved the Strider to shore, sat it down under some trees, and the camouflaged it. A spotter plane flew along the one side of the valley and out of sight. We waited and it returned on the other side. Then it flew close to the river along the valley bottom. When it passed, Dugger swore he could see the pilot. But the pilot did not appear to see the Strider, and the airplane flew to the east again and disappeared. When it did not return, we continued downstream. At dusk we left the river again and parked the Strider under some trees. The next morning the sun shone and Leon said that it was a good day to get some well-earned rest and recharge the batteries with the solar panels.

The following day we resumed our voyage. The journey down the river was similar to the previous day, but now we spent more time floating and, at times, using the hydro-jet to speed up our progress. In the late afternoon, we reached the confluence of the Flat and the Cariboo Rivers. Leon had us pull out of the river and pitch camp. He said that the navigation of the next stretch of river would be demanding and we would tackle it in the morning when we were fresh.

When I listened to the Ear, I picked up the roar of rushing water. I turned up the volume and had Leon listen. “We’re getting close to the South Nahanni,” Leon informed us. “What you hear is the Trudeau Falls. The falls are upstream on the South Nahanni from where the rivers meet. We won’t pass them, thank goodness. I have been told these falls are spectacular but difficult to portage. In ancient times people flew in by airplane from all over the world to see the falls and canoe the river. But there are some canyons coming up that we must detour through.”

“Really, people flew in airplanes just to sightsee?” Dugger asked in astonishment.

“Yes. I have been told that during the Golden Age petroleum was so cheap that the common people could fly wherever they wanted. When the petroleum was used up, such travel stopped. Petroleum could not be replaced with any form of energy that was as inexpensive. It was long ago and times were better,” Leon said.

Rested and refreshed, we started out at sunrise. The river was now wider and a strong current swept the Strider along. The hydro-jets were continuously used to negotiate the river channel and to avoid grounding and hitting rocks.

We soon came to the confluence of the Flat and the South Nahanni. Just beyond this point the river entered a canyon with towering walls. I estimated that the sheer rock walls were over one hundred meters high. As we entered the canyon, the river narrowed and became glassy clear. “We’re approaching the Gate where the river takes a left turn. Dugger, steer to the left so we’re not carried into the rocks on the south side,” Leon directed. Once we passed through the Gate, Dugger had to use full power to counter the current that drew us toward a striking, high-pointed rock. “The map says that was Pulpit Rock,” Leon said after we had passed by it.

After that the river broadened out. We had to put Strider back in walking mode to wade through the shallows. As we passed through the shallows, we came to the outflow of a creek where a large animal stood in the water grazing. “Moose. Not common in this region these days, although I have seen them in the far North,” Leon said. Neither Dugger nor I had ever seen this animal before. It was a strange looking animal with a large nose, long legs and a large set of antlers.

After the shallow stretch of water, we entered another canyon with even higher walls than those of the first. The sheer walls were over three hundred meters high. The river dropped precipitously, creating rapids that were greater than anything we had yet encountered. My hair stood on end as we raced into a cleft in the mountains. My fear wasn’t assuaged by the gloom of the canyon, for sunlight penetrated to its base only in a few places. As the current carried us along, we passed standing waves two meters high. Leon and Dugger called back and forth over the roar of the water to maneuver the Strider into the deepest channel and carry us through. I was relieved when we came out into the sun on the other side.

But our ordeal wasn’t over. We soon entered another canyon with similar rapids. More than once the sharp cusp of a rock rubbed the bottom of the Strider but the fabric did not tear. Finally, the river entered an open area and slowed. Although at times I had been fearful that the current would carry us onto a rock and cause us to capsize, once we had gained passage down river, I had to admit that trip through the canyons had been an exhilarating adrenalin rush. We had traveled almost 70 kilometers from where we camped on the Flat River the night before. It was late in the afternoon when Leon signaled Dugger to make for the north shore. As we approached the shore, we were met by a sulfurous odor like rotten eggs. “A hot spring. We’ll have us a bath tonight,” Leon said. Dugger took the Strider ashore and we set up camp. That night we indulged ourselves in the luxury of bathing in a hot water pool.

Seven

The next morning was sunny and a stiff breeze blew out of the canyon behind us. I flew Vulture and scanned the landscape before us. The South Nahanni joined the larger Liard River, near the horizon. There the river valley broadened and the river became braided, shallow, and sluggish. This provided an excellent habitat for wildlife. Through the robot’s eyes I observed: elephants, antelope of various kinds, ostriches, and wild pigs among the trees near the river and herds of wild horses, bison, zebra, and wild asses grazing on the riverbanks and nearby hills.

“I thought I heard lions last night. In the days when the country of Canada existed, this land was a park. Few of these animals we now see were here then. ^[12] In the early stages of the Great Decline they migrated here from the south,” Leon said, adding, “The most important thing though is that there are no signs of Suncorans.”

^[12] [Leon seems to imply that these animals were always present in North America. Some of the animals, such as horses, camels, mammoth elephants and lions, populated this continent before the last ice age, but they became extinct at the end of this period. The animals that the travelers saw originated as escapees from farms, ranches, game farms and zoos that were prevalent in North America during the Golden Age. Others were escapees from a project sponsored by a well-meaning research group to reconstruct the pre-ice age fauna. The elephants were hybrids and backcrosses of an Asian elephant and a mammoth elephant that had been reconstructed from DNA extracted from a mammoth carcass found in Siberian permafrost in the late Golden Age. Populations of these hybrids were extremely variable exhibiting a wide range in body size, hairiness, and tusk length and shape. They are still found in North America at the present time. They did migrate from the south though. A.Z.]

After I landed Vulture, we resumed our journey. That day we were able to reach the Liard River, put the floats and hydro-jets on and cross over to the other side, and stop for the night. The following morning we removed the floats and hydro-jets and climbed up through the aspen trees to the top of the riverbank. From there we could see vast, arid grassland that extended to the east over low rolling hills.^[13] Many of the animals that we saw at the confluence of the South Nahanni and Liard rivers were observed on the hillsides.

^[13] [Before the Warming, the Boreal Forest covered this region. White and black spruce, fir, lodge pole and jack pine, and tamarack were the predominant species. It had been replaced by grasslands and in places fens by the time of the James Expedition. A.Z.]

“We should come to a road that follows the Liard River to the northeast and then turns directly east,” Leon said. “Tonight we will go back to night travel. We’ve used more fuel than I expected during the detour, so we’ll soak up some energy during the day and travel at night. The radar should allow us to detect any airplane in time to disguise the Strider before it passes.”

The road was not far from the river. It had been constructed long ago, and although the grade remained, the culverts and bridges had been taken out or washed away. It was necessary in these places to put the Strider into walking mode.

The temperature was noticeably warmer on the plains than it had been in the mountains. “I’d hate to be here in July and August when it really becomes hot,” Dugger called out from the back at one point.

We traveled on this road for one night passing the junctions with two other ancient roads, one from the south and one from the north. During the day, I spotted the banks of a large river to the north with the Vulture. Leon said, “It’s the Mackenzie River, the largest river in the north—the Liard drains into it. I have traded with farming settlements along this river and used it to access the shores of the Arctic Ocean by boat.”

We waded through several rivers that were mere trickles. On the second night we came to a junction in the road where it met another that followed the Hay River southwest. Dugger, who had been watching screens and the road, called out, “Something has come down the road from the east and turned onto the southwest road.”

Leon, who was sleeping behind the front seat, woke with a start, looked at the screen, and called out, “Stop. Let’s have a look.” When the Strider rolled to a stop, Leon got out of the cab to inspect the tracks. “Anybody around now?” he called up to me.

“No one in sight.”

Leon took out a flashlight and looked at the tracks. “Camels and machines, six, seven days ago. A slow brigade—maybe Suncoran traders. Can’t make out what they’re up to, but I don’t think they’re looking for us.”

He got back in the cab. “We turn here, too. Be alert for whoever we’re following.”

Further along this second road, we came upon an abandoned campsite. Leon and Dugger got down from the cab of the Strider and inspected the ground. “Seventy, eighty people—numerous camels, some horses, and four or five motorized vehicles. An airplane too,” Leon said.

“Mineral oil spills,” Dugger called out.

“Definitely Suncorans,” Leon said.

He and Dugger got back in the Strider, and I turned the Strider south. We passed some old abandoned townsites but avoided entering them, because they were often occupied by groups of sheepherders and hunters. Occasionally, we came across signs of the Suncorans, who preceded us. We waded the Hay River and followed the road until it turned east and ended in open grasslands. At dawn we reached the Peace River and stopped.

“Another river to cross,” said Leon. “It may be low enough to cross by walking the Strider, but I’m not taking any chances. We’ll rig it for water travel after we rest. As soon as the floats are on, we’ll start up. After we cross the river, we’ll take the floats off and wait on the other side until nightfall.”

Late that day we crossed the Peace River at a point where the current was sluggish. After removing the floats, we traveled all night to the southeast. At dawn we entered some low hills just as the sun had begun to peek over the horizon. As the sun rose, a slight trace of smoke caught in sunlight could be seen drifting to the northwest. Leon had me stop and fly the Vulture.

“What is it?” he asked, when the Vulture reached a sufficient height to view the landscape in front of us.

“I can’t tell for sure. The smoke seems to be coming from a camp or settlement. There are hot spots indicating fires, but they look like they’re almost out. There are groups of people and animals moving south beyond the camp.”

Leon had me take the Strider to the top of a hill near the source of the smoke where he took out his telescope and viewed the scene. “A shepherd camp,” he said. “They appear to have been hit by a raiding party, probably the same Suncoran group that we were following. Now the Suncorans are moving the captives and livestock south. The airplane has left. The camp seems to be empty.”

“Shouldn’t we go down to the camp and see if anyone there needs help?” I asked.

I expected Leon to say, “We have to remember our mission and not jeopardize it.” But he didn’t. He was silent for a moment, and then said, “Fly the Vulture to give us a closer look.”

I flew the Vulture over the camp close to ground. The embers of the stockade timbers still glowed red-hot. Some of the shepherd’s yurts that had been set on fire still lay smoldering. Several bodies were strewn about. Two dead horses lay outside the stockade. Other than the gathering ravens and magpies, there wasn’t a sign of life.

After I returned the Vulture to its perch in the Strider, Leon signaled me to proceed to the deserted camp. I was relieved that we would be stopping to check for survivors, but to this day I still wonder why he didn’t bypass the camp. Perhaps, it was to challenge my Nubeecee convictions. Whatever the reason, it was another seemingly inconsequential decision that was to profoundly affect my life and the expedition.

When we arrived at the shepherd camp, we found a sizable compound that must have held over a hundred people. I stopped the Strider in the center of the camp where the bodies lay. Leon took out an AK-47^[14] from the back of the cab. As we opened the cab door, the unpleasant, pungent smell of burning felt from the smoldering yurts filled our nostrils. Then Leon and I got down from the Strider while Dugger manned the machine gun.

“A Mormon shepherd camp. They were overwhelmed in a surprise attack. Some didn’t give up easily,” Leon informed me as we inspected the bodies. This was the first time I had seen someone killed by gunfire. I went over to inspect one of the bodies and was shocked to see that it was a young man no older than me. His eyes stared at the sky and his open mouth was covered with dried frothy blood. He had been shot in the back.

^[14] [The Kalashnikov automatic rifle, model 47, invented by Alexander Kalashnikov in 1947 was the most widely produced automatic rifle of all time. It was still being produced at the time of the James Expedition because of its effectiveness and simplicity of manufacture. No other make of automatic rifle that any skilled gunsmith could manufacture had a greater rate of fire. Toward the end of his life Kalashnikov said he wished he had invented a lawnmower instead. A.Z.]

The encampment contained two permanent buildings. Leon called out, “We are friendly. If anyone is hiding, it is safe to come out or to shout out if you need help.” His call was met with silence. Leon and I went towards one of the low buildings that appeared to be a church or temple. As we approached the building, I encountered another strange odor. Leon smelled it too, “I wouldn’t go in there if I were you,” he warned.

Despite the warning, I moved toward the door. “But if someone is in there, they may need help.” I said and cautiously looked in. I recoiled in horror at what I saw, “They are all dead. Their throats have been cut.” I turned from the door with a sickening feeling and retched. The sight of the bodies lying in a row with their throats slashed still haunts me to this day. At that moment I became fully aware that this was more than just an adventure. Our very lives were at stake and the forces we were confronting were powerful, cruel, and merciless.

Leon went into the building to check for survivors. He came back visibly shaken. “All the old people. No one’s alive,” he said. He checked the other building; it was empty. Then he went over to the well and looked into it and said. “Some were dumped in here too.” Dugger didn’t leave his position or indicate he wanted to witness the atrocity.

At that moment, a camel with two riders came over the hill toward the camp. One of the riders controlled the bridle and whipped the camel on at a full gallop. Dugger, who was focused on our actions, hadn’t noticed the approaching riders until they were close to the stockade. When he did, he swung the machine gun around towards them. As the camel came closer, we saw that the riders were women. The smaller of the two held the reins and a stick. The larger woman rode behind holding onto the smaller one.

Leon raised his hand signaling Dugger to refrain from firing the machine gun. The camel galloped through the gate and stopped in front of the Strider. The women wore black boots, and their long grey dresses were hitched up to their broad belts to allow them to ride astride the camel. Each wore a colorful cotton bonnet.

The driver had the camel drop to its knees and both women rolled off. “You’re not Suncoran. What are you doing here?” the camel driver demanded, but she did not wait for an answer.

“Sister, here hold the camel,” she commanded. While the taller woman held the camel, the shorter one ran into one of the yurts that remained standing. She soon came back. Moving so that Leon was between her and machine gun she demanded, “Are you the boss?” When he replied in the affirmative, she pulled a revolver from her dress. “Here, sister, don’t let them make a move ’til I get back. Shoot the boss if they try to get away or if that guy fires at me,” she said pointing at Dugger.

She then returned to the yurt and emerged with a cut down version of an AK-47. Remounting the camel she called out, “I’ll be back. Don’t do anything until then.”

We watched the rider and camel disappear back over the hill. Meanwhile the other woman kept the pistol trained on Leon. After a moment she said, “She’ll be back. Don’t move. I know how to use this thing.” The tenor of her voice betrayed her agitation and anxiety.

Several minutes went by while we waited for the rider to return. Dugger remained in the cab, and I stood nervously by as the woman held Leon at gunpoint. Leon did not move but calmly began to question her. “What is your name?” he asked.

“Martha Brown.”

“Who’s the other woman?”

“She’s my sister, Amy. She’ll be back.”

“What happened here?”

“We’re Mormons and this is one of our camps. Amy and I haven’t lived here long. We just arrived from another colony to the north and were married to the headman. The colony was just getting ready for the lambing season when the Suncorans attacked. They killed our best fighters and the rest of us surrendered. We were separated from the men and marched away—to slave camps, some said. I didn’t see any of the old people—they might have been killed. Amy and I escaped by pulling a guard off his camel and riding it away.”

Several bursts of gunfire were heard in the distance. “She went back to shoot them,” she said, glancing back at the hill from whence they came.

After a brief silence, Amy came back over the hill on the cantering camel. Eventually two other camels trotted over the hill following her, their saddles empty. She entered the compound and pulled up in front of the Strider. “There, two less of those Suncoran bastards. Boss, can you use that thing to rescue our people?”

“No,” Leon said, “This machine is full of highly inflammable fuel and has no armor. An attack would be suicide. We can only run away.”

Amy took the gun from Martha. “Then sister, let these people be and get your things. We’re going with them. I’ll wait ’til you come back. But hurry, more of the sons-of-bitches will be coming to find their missing buddies.”

Martha hurried to the tent and re-emerged with a bundle. Then Amy handed her the gun and got her belongings. Leon seemed dismayed with the prospects of two extra passengers but he didn’t offer any opposition.

“We don’t have much choice. The Suncorans may come with motor vehicles and we can’t outrun them on the camel. If you leave without us, I blast your tires and fuel tanks with my rifle. If it’s supplies you need, then I know where there’s plenty. But hurry—we may not have much time,” Amy said, tossing her bundle up to Dugger. “I haven’t had time to introduce ourselves, but this is Martha Brown and I’m her sister, Amy.”

“Your sister introduced herself and told us your name. I’m Leon James. This is Capability Ironshank and that’s Dugger McPhee”

Amy pointed to a place on the open ground behind the second building. “The supplies are over there in the communal stash. They didn’t find them.” She led them to the spot she had pointed at, knelt and brushed away the earth to reveal a latch of a trap door. It was the entrance to a storage pit. She brushed away more earth, pulled on the latch and raised the door. Below the trap door were steps that lead to the interior in which food and essential equipment and weapons were concealed. “Load up what you need. I don’t think the owners are going to miss them,” she said.

Leon looked over the stores. There was food, mostly dried meat, probably mutton, made in a pemmican style. It would be nourishing if unappetizing. The dry hard cheese, corn meal, flour, honey, and dried berries looked more appealing. Several large canisters contained kerosene that could be used to fuel the Strider. There also was butter fat in large crocks.

“Dugger and Capability, load those canisters of kerosene onto the Strider. I think under the circumstances we can break the taboo on using mineral fuel. The butter fat will burn too,” Leon said.

We began loading fuel and food onto the Strider. As we began our task, Amy went to a box at the back of the pit. She opened the box and took out a long barreled rifle with a telescope, a grenade launcher, grenades, and boxes of ammunition. These she brought to the Strider and threw up to me. “You may not have any of this stuff, and we may need it if the Suncorans return,” she said.

“Made in Whitehorse. Sales of grenade launchers are prohibited. Where did you get these things? ” Leon asked.

“Certain traders sell them.”

“Not this one.”

Dugger, who had remained in the back cab, called out, “The Ear is picking up sounds of motors in the south.”

“Leave the rest. We have to move,” Leon said.

Everyone dropped what he or she were doing and scrambled to get in the Strider. Before she got in, Martha turned toward the center of the compound and stood staring.

“Martha, come—we must go. We’ll pray for them when we’re away from here,” Amy said. Then she took Martha by the hand and pulled her into the Strider.

Martha wept. “We can’t even bury them,” she whispered.

“No, we must save ourselves.”

Amy and Martha went to the back cab with Dugger, while Leon and I rode in the front. I started up the Strider, drove out the gate and headed northeast across the prairie. Behind us a cloud of dust rose in the distance.

“Suncoran motor vehicles. They carry machine guns and grenade launchers,” Amy informed Leon and me through the speaker.

“Amy, how far are we from the river?” Leon asked.

“Not far.”

“Where do you ford your sheep?”

“To the east.”

“Capability, swing in that direction and speed up.”

I drove full out slowing down only for the small rills and dry creek beds. The Strider bounced over the prairie. “Three vehicles. They’re gaining on us,” I informed the others after glancing at the screen.

The chase continued for half an hour,and the gap between the Strider and our pursuers was closing. We could now make out the vehicles. One was a light truck mounted with a heavy machine gun and the others were trail bikes, one with a sidecar.

Leon had Dugger man the machine gun while he got out more automatic rifles and ammunition from the storage locker. Amy watched the vehicles through the telescope on her rifle. “The lone man on the trail bike is the leader,” she said.

“Can’t you push this thing harder? We’ve got to get to the river and cross before they catch up to us,” Leon yelled at me as the Strider bounced over the rough ground.

“I’m going full out, but we’ve reached the sheep trail,” I replied.

“Follow it to the river.”

The vehicles behind slowly gained on the Strider, now coming into full view over a kilometer away. I was relieved to see the tree line of the river ahead, but it was still several kilometers away. Amy opened the window of the cab and began firing her rifle. “I could hit them if we weren’t bouncing around,” she said.

We were now in range of their machine gun, but they seemed to be waiting until they got closer before firing. “Stop firing that rifle,” Leon yelled at Amy over the intercom. “And Dugger, hold your fire until the people in the truck fire first. It looks like they want to get a better look at the Strider.”

I followed the narrow winding trail to the river, brushing down small trees in the chase. The pursuers spread out as they closed in. The trail bikes slowed as they weaved through the trees. The lone rider now began to hang back from the chase, but the truck crashed on through.

The pursuers began to fire as the Strider descended the riverbank. Bullets from the truck’s machine gun hit two of the fuel bags, which burst into flames and ejected behind us. When the fuel bags hit the ground they exploded in a ball of fire and smoke, momentarily blocking the pursuers’ view of the Strider.

After the fuel bags ejected, I could see the river. The water level was low but I was dismayed to see that I would have to put the Strider in walking mode to cross.

“You won’t get across. You’ll be stuck in the mud. Take it below the bank. We’ll fight it out there,” Amy yelled to us on the intercom.

Leon yelled back, “We can get across but it will take too long to put it in leg mode. They’ll be on us before we get the legs up. You’re right about the riverbank. We’ll stop and fight it out at the drop-off. The bank will give us some protection. Capability, stop just below the bank. Dugger get your gun ready. Everyone get ready to brake.”

As the Strider went over the bank, I extended the front and side legs, braked, spread the legs out, and slid to a stop. Without a word, Amy swung down from the back cab with the grenade launcher in her hand and the rifle on her back and climbed to the edge of the bank.

The armored truck had slowed, as the driver seemed to be confused by the burning fuel bags, but it continued to approach the bank. When Amy reached the top of the bank, she aimed the grenade launcher at the armored truck and fired. The truck exploded, strewing burning wreckage down the bank. The Suncoran in the sidecar began firing in the direction from where the rocket had been launched, but Amy had dropped below the bank and moved to another position.

The Strider now looked like a giant scorpion with legs spread toward the river. The gun in the back cab was its venomous tail. Dugger swung the cab up to bank level and fired at the trail bike. When the bullets hit the trail bike, it rolled over and slid down the slope and over the bank where it tumbled over and over until it came to a halt near the water. The occupants were scattered along its path like rag dolls. They didn’t move.

The lone rider turned tail and sped up the hill. Amy took the rifle from her back steadied it on a rock and fired at the retreating trail bike. It rolled over, spilling its rider who then pulled himself behind a large rock. Amy continued to shoot at the trail bike, firing enough rounds to ensure that it was thoroughly decommissioned. She then returned to the Strider and climbed back in. The battle was over.

We welcomed Amy, hugging her in relief. She seemed surprised and somewhat embarrassed. “What’s that for?” she asked.

I put the Strider in walking mode, waded it across the river, and drove it in wheel mode up the riverbank. Leon directed me to go over the hill because he didn’t want the man behind the rock to have a good look at it. After I parked the Strider, Leon sent Dugger back to view the battlefield. Dugger reported that the armored truck and fuel bags were still burning and spewing black smoke. The two trail bike riders had not moved and the lone survivor behind the rock was still looking across the river through a pair of binoculars.

Soon a small airplane flew over and circled the Strider, but Dugger only had to aim the machine gun at it and fire a few rounds to keep it from coming too close. The battle had ended near noon, but the airplane circled all afternoon. We watched the horizon with the telescope and Eye and listened for motor vehicles on the Ear, but the Suncorans did not resume the chase that day. Leon wouldn’t let us move the Strider until the airplane left because he didn’t want to let the Suncorans know what direction we were headed. He told us to get some rest. At dusk the airplane flew south.

Leon said that we had just crossed the Athabasca River. The river passed through extensive tar sands mines to the south that had been dug just at the end of the Golden Era. The once pristine river carried so much waste from the bitumen mining that it was polluted and toxic to wildlife. The shepherds didn’t use the water or let their animals drink it, but they did move their flocks across the river.

While we waited for the airplane to fly off, Leon recognized that our guests had probably not eaten since the day before and were hungry. He had Dugger prepare a meal for all of us. Dugger was a good cook and soon put together a meal that included some of the hard cheese from the pit on crackers, steamed smoked fish, a sauce of dried apricots, mushrooms, and fried potatoes with onions. To top it off, he stewed a pot of dried apples for dessert. The women especially enjoyed the fried potatoes and onions with ketchup, which they tasted for the first time. Amy said, “I am amazed that a man can cook so well.”

Martha winced at the remark. “Amy, can’t you be a little more polite,” she said, “Dugger cooked a nice meal.”

“But the truth is, I’ve never tasted food cooked by a man before—in fact I never knew a man who could cook. But I liked the sauces and would like to know how Dugger made them,” Amy replied. Leon laughed because he knew a little about life in Mormon shepherd colonies. Dugger and I were at a loss to know what he found so amusing.

When tea was served Leon brought out a bottle of vodka and added it to Dugger’s cup and his, but not to mine, because he knew I didn’t drink. The women refused both tea and the alcohol, for their religion forbade their use. We toasted our escape and Amy’s bravery; I toasted with tea and honey and the women with water.

Eight

“The Suncorans may try to locate us from the air or follow our tracks. There is little cover in this region, and it will be easy to spot us. I’m going to move the Strider to the sand dunes south of Lake Athabasca and lay low for a time until we see what they’re going to do. The drifting sand will hide our tracks and we can more easily disguise the Strider among the dunes,” Leon said, when we left that night.

Dugger drove, but I could not sleep because of all that I had witnessed during the day. Therefore, I volunteered to watch the screens. Leon put the passengers in the back cab and directed Dugger to travel northwest, and wake him when he reached the sand dunes. Then he lay down behind the back seat to catch some sleep. I had left the intercom on, and we could hear Martha weeping and Amy trying to console her. I went to turn it off, but Leon motioned to me to leave it on.

“Amy, they’re gone, all of them,” Martha said, “We don’t know what is going to happen to them. I already miss them. How could God let this happen? We’re good Mormons. We harmed no one.”

“It’s not for us to say. No matter how well we live our lives, there are others who are greedy and violent and have no qualms about spoiling other people’s lives. Bad things can’t always be prevented from happening even to the good.”

“We don’t know where we’re going. None of these men will say. What is going to become of us?”

“Do not worry Martha, we still have our lives and these seem to be good men. I’ll take it up with Leon.”

Leon signaled me to turn off the intercom.

Leon sighed, “What to do with these women? They belong to a sect of the Mormon Church that believes in communal living and polygamy. Ideally we should return them to their colony of origin but this can’t be done—there is the mission to consider and we’re on the run.”

“Can’t we find a settlement on the way where they can stay?” Dugger asked.

“I can’t think of a place where we can safely discharge them. There are small encampments of shepherds and cattle herders to the east where we are going, but they’re monogamist. If they find out the women are Mormons, they probably wouldn’t be welcome and might be abused if we left them there. There are the hunters, but I am not going to leave them at a hunters’ camp. We’ll have to wait for the right opportunity to deliver them to safety. For now they will have to stay.”

Leon seemed to ponder this issue for a long while, but eventually curled up in the back seat and went to sleep. It was late that night when I saw undulating topography before us on the screen that I hadn’t seen before. I woke Leon. “There’s something ahead I want you to see,” I said.

After looking at the screen, Leon said, “Ah, sand dunes, the Lake Athabasca Sand Dunes. They’ve always been here but have expanded considerably since the lake level dropped. We will hide out in them. If the Suncorans come snooping around, and they probably will, the drifting sand will cover our tracks.”

We followed the edge of the dune field to the east. Finally, Leon ordered a halt and inspected the dunes on the screen. He picked one of the smaller dunes that was actively drifting, and had Dugger walk the Strider over to its leeward side. Dugger raised the cab and used the blade on the front of the Strider to cut a trench in the sand in wheel mode. After he finished the trench, he backed the Strider into the depression. Then we put up poles, stretched camouflage cloth over them and anchored the edges of the cloth into the sand with wooden pegs. The sand soon began to drift over the cloth. “We’ll have to watch the drifting sand. A little will hide us but if it begins to drift too much we’ll have to move the Strider. We don’t want to become stuck in the sand,” Leon said.

Not long after dawn, I observed the spotter airplane on the radar. It circled around trying to find signs of the escapees. We didn’t fly the Vulture to determine if the Suncorans had sent out a ground party, but we suspected that one was out there somewhere.

Near noon I picked up a large airplane accompanied by three smaller ones on the radar. I informed Leon of the approaching aircraft. Leon ordered Dugger and the women to remain in the Strider. Leon crouched at the edge of the trench looking through his telescope, while I anxiously watched the sky with the radar and Eye. The large airplane began to search in a proscribed pattern, flying low while the three smaller ones circled overhead. The big plane appeared to be conducting a careful search close to the ground. It first flew along the river to the south, and we caught glimpses of it climbing and banking. It worked its way back and forth progressing slowly east and finally turned northeast in our direction.

“Probably Confederate planes. The Suncorans don’t possess this type of aircraft. They are coming this way. Maybe the ground party has found our tracks,” Leon said as we watched the planes.

We watched the search planes start to search closer to the sand dunes. As they started their search pattern, I saw something in the sky to the west with the Eye and called to Leon, “What are those streaks above the horizon?”

Leon looked at them through his telescope for a minute. “They’re airplane contrails,” he finally said.

“What are airplane contrails?” I asked.

“Vapor trails produced by high speed aircraft. I have seen them only twice before.”

The pilots of the other aircraft also saw them, for the large search plane turned to the east as the spotter plane headed south, while the three smaller planes that had circled above the large one wheeled to meet the oncoming aircraft. Within minutes the aircraft from the west reached the search craft and its escorts. As they closed in, one of the oncoming airplanes launched a rocket, and the large search plane exploded in smoke and flames and plunged to the ground. The escorts tried to gain altitude to turn on their attackers, but one by one they met the same fate as the large search plane.

“Come and see this. You won’t believe it,” I called out to the others in the Strider. By the time they emerged, all that was left of the search plane and it escorts was drifting smoke and falling debris. The attackers had already moved off, some returned to the west, and some to the south following the aircraft that had escaped.

“Cascadian warplanes. They’re faster than those of the Confederacy. The Confederate planes must have come too close to Cascadian territory,” Leon said.

“I listened on the Ear and there seemed to be a difference in the sound of the Cascadian planes. They don’t seem to be driven by internal combustion engines,” Dugger said.

“The Cascadians have always been more advanced in flight than the Confederacy—they use another source of power. I’m sorry but I don’t know what it is,” Leon said.^[15]

^15] [The Cascadian planes were propelled by jet engines. The Confederates had lost the methodology for forming jet engine compressor blades and the heat resistant alloys to make them. The Cascadian had also developed an energy-dense bio-fuel from sugar. A.Z.]

“Probably some kind of turbine. The engine action was smooth—I couldn’t hear any drone that would come from a piston engine.” Dugger replied.

That afternoon we flew the Vulture and were relieved to find that the Suncoran raiding party had resumed its trek south. The radar revealed the sky was clear of aircraft. Everyone got ready for nighttime travel.

That night we pulled out of the dune and turned south, traveling with our lights off. Soon we left the sand dunes. The landscape was rock with numerous worn down outcrops with rills that contained peat bog or fens filled with grass or bushes and scrubby trees. The peat had drifted out of the dryer of the rills leaving empty pockets and holes. In a few rills, naturally occurring peat fires generated trails of light, wispy smoke.^[16] Passage through the rock and rill fields was slow and took three days but we were able to increase our speed when we found an old road leading south.

“According to the map, this is the Semchuk Trail,” Leon said. We followed the road, and after a day’s travel, reached a region that was covered with black, drifting sand devoid of vegetation. Leon called it the Tarpond Desert^[17] and told us not to stop until we reached the other side.

^[16] [With the decline in the use of fossil fuels, greenhouse gases did not immediately decrease because the warmer temperatures sped up processes that release carbon dioxide and methane from forests, soils and peat bogs. As the oceans became warmer, they too released methane held under pressure as clathrates. An especially large burst of methane coincided with the end of the Golden Age as the permafrost began to melt and the peat gave up methane and carbon dioxide. A.Z.]

^[17] [Tarpond Desert that was created by the drying of the great waste pits left after oil extraction from the Athabasca Tar Sands. The toxic clay and bitumen-covered sand that blew out of these waste pits in the direction of the prevailing winds covered a vast area to the northeast of the mines. Little grew in this strange desert. A.Z]

The next morning I flew the Vulture east to study the topography. It was the similar to that, which we had encountered when we first left the Athabasca Sand Dunes. Leon had us turn east and follow a route picked by him that allowed us to avoid old lake bottoms, rock outcrops, and deep river channels. The few channels that contained water were easily bypassed or crossed. Old stumps and rotting logs indicated that the land was once forested, but now only copses of small trees and bushes grew in the low areas or on the northern slopes of the hills. This landscape was vast and stretched endlessly to the east. Progress was slow because we often had to put the Strider in walking mode.

Occasionally, we passed dune fields and grasslands. We saw the same types of wild animals that we had first observed near the Liard River. We continued our night travel to the east, stopping in the day. The travel soon became routine and the scenery monotonous.

Inhabitants of this region were few as the soils were thin and sparse and couldn’t sustain agriculture. From the Vulture I saw only small encampments of sheep- and goat herders and hunters. We carefully avoided these camps in case they observed our passing.

The women soon adjusted to travel, for their life on the Strider was not far removed from that in the shepherd camps. Often Amy used her rifle to supplement our food rations. During the day she hunted and brought antelope, rabbits, and ground squirrels to the Strider that she and Martha prepared for the evening meal. They preferred to cook outside over an open fire, but they took advantage of the refrigerator for food storage and used hot water from the Strider for washing up. I often opened the refrigerator to find it full of freshly skinned and drawn carcasses that Amy had stored there.

At one evening meal Amy reported, “Today I saw something I never saw before—a beautiful spotted cat that could run like the wind chasing an antelope.”

Leon commented, “I traded for skins of these cats; they’re called cheetahs. I’ve never seen one alive though.”

“I thought it too beautiful to shoot,” Amy said.

Another night while we ate, Amy noticed that I was not eating the rabbit stew that she and Martha had made. “You’re the only one that doesn’t eat the meat I bring in. Don’t you like wild meat or is it the way we cook it?” she asked.

“It’s not that. I don’t eat meat because I’m a vegetarian.”

“And why is that?”

“Because of Nubeecee religious beliefs that all life is sacred and shouldn’t be killed.”

Amy and Martha both looked at me, perplexed. “Really, don’t you get tired of porridge, beans, and nuts?” Amy asked. Leon and Dugger laughed. Amy took this as a sign that she had said something wrong. “I hope I haven’t embarrassed you, but I have never met anyone who didn’t eat meat. People are more different than I thought.”

“That’s alright. If I lived off the land as you have, I probably would eat meat too.” That was the end of the discussion, but Leon and Dugger remained amused.

The one amenity to which they quickly adapted was the shower. They often spent long periods luxuriating in the hot water, and afterwards, great amounts of time combing out their hair. This ritual required frequent stops to take on water. More than once Leon had to admonish them to keep the showers short because of the limited water supply.

It seemed like they were more at ease with us than we were with them. I especially found the presence of the women distracting. I was unaccustomed to living in close quarters with women, for I had been an only child and had no sisters. The confined space of the Strider made modesty difficult. The requirements of bathing and dressing produced many embarrassing moments, at least for me. The women sloughed off such incidents, laughing at my embarrassment. Leon and Dugger were more phlegmatic and more at ease with our passengers. It took a long time for me to become comfortable in their presence, even though I found the experience instructive.

What made me especially uncomfortable was a task Leon assigned me. He told me to determine the health of our passengers and make sure they were not carrying any disease or pests that might become a problem aboard the Strider. He also wanted to make certain they were vaccinated to avoid any sickness they might pick up on our travels or give to us. Leon delegated this task to me because I had some medical training and some experience with the pharmaceuticals and medical supplies. I dreaded this assignment, but one afternoon I went to the back cab that the women had taken over as their residence. I knocked at the entrance, “Is it all right if I come in and talk with you both?”

Amy pulled back the privacy blanket that covered the door. “Sure, come in. What is it you want to talk about?” she asked.

“As medical expert on the expedition, Leon asked me to inquire about your health,” I replied, not knowing quite how to introduce the subject.

“Well, tell him we both feel great,” she said.

“That’s not quite what he meant. He wants to know whether you have been vaccinated. If you haven’t, we have vaccines and I have been told to vaccinate you. He has asked me to give you some pills for intestinal parasites too.”

“The medicine woman vaccinated all the children in our colony. You must know—the vaccines came from the Pharmacy Works at Mile 1019, and at an outrageous price I might add. Do you know how many fleeces of Merino wool it takes for one bottle of vaccine? As for the pills, I don’t think they are necessary, but we will take them.”

“I didn’t know you were vaccinated and I didn’t know the vaccines were costly. I also have to ask if you or your sister have any health problems or were exposed to any communicable disease.”

“You mean something you might catch from us?”

“Uh—yes, something that might be a problem for you or us. In particular have either of you ever had typhoid fever or tuberculosis? You know what these diseases are don’t you?”

“Yes, we may not be able to read but we are not stupid. Martha had malaria once but the medicine woman gave her something to get over it and it hasn’t come back.”

“Have you ever been exposed to bedbugs?”

“No, what do you take us for—dirty, unclean savages!”

I felt the ground sinking beneath my feet. I continued, hoping to get this interview over with as soon as possible, and broached a subject that I found most uncomfortable. “Have you ever had any diseases spread by intimate contact?”

“Like what?” Amy asked.

“Scabies, head lice, body lice or fleas, or other things” I mumbled.

“Well, Mr. Medicine Man, no, we haven’t had any of these, but do you want look?” And she began to undo her dress. Martha put hand over her mouth and began to laugh.

My face went beet red. “That won’t be necessary,” I said as I turned and beat a hasty retreat to the front cab. I could still hear them laughing as I made my way there. I reported what happened to Leon, but he had little sympathy with my embarrassment and just chuckled. I was left feeling humiliated and resolved to not get involved in such an inquiry again.

After my humiliation at the hands of the two women, I took care not to disclose my disability to them because I didn’t want to fall lower in their esteem, but they never guessed I was one-legged. My prosthesis was so good that my gait seemed normal. However, I usually took it off each night to charge the batteries it contained. In fact, I had two such legs that I interchanged daily. While they were being charged, I kept them out of sight under my bed.

One night Amy emerged from behind the curtains at the back cab just as I returned from the toilet hopping on one leg. “Why are you hopping like that?” she asked.

“I stubbed my toe,” I lied as I quickly dived into the covers of my bed.

“You better take care of it, Mr. Medicine man. You don’t want an infection do you? Want me to look at it?”

“No, please don’t. It’s just bruised and will get better.” I replied. After that, I was extra careful not to reveal my secret.

Dugger and I drove the Strider at night and slept during the day. In the afternoon after we awoke and had lunch, we spent much of the time servicing and maintaining the Strider. One day Amy came over to where I was working on some electrical connections on one of the legs. She stood watching me for a while, and when she caught my eye, she spoke. “I want to apologize. I’m sorry I embarrassed you the other day. You were just doing what Leon asked you to do. But I found these questions demeaning. Although we have a different culture than you, we are not completely ignorant. If we have a health problem, we will ask for help. I would have been equally angry if Leon had come to question us himself.”

“Your apology is accepted.”

“You’re a shy guy and a little too sensitive.”

“I am sure in time I will develop a thicker skin in your presence.”

She continued to watch me. “What are you doing? May I help?”

“I am repairing the leg muscles, so to speak, of the Strider. They’ve been bruised and it’s beginning to limp.”

I had her set about removing the sharp sand particles that had become impressed into the electro-active strands of one of the Strider’s ankles. After that, Amy came regularly to help either Dugger or I, and it wasn’t long before she began to ask questions about the operations and design of the Strider. I did my best to answer her, but the questioning soon became endless. But when she went to help Dugger, he showed little patience with her questions and only answered with brief replies or grunts. As a result, Amy began to dog me because I was more patient and forthcoming. Martha was more reserved and was content to help with domestic chores. But after she finished these, she would shyly ask either of us if there were anything that she could do. As Amy often occupied my attention, Martha often sought out Dugger, who would find her a task but with the understanding that she wouldn’t interrupt his work.

The questioning was not all one sided for I was curious about Amy’s past life and how she and Martha escaped from the Suncorans. One day while she helped me with maintenance work I questioned her. “Where did Martha and you grow up?” I asked.

Amy replied, “Near the mountains west of the Mackenzie River. We moved around a lot. Shepherds move with their flocks from one pasture to another, you know.”

“Did you like living in these camps?”

“Up to now I didn’t know anything different. Except for traveling traders, the only indication that there was something more beyond the colony was the visits to the open market on market day. This is the first time I have been away from colony life. But no, I wasn’t content. Unlike many of the women I knew, I’m not satisfied just cooking, maintaining a household, raising kids, and weaving and making rugs. To me it’s drudgery. I also don’t like the monotony of all of the singing, praying, and sermons. I like the company of the women, but the men are something else. You’re lucky if you find a good husband who loves and values you for yourself. Most have their eye on other women and will often marry just to make strategic alliances within the colony. At any time you can be traded off to another man for the same reason. There’s a better life, I am beginning to believe.”

“Where did you learn to ride camels and shoot so well?

“My father taught me to ride and shoot. His first wife, my mother, produced only two girls, Martha and me. He taught us these skills to help him with the flocks. But all members of the colony receive military training to protect the colony against marauders, such as the Suncoran slavers. I enjoyed my training sessions and learned how to handle a wide range of weapons. I also hunted to supplement our diet with wild meat. This gave me an excuse to ramble through the ravines and over the hills of the land where we grazed our flocks. Martha learned these skills too but doesn’t relish them as much as I do. Often Martha tagged along but she’s a little frightened by the wilderness and didn’t always enjoy these adventures. When we became teenagers, my father gave Martha and me full responsibility for herding the sheep. When other members of the colony expressed disapproval, our father countered that we could ride and shoot better than any of the boys and could take care of wolves, coyotes, lions, or as a matter of fact, any intruder that we might meet.”

“Wow, you must have some interesting experiences.”

“Well, I’ve shot plenty of coyotes, wolves, and one day, a lion.”

“How did you come to be at the Athabasca River?”

“My father took other wives and had children by them—boys who could take our place. When our mother died, the other wives began to complain that the household was full and pressured my father to send us away. One day, our father told us that the leader of our colony had made an agreement for us to marry the leader of a southern colony. Our leader was to be obeyed, and we were to leave for the colony on the Athabasca.”

“Your father would do that to you! It seems sad.”

“Much sadness exists in the colonies because of these things.”

“How long ago was your move?”

“Not long ago. We arrived for the wedding about two months ago. Our husband, Axel Peterson, was a big disappointment. He was old and wizened, smelt bad, and had many other wives. On our wedding night, I was so revolted by him that I took out my razor and told him that if he touched Martha or me, I would cut him up. And if he forced himself on us, I carried a pistol and would shoot him. He was flabbergasted. No woman had defied him in this away before, but he left us alone. The next morning he told us that he would pass our supervision on to one of his older wives until he decided what to do with us. We spent the next month or so working with this woman. She was an old scold, who reprimanded us at every turn and told us heaven’s door was surely closed to women as wicked as we were. But she was not too bright. The day the Suncorans arrived, she came and proudly announced to us that Axel was going to excommunicate us, and we would be shortly leaving the colony. From one of the colony women who sympathized with us, we had earlier learned that Axel often transferred young male contenders, the incorrigibles, as he called them, to other colonies, or in some cases if they knew more than they should, he had them spirited away and sold to Suncoran slavers. We put two and two together and concluded Axel was planning to sell us off. We made plans to leave early that night. I stole a rifle and ammunition and we packed our things, but before we could slip away the Suncorans attacked and we had to surrender.

“I blame Old Axel for the colony’s ruin. He ran the colony with an iron hand, punishing those that contested him and favoring those who supported him. As a result the leadership of the colony was totally under his control. The Mormon shepherds are usually wary of the Suncorans, but Old Axel had welcomed the small band when they showed up. All they wanted to do was trade he told the colony. This was true, but the trade that he had in mind was of a human kind. The Suncorans had bigger plans. Instead of two slaves, they were set to take the whole colony. The small group of Suncorans posing as traders was a deception. The main body of Suncorans remained hidden in the hills until dark. That night the Suncoran forerunners took out our sentinels, and the main body overran the camp. Many of our people surrendered in their beds.”

“How did you and Martha get away from the Suncorans?”

“The Suncorans rounded up their captives and separated them into two groups, the men in one, and the women and children in the other. The two groups were marched separately south at daybreak. Martha and I were the only ones lucky enough to escape. One of our guards underestimated us. When Martha dropped to the ground as if she had fainted, he rode over, yelling for Martha to get up and threatened to lash her with his whip. I was bent over her pretending to help. When Martha did not rise, the guard came closer to look. When he was close enough, I grasped the camel’s halter signaling it to drop to its knees. As the surprised guard dropped with the camel, Martha suddenly rose and grabbed the man by his coat, pulling him off the camel onto the ground. With Martha’s help, I soon had my razor on his throat. After we took care of the guard, we got on the camel and rode away. Now looking back, it seems a foolhardy move for the other guards soon saw our escape and took up pursuit. It was a stroke of luck to find the Strider and you at the camp. For although we could obtain arms there, it would at best have been a shootout.”

“What about Axel? Was he among the men that were marched away or was he among the people who we found murdered?”

“I don’t know what happened to him.”

I was amazed by Amy’s story and related it to Leon, who listened intently. “She’s a survivor. They’re both survivors. They could be useful to us,” he mused, pulling his beard.

After this, Leon had the women collect pieces of dry wood when it was available, cut it, and put it through the pelletizer. The wood pellets were then mixed with the kerosene that we had taken from the storage pit. Dugger changed one of the burners on the engines to burn this mixture. Although it left a light trail of blue smoke, it wasn’t noticeable at night and helped to replace the fuel we lost at the Athabasca River. The butterfat was also mixed with the pellets. When this mixture was burned, it left a delicious smell in the air like buttered popping corn.

As Leon worked with the women, he would talk to them, for he wanted to get to know them better. They too had their questions. They were curious about the destination and the purpose of the trip. At first Leon told them that we were going to the East on a trading trip but was vague on the details. But one day Amy pressed Leon for more information. “Exactly where is it you’re taking us? We would like to know,” she asked.

“We’re going to New Moosinee,” Leon finally replied.

“Where is that?” she asked.

“It’s still far to the east.”

“Why there?”

“It’s the end of a rail line and the main supply depot in the east for trade in the Northwest. I have traded out of there before. There is a man in New Moosinee I must talk to.”

“Are you taking Martha and me there?”

“I haven’t decided yet. If I could find some of your people, I’d leave you with them.”

“I’m not going back to them. I have had enough of being the fifteenth wife of an old man who treats you like a brood mare. I am willing to do anything else, but I’m not going back to be a shepherd’s wife. I know Martha misses her friends and life in the colony, but not me. Take me with you. I can shoot and I’ll work hard. I can help you, you will see,” she pleaded.

“I have no doubts of your abilities or ambition, but I can’t promise you anything, not now. Not until I have had a talk with the man in New Moosinee.”

Then Leon addressed Martha, who stood nearby but remained silent throughout the conversation, “What are your thoughts on where you want to go?”

She replied sadly, “I’ll stay with my sister.”

The next day Amy began a wardrobe change. She took her dresses and cut them into pantaloons that were held at the waist by her belt. To this she added a shirt, jacket, and vest. She restyled her bonnet into a bandana tied at the back. The transition took several days to complete, as everything had to be hand sewn.

“What do you think? I saw a picture in a book you have. Is it not stylish and at the same time practical?” she asked as she twirled around in front of us at one of our evening meals. The men all agreed and complimented her on the change. I don’t think that she was aware that it was out of a picture book on pirates, but none of us told her the truth. Martha was silent about Amy’s new wardrobe, but soon her attire changed too, although she seemed reluctant to give up her old style.

Amy changed her hairstyle too. Her hair had been combed to an upsweep from the front to the back held in place with pins and combs. This hairstyle was the same as Martha’s. Amy said it was the prescribed hairstyle of all the women in the colony from time immemorial, but it was about time she changed. First, she cut her hair and combed it back, and then tied it into a ponytail. She looked more boyish and, I thought, more attractive. Martha didn’t approve of Amy’s hairstyle and didn’t change.

Since leaving the Tarpond Desert, we had traveled south then southeast, reaching a river that seemed to be little more than a series of small lakes. It was named the Churchill River on the map. We easily crossed it at one of the narrows, drove south, and then turned east again. The daytime temperature became noticeably higher. To maintain the interior of the Strider at a comfortable temperature, Dugger took one of the spare hot air engines meant for the parabolic reflectors and reversed it to run off of the main engines and produce cold air that was piped into the cab.

The air also changed. Now it was often filled with fine dust that filtered into everything. The dust grew thicker when the wind blew from the southwest and increased in force. We were all awed by the brilliant crimson sunsets that began early in the evening and persisted even after the sun dipped below the horizon.

A week of travel brought us to the banks of another large river course, but it was only a trickle of water. Leon stood on the bank looking perplexed. “The Saskatchewan River is a wide river that starts in the mountains. Even at this time of year it should be full of water. I don’t understand why it’s so low,” he said.^[18]

^[18] [I am not certain either, but the expedition coincided with one of the many long droughts that naturally occur in this region and had become more intense and frequent with warmer temperatures. Also, the Suncorans filled their reservoirs upstream about this time. A.Z.]

We camped on the bank of the Saskatchewan River. The next day we descended into the river course, picked our way across the mud flats, through the sand and boulders, waded through the low water, and climbed up the other side. From there we entered a region of loess and sand dunes. Leon informed us that we were following a strip of land between two lakes, Lake Winnipegosis and Lake Winnipeg, and the soil and sand had blown off of the Winnipegosis lakebed that was to the west. We went back to nighttime travel for one night following the shoreline of the eastern lake, Lake Winnipeg. At sunrise, we stopped to view the lake, but it was so diminished from its ancient shoreline that we could not see not see any water. The former lakebed was now covered with grass, sedge, willow and other small shrubs as far as the eye could see.

That night we crossed the Dauphin River that drained Lake Manitoba, to the southwest, into Lake Winnipeg and Lake Winnipegosis. It was shallow enough for the Strider to wade but there were signs of periodic floods that must have occurred after heavy rains. By daybreak we had reached the lower part of Lake Winnipeg, where three islands almost touched both sides of the old shoreline. We drove on an ancient causeway that linked the first island to the mainland and parked for breakfast.

“We will cross to the next island and to the other shore during daylight, but first, Capability, take an aerial view of the crossing with the Vulture,” Leon said.

After I looked at the islands from the air, I concluded that if anyone had inhabited the islands in the past, they had abandoned them long ago.

The shoreline, too, indicated periodic high water but at this time the lake was in a dry phase. That morning we crossed a narrow channel between the first and second island that was almost dry except for a stream deep enough that it had to be waded with the legs fully extended. The channel between the next island and the mainland was rocky, but the water was shallow. The Strider had to be put in walking mode to cross this channel too.

When we reached the other shore, we stopped, and I took another aerial view of the terrain that lay ahead. The plant cover near the rocky areas consisted of sparse grass and small creeping plants. In many of the depressions, small trees and shrubs struggled to survive, but the growth of rushes and sedges near those that contained water was more luxuriant.

Among the rock outcrops and fens, I made out the berm of an old road running east, south, and then east again. We spent the remainder of the day traveling down this road to its end, where we parked for the night. Drifts of loess soil, which had recently blown in from the desert to the west, obscured parts of the road. Heavy rains cut runnels through the banks of loess washing it into low-lying areas.

The next morning an aerial view revealed a pack animal trail that meandered through the rock fields and ponds from the end of the road to another road to the south. “A few camel trains from the east use this route to the desert and northern regions. The road in the south is an old railway bed. The steel was removed centuries ago but many of the concrete and stone structures remain intact. We will follow the trail to the road, but will have a good look down the road before we proceed further,” Leon said after he looked at the screen.

As the Vulture circled to the southwest I noticed a flashing red light. “What’s that?” I asked Leon.

He squinted at the screen. “It must be the Dragon’s Bier.”

“The what?’

“The Dragon’s Bier. That’s what the traders call it. The superstitious avoid it. They say a dragon is buried there. It’s a truncated pyramid made from polished stone with a beacon light on it. A high wall of the same material bars entry. Words and pictographs on the wall warn of danger. The wall has no gates and emits an unbearable screech if you attempt to climb over it.”

“Out here where there is no one. Whatever for?”

“Many of the packers think it’s a place for devil worship, but I asked about it at the Whitehorse Philosopher’s Academy and was directed to a chemist at the Chemical Works who told me it was a toxic waste dump from the Golden Age. He said there is another larger one in the desert much further south. I’ve never met anyone who has seen the other one though.”^[19]

^[19] It was actually a waste dump created by the ancient Canada regime to store waste from decommissioned nuclear power plants. The facility was called the Whiteshell Nuclear Research Establishment. In the twenty-first century the production of nuclear power ended as the supply of uranium was depleted and the power plants became too expensive to operate. The waste dump is still there but the beacon has gone out. The other waste dump was Yucca Mountain located in the former state of Nevada, and was used to store nuclear waste from the old republic. A.Z.

“I have no doubts of your abilities or ambition, but I can’t promise you anything, not now. Not until I have had a talk with the man in New Moosinee.”

Then Leon addressed Martha, who stood nearby but remained silent throughout the conversation, “What are your thoughts on where you want to go?”

She replied sadly, “I’ll stay with my sister.”

The next day Amy began a wardrobe change. She took her dresses and cut them into pantaloons that were held at the waist by her belt. To this she added a shirt, jacket, and vest. She restyled her bonnet into a bandana tied at the back. The transition took several days to complete, as everything had to be hand sewn.

“What do you think? I saw a picture in a book you have. Is it not stylish and at the same time practical?” she asked as she twirled around in front of us at one of our evening meals. The men all agreed and complimented her on the change. I don’t think that she was aware that it was out of a picture book on pirates, but none of us told her the truth. Martha was silent about Amy’s new wardrobe, but soon her attire changed too, although she seemed reluctant to give up her old style.

Amy changed her hairstyle too. Her hair had been combed to an upsweep from the front to the back held in place with pins and combs. This hairstyle was the same as Martha’s. Amy said it was the prescribed hairstyle of all the women in the colony from time immemorial, but it was about time she changed. First, she cut her hair and combed it back, and then tied it into a ponytail. She looked more boyish and, I thought, more attractive. Martha didn’t approve of Amy’s hairstyle and didn’t change.

Since leaving the Tar Sand desert, we had traveled south then southeast, reaching a river that seemed to be little more than a series of small lakes. It was named the Churchill River on the map. We easily crossed it at one of the narrows, drove south, and then turned east again. The daytime temperature became noticeably higher. To maintain the interior of the Strider at a comfortable temperature, Dugger took one of the spare hot air engines meant for the parabolic reflectors and reversed it to run off of the main engines and produce cold air that was piped into the cab.

The air also changed. Now it was often filled with fine dust that filtered into everything. The dust grew thicker when the wind blew from the southwest and increased in force. We were all awed by the brilliant crimson sunsets that began early in the evening and persisted even after the sun dipped below the horizon.

A week of travel brought us to the banks of another large river course, but it was only a trickle of water. Leon stood on the bank looking perplexed. “The Saskatchewan River is a wide river that starts in the mountains. Even at this time of year it should be full of water. I don’t understand why it’s so low,” he said.^[20]

^[20] [The Clay Belt was a large basin of clay deposited during glacial times. Before the Warming it was not farmed because the growing season was too short and the soils too cold. It was one of few agriculture regions that benefited from a warmer climate. A.Z.]

We camped on the bank of the Saskatchewan River. The next day we descended into the river course, picked our way across the mud flats, through the sand and boulders, waded through the low water, and climbed up the other side. From there we entered a region of loess and sand dunes. Leon informed us that we were following a strip of land between two lakes, Lake Winnipegosis and Lake Winnipeg, and the soil and sand had blown off of the Winnipegosis lakebed that was to the west. We went back to nighttime travel for one night following the shoreline of the eastern lake, Lake Winnipeg. At sunrise, we stopped to view the lake, but it was so diminished from its ancient shoreline that we could not see not see any water. The former lakebed was now covered with grass, sedge, willow and other small shrubs as far as the eye could see.

That night we crossed the Dauphin River that drained Lake Manitoba, to the southwest, into Lake Winnipeg and Lake Winnipegosis. It was shallow enough for the Strider to wade but there were signs of periodic floods that must have occurred after heavy rains. By daybreak we had reached the lower part of Lake Winnipeg, where three islands almost touched both sides of the old shoreline. We drove on an ancient causeway that linked the first island to the mainland and parked for breakfast.

“We will cross to the next island and to the other shore during daylight, but first, Capability, take an aerial view of the crossing with the Vulture,” Leon said.

After I looked at the islands from the air, I concluded that if anyone had inhabited the islands in the past, they had abandoned them long ago.

The shoreline, too, indicated periodic high water but at this time the lake was in a dry phase. That morning we crossed a narrow channel between the first and second island that was almost dry except for a stream deep enough that it had to be waded with the legs fully extended. The channel between the next island and the mainland was rocky, but the water was shallow. The Strider had to be put in walking mode to cross this channel too.

When we reached the other shore, we stopped, and I took another aerial view of the terrain that lay ahead. The plant cover near the rocky areas consisted of sparse grass and small creeping plants. In many of the depressions, small trees and shrubs struggled to survive, but the growth of rushes and sedges near those that contained water was more luxuriant.

Among the rock outcrops and fens, I made out the berm of an old road running east, south, and then east again. We spent the remainder of the day traveling down this road to its end, where we parked for the night. Drifts of loess soil, which had recently blown in from the desert to the west, obscured parts of the road. Heavy rains cut runnels through the banks of loess washing it into low-lying areas.

The next morning an aerial view revealed a pack animal trail that meandered through the rock fields and ponds from the end of the road to another road to the south. “A few camel trains from the east use this route to the desert and northern regions. The road in the south is an old railway bed. The steel was removed centuries ago but many of the concrete and stone structures remain intact. We will follow the trail to the road, but will have a good look down the road before we proceed further,” Leon said after he looked at the screen.

As the Vulture circled to the southwest I noticed a flashing red light. “What’s that?” I asked Leon.

He squinted at the screen. “It must be the Dragon’s Bier.”

“The what?’

“The Dragon’s Bier. That’s what the traders call it. The superstitious avoid it. They say a dragon is buried there. It’s a truncated pyramid made from polished stone with a beacon light on it. A high wall of the same material bars entry. Words and pictographs on the wall warn of danger. The wall has no gates and emits an unbearable screech if you attempt to climb over it.”

“Out here where there is no one. Whatever for?”

“Many of the packers think it’s a place for devil worship, but I asked about it at the Whitehorse Philosopher’s Academy and was directed to a chemist at the Chemical Works who told me it was a toxic waste dump from the Golden Age. He said there is another larger one in the desert much further south. I’ve never met anyone who has seen the other one though.”^[2]

“Does anyone live at the Dragon’s Bier?”

“No one has ever been seen there.”

“I wonder who keeps the beacons flashing and the noise makers working? Wouldn’t they need fixing from time to time?”

“I don’t know. It’s a mystery,” Leon replied.

When we reached the old railway bed, we were able to make better time, but we had to make many detours at the larger creeks and ravines where the bridges had been taken out. Leon noticed that the road had been traveled on recently. He was able to discern camel and mule tracks, but among the animal tracks were those of machines. To avoid detection we went back to night travel and viewed the road ahead from the air meticulously each day before we continued our journey. At night I watched the screens while Dugger drove.

Trees began to appear along the river courses and near the rock outcrops. Most were long-needled pine, but here and there clumps of oak, maple, and hickory grew. This area was uninhabited, although we began to see sites where trees had been cut down and hauled to the east with horse and wagon.

On the third day after leaving Lake Winnepeg, several small settlements were observed during aerial inspection. We bypassed these settlements late at night and parked out of view in the forest during the day. The next day, more settlements were observed from the air. Further along, we could see rolling grassland with farms where livestock grazed. All kinds of conveyances were traveling on the road between the settlements.

“We have reached the Great Clay Belt.^[3] It’s known for its livestock and grain production,” said Leon.

On the outskirts of one of the larger settlements, which Leon called Hearst, a ring of encampments came into view. Leon called for a closer inspection. At close range I could make out pens of cattle, sheep, and other livestock. In another area camels, horses, mules, and donkeys were tethered. Herds of these animals were being driven on the road from the east and west into the camp. A few were leaving the town in the opposite directions. After viewing the encampment, I had Leon look at the screen.

He watched the screen for a long time before he said, “Uhmm, I think we’ll stay put for the time being. Relax, while I look at my maps.” He took his map case, stepped down from the Strider, and walked to a large rock. There he took out a map, unrolled it, and began to study it. The rest of us could not control our curiosity and came to look at the screen. Then we all joined Leon to look at the map.

“It looks like a market fair like the one where we used to sell our sheep, wool, and carpets,” Amy said.

“Yes, it’s a livestock market and I must go to New Moosinee to see a friend who has some critical information for our mission. This is open and relatively highly populated country; we can’t take the Strider near the towns because it might be seen, and that would jeopardize the mission. I have also seen signs of Confederate patrols that I didn’t see the last time I was here. They may be looking for us. The Confederates may have offered a reward, and I don’t know if the local population would report us. Tonight, we will take the Strider south and hide it far from the road,” Leon said.

Amy and Martha looked perplexed. “What mission? I thought you were traders,” Amy asked.

Dugger and I looked at one another and then at Leon. We were not sure what Leon had told the women.

Leon smiled and then answered, “Sort of. We’re traders on a mission.”

“And what is the mission?” Amy asked sternly.

“It’s to recover something that is very valuable to our people, and perhaps to yours.”

“And what is this valuable thing?”

“I can’t say exactly what it is, but it’s something that could give us power over the Suncorans.”

“And where is it?”

“It’s deep in the Confederate territory.”

“And you’re going to take us there?” Martha asked incredulously.

“Some of us. Some of us will go to recover it, and some of us will stay with the Strider. But first, I must go to Hearst to buy camels to allow us to enter New Moosinee, where I plan to meet with a man who knows how we can obtain papers that will allow us to travel in the Confederacy. Travel is tightly controlled there, and we require identity papers. If we’re caught without papers, we could end up as guest workers in one of the Confederate coalmines or plantations.

“Tomorrow after we park the Strider I’ll take Amy and Martha, if you’re willing to help us, to buy some camels at the fair. I need someone who knows how to handle camels. Capability and Dugger don’t know much about camels. They can stay with the Strider. Amy, Martha, will you help me?”

Amy’s face lit up. “We will help you,” she replied enthusiastically.

Martha grimaced and then replied. “If we want to return home, I think we have little choice.”

“Why do we need camels?” Dugger asked.

“Because camel caravans travel in and out of New Moosinee all of the time, and the man who I want to contact is an old trader there. When we buy camels at Hearst, we can also buy supplies and transport them to the Strider. We especially need something that burns and could be used to replace the fuel we lost at the Athabasca River. I also want to buy clothes in the town. We’re hardly in fashion here and need clothes that allow us to blend in with the populace. These will do for now as traders from the west are not uncommon at this market, but within the Confederacy we will stand out like sore thumbs. Furthermore, it will be an opportunity to find out what’s happening in the region. We will get ready tomorrow,” Leon replied.

 

Nine

I heard Leon call out, “Amy, where are you?”

“Over here washing out some clothes,” she called back.

When Leon saw Amy, he went to her. “I dug out these backpacks for Martha and you to carry your things. Wear whatever you have for walking and riding,” he said. Then he took some gold armbands and necklaces out of a bag he brought from the Strider and handed them to her. Amy held them up in the light marveling at their beauty.

“Are they real?” she asked.

“They’re real, but don’t get used to them, for I have to trade or sell them to fund our travel. But I’ll promise you will have replacements and more when we reach journey’s end,” he said. Martha joined them. “Some for you to wear too,” he said handing her some jewelry.

Martha was astonished. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” she said as she put on the jewelry. She went to the Strider to look in a mirror and then stopped to show Dugger.

After Martha returned, Leon had the girls load their packs with clothes, tents, sleeping bags, and enough food and water to last several days. Next he went back to the Strider and retrieved two daggers that were carried in a sheath on a belt and two AK-47s with bandoliers and ammunition pouches that were to be carried over the shoulder. He gave a set of armaments to each woman, and then strapped on a holstered pistol and took out his ornate staff.

“You ladies look fearsome, but not out of place in these parts—it’s a lawless part of the country and everyone is armed. But if anyone asks, you are my daughters,” Leon said.

The last thing Leon placed in his pack was the Loris. “Capability, I’ll use this to keep in contact with you,” he said.

Then Leon had me watch the road from the air. He waited until I saw a camel train leave the market entrance and turn west towards us. Several riders led lines of camels that they had apparently just purchased and were driving away from the market. Leon said it was time to leave. Dugger and I bid them farewell and watched them walk towards the road. The town was some distance away, and communication with us through the Loris required that Leon set up a transmitter on the way. Over the next few days the transmitter provided radio transmission through the Loris that was good enough to allow me to frequently check on their progress.

When Leon and the women reached the road, they turned toward the oncoming caravan. It was noon before the travelers saw the cloud of dust rising from the train of camels and riders ahead. As the camel train drew near the pedestrians, the lead drover took a rifle out of a scabbard on his saddle, left the train, and rode ahead to meet them. Another drover rode up to the head of the train to take his place and brought the train to a halt.

As the drover came down the road, Amy and Martha unslung their rifles, undid the safety latch, and held them ready.

“Let me do the talking,” Leon told the women.

When the drover came close enough to see them clearly, he stopped and called out, “What are you doing here, granddad? This is no place to be on foot, especially with two young women.”

Leon took no notice of the drover’s rude remark, but informed him, “These women are my bodyguards and are very capable of defending me. Don’t offend them. Being on foot is not of our choosing. We were part of a caravan that was attacked by robbers. We escaped into the bush with only the belongings on our backs. The thieves made off with our camels and trade goods. We would be glad to have transport if it can be arranged. Could I talk to the boss?”

The drover waved to a man on a camel watching them from the end of the train, who then rode up to them. “What is it, Hank? What’s the holdup?” he asked when he reached the lead man.

“Boss, these people say they were robbed and are on foot. I think they want to buy some of our camels. Are you prepared to sell them any?” Hank asked.

“If they have money, everything is for sale,” the headman replied. Then he asked, “Where are you from?”

“We’re from a small village in the Northwest, and we were traveling here as part of a large caravan to trade furs and diamonds for camels and horses. We were set upon by bandits five days ago and escaped with little more than our lives,” Leon answered.

“Bad luck. We haven’t had nearly as many traders from the Northwest as we used to. Banditry is one of the problems, and the authorities seem unable to stop it.”

“Could we buy some of your camels to get us to the next town? We don’t have money but we have something to trade. Amy, can I have your necklace?” Leon asked. She reluctantly took the necklace from her neck and handed to Leon, who then handed it up to the leader. “This is solid gold with diamonds and sapphires and would buy a dozen camels but we only want five with saddles, three to ride and two to carry the packs. And I’d like to pick the animals.”

The leader weighed the necklace in his hand and held it up to the light. Finally, he took out his knife and nicked it and rubbed one of the encrusted diamonds against the blade. “It looks like the real thing,” he said, handing it to Hank, who also inspected it and then handed it back. The chief put the necklace in his pocket and turned to Hank. “Let him cut out five animals and tell Roscoe and Ernie that they’ll have to ride bareback until we get back to the ranch,” the headman said. He waved the camel train forward. Leon and the women stepped to the side of the road and waited for the approaching caravan. When the caravan reached them, the chief stopped the train and Leon went with Hank to select the animals.

In a short time Leon returned leading a string of five camels. Hank and two of the other drovers followed him carrying the saddles and dropped them in front of the women. The drovers returned to the train and the chief signaled the caravan forward. After the camel train passed, Leon and the women saddled the camels, mounted up, and headed east.

As they wended their way east, Amy drew her camel along side of Leon’s. “How come you bought only five? Wouldn’t they have sold you more?” Amy asked.

“Yes, but if we bought too many animals from one man at that price, word might get around. We can buy as many as we need at the market for a fair price and it will go unnoticed. Also we need to change our gold to money and go to the market to buy feed supplements for the camels and supplies for the Strider— and there are clothes to buy.”

When they neared the market, the road began to fill with people from several nearby villages. Many were on foot but others were mounted or drove various animal-drawn carts and wagons. Herds of animals, driven or being lead toward the auction arena, augmented the jostling throng. By the time Leon and the women reached the gate of the auction grounds, the road was so crowded that they had to dismount and lead their camels. They made their way through the gates, past the market stalls, and up the street to a fenced field designated as the visitors’ campgrounds. Near the campgrounds, pens were provided for the campers’ animals. The auction arena lay beyond the pens.

A guardhouse stood at the entrance of the campgrounds where visitors paid a fee and were checked for weapons. All weapons had to be handed over, labeled, and locked in a room. “We have a policy of a weapons-free camp and town on market days. That includes knives as well as guns. We do this because of past problems—too many people with vendettas to settle. They will be returned when you check out. We patrol the camp and it’s safe. Sign your name or make your mark on this sheet,” the guard said.

Leon did not quarrel with the guard and handed over the weapons. After Leon paid his fee with an old silver dollar from his pocket, the guard asked, “Your names?”

Leon replied, “Leon James”, and signed his name on a sheet of paper.

The women followed Leon’s instructions. “Amy James.” Amy replied.

“Martha James,” Martha said.

Leon wrote their names down for the women and had them make their mark. “No schooling,” Leon informed the guard. After the guard searched their baggage, they entered the campgrounds.

The field was full of tents and yurts of various designs, colors, and sizes. Baggage, saddles, and harness surrounded each abode marking the owner’s space. Carts were often parked in front. Animals were held separate from the tent grounds in nearby pens where they were attended by hostlers. For a few coins the hostlers fed, watered, and guarded the animals. But separation of the people and the animals was not complete because the animals had to be brought into the campsite to be unloaded and loaded. Signs exhorting the residents to pick up any droppings from their animals were everywhere, but were ignored. In fact, the droppings supplied the fuel for many of the campfires. Smoke from the fires combined with animal scents from the corrals and the air that occasionally wafted from the pit toilets created a pungent smell that filled the campgrounds and beyond.

“I’d rather be on the road,” Martha whispered holding her fingers to her nose.

“Our stay will be as brief as possible. Don’t drink the water unless it’s boiled, but you can wash in it,” Leon said, motioning to the common trough.

They found an unoccupied campsite, pitched their tents, one for Leon and another for the women, and unloaded their belongings. Afterwards, a hostler came and took the camels away.

“First thing tomorrow, we will exchange the gold and jewelry for money to buy camels and supplies. This means we have to find a moneychanger in the town. After we visit the moneychanger, I’ll take you two shopping. Then we can pick up our supplies,” Leon said.

The following morning, they prepared to enter the town. Martha and Amy had never been in such a large place and talked excitedly about their impending excursion. Their chatter made Leon nervous. “Not so loud ladies. Tent walls have ears,” he cautioned.

When they finished breakfast, Leon had the women hand over all the gold objects that they carried, and they all went to the guardhouse where they were given a pass to enter the town. Leon asked the guard for the address of a moneychanger. They entered the town and made their way through the maze of streets to the venue that the guard had recommended. The money exchange was a two-story building with thick stonewalls. Armed guards monitored the passage through each of the building’s two sets of doors. After they entered the building, Leon went to the teller at the desk and asked to exchange some gold for money. The teller had Martha and Amy take a seat, and then led Leon to the manager’s room. Soon Leon emerged and went to the teller who counted out a large amount of paper money. After putting the money in his purse, he motioned toward the exit.

After they left the money exchange, Leon took Martha and Amy to a clothing store located down the street where he asked the saleslady to outfit the women with dresses and work clothes. The saleslady soon realized that the women were naïve about fashion and took them in hand to select their new outfits. They had not seen clothes that were so different in style before. In the colony their clothes were all hand-made and most of them from cloth woven on site. All of the women in the colony wore similar clothing, for their religious practice forbade ostentatious display. Martha and Amy were excited to look and try on the different dresses and suits.

When the sales lady brought out undergarments, Martha expressed consternation, “We can’t wear those things. We have our temple garments to wear which protects us from evil. I’ll buy cloth to make my own when the one I have wears out.

“They look fashionable to me,” Amy said, “I think I’ll try some on. My garment is getting thin and I have no intention of sewing another. Maybe I can wear them under the one I have.”

Leon was well aware of Mormon tradition of wearing religious garments and had seen them hanging by the Strider after they were laundered. He wasn’t about to interfere with the women fashion choices, but he didn’t believe Amy was about to wear two sets of underwear.

While they tried on their new clothes, the saleslady asked Leon, “Where is your home?”

Leon’s reply was vague. “It’s a little village in the Northwest. The villagers will be impressed with the new fashions. I will stop here on my next trip to buy clothes if the women there like the ones that these ladies buy.” The saleslady seemed happy with the reply and turned her attention to Amy and Martha.

Leon also bought several sets of men’s clothes from the men’s section. When all of the clothing was selected and piled up for purchase, he paid the bill and smiled when they expressed their gratitude. Martha and Amy chattered happily about their choices as they carefully folded and placed them in their packs. On seeing their delight, Leon said, “I think that we should go out to eat after our shopping.”

They shopped all morning buying new work boots and hats in addition to the clothes. Leon bought drover’s hats for them. “These will make you look more in place when we travel to New Moosinee,” he said. The hats were similar to the large brimmed felt hats worn by the camel drovers that they had met on the road.

Amy put her hat on and admired herself in the mirror. “Now, look at me. I never thought I’d be a camel drover,” she said. Martha was less enthusiastic, but smiled when she looked in the mirror.

After the clothing purchases, Leon took them to a candle shop where he bought several large boxes of candles.

“What are these for?” asked Martha.

“These can be mixed with kerosene to power the Strider. Since we lost two of the large fuel bags at the Athabasca River, we’re short of fuel,” Leon said. “We have other things to buy, but these can be bought at the stalls in the auction market. For now we have all we can carry. Let’s go and have something to eat.”

They went up yet another street to a cafe and after unloading their packs and packages, sat down at one of the tables. Martha and Amy were excited, for they hadn’t eaten in restaurant before. But when the waiter brought the menu, they stared blankly at it. Leon picked up the menu, read it to them, and helped them order food and drinks. The food soon arrived and they began their meal. Everyone was happy, for it seemed like the culmination of a perfect morning.

As they laughed and chattered, they didn’t notice three men who were sitting at the bar drinking. During the course of the meal, the attention of the men had been drawn to the dinner party, and one, a large burly man, began to watch them intently. The waiter viewed this development with alarm and came over to the table and whispered to Leon, “Those men at the bar are Blackcreek agents and they’re showing an interest in you and the women. They’re trouble. Eat your lunch and get out of here quickly.”

After glancing at the men, Leon looked concerned. “I’m sorry to break up the party, but do as he says,” he said. A pall fell over their table and their gaiety lapsed into apprehension.

At this point the large man, sensing that the diners had become aware of being watched, got up and approached their table. “You two are too pretty to be hanging around with this old geezer. Why don’t you come over and join us?” he said. He came close to their table and stood towering over them. They could smell his beery breath. “Come on. I have the afternoon free. I’ll show you the sights of the town,” he said. He came close to Amy. She drew back in revulsion. “What’s the matter babe? Wouldn’t you like a real man to show you around?”

Sensing trouble, the other customers began to get up from their tables and leave. Leon clutched his staff and signaled that they should do likewise. As they got up to go, the man looked at their bundle of new clothes. “What is this? The girls have new clothes. Maybe you should try them on. I’d like to watch,” he said grabbing Amy by the shoulder.

“Get your grimy hands off of me,” she said.

Putting his face close to hers, he snarled, “Don’t you know who I am? See these crosses,” he said pointing with his other hand to his shoulder. “I’m Blackcreek and you do what I say or I’ll mess up that pretty face.”

He shouldn’t have done that, for in an almost reflexive response, she slipped out the razor that she carried in her belt and shoved it between his legs. “Get your hands off of me. Otherwise, you’ll be less than a real man,” she said.

The man seemed not to be aware of her sudden movement until he felt something nudge his crotch and looked down to see the razor. He looked surprised and recoiled, letting go of her and pushing her away.

Turning to the two men at the bar he said, “Did you see that? The bitch has a knife.”

“It’s a razor, and I’ll shave a little off you if you dare touch me again.”

He turned back to Amy. “I’m not going to let this pass,” he said.

But one of the men at the bar called out, “Lay off, Andy, you’re in enough trouble already without pestering another peasant woman.”

The other man laughed.

“I mean it. Leave her alone.” The first man said.

Andy stalked back to his table.

Leon laid some money on the table. Then he helped the women pick up their packs and packages and they left as quickly as possible. When they were far enough from the restaurant that they couldn’t be overheard, Leon said, “That was a close call—I didn’t want to use my staff. It might have brought a posse of Blackcreek on us. We need to get out of here as soon as possible. I’ll buy the camels and saddles this afternoon. You two can buy the supplies at the concessions. I’ll give you money and tell you what I want. We will leave as soon as the animals are saddled and packed. It’s too dangerous to stay any longer. And, Amy, you should have let me know that you were carrying a knife. We don’t want the local authorities on our back too,” he added.

“It’s only a razor. I carry it all the time.”

As soon as they returned to the campgrounds, they set about their preparations to exit the market. By evening Leon had sixteen camels lined up at the hitching rails, including the five they rode in on, and they had a pile of supplies, including feed supplements, cooking oil, kerosene, and more candles. Leon had also bought enough packsaddles to outfit each new animal.

They had just broken off from their task to have a meal of cold dried meat, biscuits, and tea when they were interrupted by one of the guards from the guardhouse. “Two Blackcreek agents are here asking about you. They’re both drunk and won’t be put off. They’re especially interested in one of your women. I’d get her out of here and soon,” he said.

He left them pondering what to do, but soon a lady from an adjacent campsite approached them, “They can come with me. Both of them,” she offered. It was apparent that others in camp knew whom the Blackcreek agents were and were concerned about what they might do.

“Go with her. I’ll stay and confront these gents when they come. I’ve handled worse men than these, and this time I have a potent weapon to help me,” Leon said, picking up his staff. The two entered the camp. One was the agent, Andy, and the other was an unidentified companion. They were both drunk and looking for trouble. At first the women were afraid for Leon, but help came from a surprising source. As soon as the two men entered the camp, the residents began to bang on their pots and pans. Soon others joined in, and a crowd of people began to gather from other parts of the camp. The din grew so loud that when the Blackcreek men began to question the camp residents, the people they questioned pretended they couldn’t hear because of the noise. The two men didn’t call for backup and soon gave up and left the camp.

After the Blackcreek men left, the camp residents helped Leon and the women pack up the supplies and load the camels. When the camels were loaded, Leon led the pack train to the guardhouse where they picked up their weapons. Then they drove the camel caravan out of the camp and turned west back toward the Strider.

They traveled all night in the dark with the help of my guidance through the Loris, stopping only to rest the camels. By dawn they turned south to rendezvous with the Strider.

^[1] I am not certain either, but the expedition coincided with one of the many long droughts that naturally occur in this region and had become more intense and frequent with warmer temperatures. Also, the Suncorans filled their reservoirs upstream about this time. A.Z.

^[2] It was actually a waste dump created by the ancient Canada regime to store waste from decommissioned nuclear power plants. The facility was called the Whiteshell Nuclear Research Establishment. In the twenty-first century the production of nuclear power ended as the supply of uranium was depleted and the power plants became too expensive to operate. The waste dump is still there but the beacon has gone out. The other waste dump was Yucca Mountain located in the former state of Nevada, and was used to store nuclear waste from the old republic. A.Z.

^[3] The Clay Belt was a large basin of clay deposited during glacial times. Before the Warming it was not farmed because the growing season was too short and the soils too cold. It was one of few agriculture regions that benefited from a warmer climate. A.Z.

“Does anyone live at the Dragon’s Bier?”

“No one has ever been seen there.”

“I wonder who keeps the beacons flashing and the noise makers working? Wouldn’t they need fixing from time to time?”

“I don’t know. It’s a mystery,” Leon replied.

When we reached the old railway bed, we were able to make better time, but we had to make many detours at the larger creeks and ravines where the bridges had been taken out. Leon noticed that the road had been traveled on recently. He was able to discern camel and mule tracks, but among the animal tracks were those of machines. To avoid detection we went back to night travel and viewed the road ahead from the air meticulously each day before we continued our journey. At night I watched the screens while Dugger drove.

Trees began to appear along the river courses and near the rock outcrops. Most were long-needled pine, but here and there clumps of oak, maple, and hickory grew. This area was uninhabited, although we began to see sites where trees had been cut down and hauled to the east with horse and wagon.

On the third day after leaving Lake Winnepeg, several small settlements were observed during aerial inspection. We bypassed these settlements late at night and parked out of view in the forest during the day. The next day, more settlements were observed from the air. Further along, we could see rolling grassland with farms where livestock grazed. All kinds of conveyances were traveling on the road between the settlements.

“We have reached the Great Clay Belt.^[3] It’s known for its livestock and grain production,” said Leon.

On the outskirts of one of the larger settlements, which Leon called Hearst, a ring of encampments came into view. Leon called for a closer inspection. At close range I could make out pens of cattle, sheep, and other livestock. In another area camels, horses, mules, and donkeys were tethered. Herds of these animals were being driven on the road from the east and west into the camp. A few were leaving the town in the opposite directions. After viewing the encampment, I had Leon look at the screen.

He watched the screen for a long time before he said, “Uhmm, I think we’ll stay put for the time being. Relax, while I look at my maps.” He took his map case, stepped down from the Strider, and walked to a large rock. There he took out a map, unrolled it, and began to study it. The rest of us could not control our curiosity and came to look at the screen. Then we all joined Leon to look at the map.

“It looks like a market fair like the one where we used to sell our sheep, wool, and carpets,” Amy said.

“Yes, it’s a livestock market and I must go to New Moosinee to see a friend who has some critical information for our mission. This is open and relatively highly populated country; we can’t take the Strider near the towns because it might be seen, and that would jeopardize the mission. I have also seen signs of Confederate patrols that I didn’t see the last time I was here. They may be looking for us. The Confederates may have offered a reward, and I don’t know if the local population would report us. Tonight, we will take the Strider south and hide it far from the road,” Leon said.

Amy and Martha looked perplexed. “What mission? I thought you were traders,” Amy asked.

Dugger and I looked at one another and then at Leon. We were not sure what Leon had told the women.

Leon smiled and then answered, “Sort of. We’re traders on a mission.”

“And what is the mission?” Amy asked sternly.

“It’s to recover something that is very valuable to our people, and perhaps to yours.”

“And what is this valuable thing?”

“I can’t say exactly what it is, but it’s something that could give us power over the Suncorans.”

“And where is it?”

“It’s deep in the Confederate territory.”

“And you’re going to take us there?” Martha asked incredulously.

“Some of us. Some of us will go to recover it, and some of us will stay with the Strider. But first, I must go to Hearst to buy camels to allow us to enter New Moosinee, where I plan to meet with a man who knows how we can obtain papers that will allow us to travel in the Confederacy. Travel is tightly controlled there, and we require identity papers. If we’re caught without papers, we could end up as guest workers in one of the Confederate coalmines or plantations.

“Tomorrow after we park the Strider I’ll take Amy and Martha, if you’re willing to help us, to buy some camels at the fair. I need someone who knows how to handle camels. Capability and Dugger don’t know much about camels. They can stay with the Strider. Amy, Martha, will you help me?”

Amy’s face lit up. “We will help you,” she replied enthusiastically.

Martha grimaced and then replied. “If we want to return home, I think we have little choice.”

“Why do we need camels?” Dugger asked.

“Because camel caravans travel in and out of New Moosinee all of the time, and the man who I want to contact is an old trader there. When we buy camels at Hearst, we can also buy supplies and transport them to the Strider. We especially need something that burns and could be used to replace the fuel we lost at the Athabasca River. I also want to buy clothes in the town. We’re hardly in fashion here and need clothes that allow us to blend in with the populace. These will do for now as traders from the west are not uncommon at this market, but within the Confederacy we will stand out like sore thumbs. Furthermore, it will be an opportunity to find out what’s happening in the region. We will get ready tomorrow,” Leon replied.

Nine

I heard Leon call out, “Amy, where are you?”

“Over here washing out some clothes,” she called back.

When Leon saw Amy, he went to her. “I dug out these backpacks for Martha and you to carry your things. Wear whatever you have for walking and riding,” he said. Then he took some gold armbands and necklaces out of a bag he brought from the Strider and handed them to her. Amy held them up in the light marveling at their beauty.

“Are they real?” she asked.

“They’re real, but don’t get used to them, for I have to trade or sell them to fund our travel. But I’ll promise you will have replacements and more when we reach journey’s end,” he said. Martha joined them. “Some for you to wear too,” he said handing her some jewelry.

Martha was astonished. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” she said as she put on the jewelry. She went to the Strider to look in a mirror and then stopped to show Dugger.

After Martha returned, Leon had the girls load their packs with clothes, tents, sleeping bags, and enough food and water to last several days. Next he went back to the Strider and retrieved two daggers that were carried in a sheath on a belt and two AK-47s with bandoliers and ammunition pouches that were to be carried over the shoulder. He gave a set of armaments to each woman, and then strapped on a holstered pistol and took out his ornate staff.

“You ladies look fearsome, but not out of place in these parts—it’s a lawless part of the country and everyone is armed. But if anyone asks, you are my daughters,” Leon said.

The last thing Leon placed in his pack was the Loris. “Capability, I’ll use this to keep in contact with you,” he said.

Then Leon had me watch the road from the air. He waited until I saw a camel train leave the market entrance and turn west towards us. Several riders led lines of camels that they had apparently just purchased and were driving away from the market. Leon said it was time to leave. Dugger and I bid them farewell and watched them walk towards the road. The town was some distance away, and communication with us through the Loris required that Leon set up a transmitter on the way. Over the next few days the transmitter provided radio transmission through the Loris that was good enough to allow me to frequently check on their progress.

When Leon and the women reached the road, they turned toward the oncoming caravan. It was noon before the travelers saw the cloud of dust rising from the train of camels and riders ahead. As the camel train drew near the pedestrians, the lead drover took a rifle out of a scabbard on his saddle, left the train, and rode ahead to meet them. Another drover rode up to the head of the train to take his place and brought the train to a halt.

As the drover came down the road, Amy and Martha unslung their rifles, undid the safety latch, and held them ready.

“Let me do the talking,” Leon told the women.

When the drover came close enough to see them clearly, he stopped and called out, “What are you doing here, granddad? This is no place to be on foot, especially with two young women.”

Leon took no notice of the drover’s rude remark, but informed him, “These women are my bodyguards and are very capable of defending me. Don’t offend them. Being on foot is not of our choosing. We were part of a caravan that was attacked by robbers. We escaped into the bush with only the belongings on our backs. The thieves made off with our camels and trade goods. We would be glad to have transport if it can be arranged. Could I talk to the boss?”

The drover waved to a man on a camel watching them from the end of the train, who then rode up to them. “What is it, Hank? What’s the holdup?” he asked when he reached the lead man.

“Boss, these people say they were robbed and are on foot. I think they want to buy some of our camels. Are you prepared to sell them any?” Hank asked.

“If they have money, everything is for sale,” the headman replied. Then he asked, “Where are you from?”

“We’re from a small village in the Northwest, and we were traveling here as part of a large caravan to trade furs and diamonds for camels and horses. We were set upon by bandits five days ago and escaped with little more than our lives,” Leon answered.

“Bad luck. We haven’t had nearly as many traders from the Northwest as we used to. Banditry is one of the problems, and the authorities seem unable to stop it.”

“Could we buy some of your camels to get us to the next town? We don’t have money but we have something to trade. Amy, can I have your necklace?” Leon asked. She reluctantly took the necklace from her neck and handed to Leon, who then handed it up to the leader. “This is solid gold with diamonds and sapphires and would buy a dozen camels but we only want five with saddles, three to ride and two to carry the packs. And I’d like to pick the animals.”

The leader weighed the necklace in his hand and held it up to the light. Finally, he took out his knife and nicked it and rubbed one of the encrusted diamonds against the blade. “It looks like the real thing,” he said, handing it to Hank, who also inspected it and then handed it back. The chief put the necklace in his pocket and turned to Hank. “Let him cut out five animals and tell Roscoe and Ernie that they’ll have to ride bareback until we get back to the ranch,” the headman said. He waved the camel train forward. Leon and the women stepped to the side of the road and waited for the approaching caravan. When the caravan reached them, the chief stopped the train and Leon went with Hank to select the animals.

In a short time Leon returned leading a string of five camels. Hank and two of the other drovers followed him carrying the saddles and dropped them in front of the women. The drovers returned to the train and the chief signaled the caravan forward. After the camel train passed, Leon and the women saddled the camels, mounted up, and headed east.

As they wended their way east, Amy drew her camel along side of Leon’s. “How come you bought only five? Wouldn’t they have sold you more?” Amy asked.

“Yes, but if we bought too many animals from one man at that price, word might get around. We can buy as many as we need at the market for a fair price and it will go unnoticed. Also we need to change our gold to money and go to the market to buy feed supplements for the camels and supplies for the Strider— and there are clothes to buy.”

When they neared the market, the road began to fill with people from several nearby villages. Many were on foot but others were mounted or drove various animal-drawn carts and wagons. Herds of animals, driven or being lead toward the auction arena, augmented the jostling throng. By the time Leon and the women reached the gate of the auction grounds, the road was so crowded that they had to dismount and lead their camels. They made their way through the gates, past the market stalls, and up the street to a fenced field designated as the visitors’ campgrounds. Near the campgrounds, pens were provided for the campers’ animals. The auction arena lay beyond the pens.

A guardhouse stood at the entrance of the campgrounds where visitors paid a fee and were checked for weapons. All weapons had to be handed over, labeled, and locked in a room. “We have a policy of a weapons-free camp and town on market days. That includes knives as well as guns. We do this because of past problems—too many people with vendettas to settle. They will be returned when you check out. We patrol the camp and it’s safe. Sign your name or make your mark on this sheet,” the guard said.

Leon did not quarrel with the guard and handed over the weapons. After Leon paid his fee with an old silver dollar from his pocket, the guard asked, “Your names?”

Leon replied, “Leon James”, and signed his name on a sheet of paper.

The women followed Leon’s instructions. “Amy James.” Amy replied.

“Martha James,” Martha said.

Leon wrote their names down for the women and had them make their mark. “No schooling,” Leon informed the guard. After the guard searched their baggage, they entered the campgrounds.

The field was full of tents and yurts of various designs, colors, and sizes. Baggage, saddles, and harness surrounded each abode marking the owner’s space. Carts were often parked in front. Animals were held separate from the tent grounds in nearby pens where they were attended by hostlers. For a few coins the hostlers fed, watered, and guarded the animals. But separation of the people and the animals was not complete because the animals had to be brought into the campsite to be unloaded and loaded. Signs exhorting the residents to pick up any droppings from their animals were everywhere, but were ignored. In fact, the droppings supplied the fuel for many of the campfires. Smoke from the fires combined with animal scents from the corrals and the air that occasionally wafted from the pit toilets created a pungent smell that filled the campgrounds and beyond.

“I’d rather be on the road,” Martha whispered holding her fingers to her nose.

“Our stay will be as brief as possible. Don’t drink the water unless it’s boiled, but you can wash in it,” Leon said, motioning to the common trough.

They found an unoccupied campsite, pitched their tents, one for Leon and another for the women, and unloaded their belongings. Afterwards, a hostler came and took the camels away.

“First thing tomorrow, we will exchange the gold and jewelry for money to buy camels and supplies. This means we have to find a moneychanger in the town. After we visit the moneychanger, I’ll take you two shopping. Then we can pick up our supplies,” Leon said.

The following morning, they prepared to enter the town. Martha and Amy had never been in such a large place and talked excitedly about their impending excursion. Their chatter made Leon nervous. “Not so loud ladies. Tent walls have ears,” he cautioned.

When they finished breakfast, Leon had the women hand over all the gold objects that they carried, and they all went to the guardhouse where they were given a pass to enter the town. Leon asked the guard for the address of a moneychanger. They entered the town and made their way through the maze of streets to the venue that the guard had recommended. The money exchange was a two-story building with thick stonewalls. Armed guards monitored the passage through each of the building’s two sets of doors. After they entered the building, Leon went to the teller at the desk and asked to exchange some gold for money. The teller had Martha and Amy take a seat, and then led Leon to the manager’s room. Soon Leon emerged and went to the teller who counted out a large amount of paper money. After putting the money in his purse, he motioned toward the exit.

After they left the money exchange, Leon took Martha and Amy to a clothing store located down the street where he asked the saleslady to outfit the women with dresses and work clothes. The saleslady soon realized that the women were naïve about fashion and took them in hand to select their new outfits. They had not seen clothes that were so different in style before. In the colony their clothes were all hand-made and most of them from cloth woven on site. All of the women in the colony wore similar clothing, for their religious practice forbade ostentatious display. Martha and Amy were excited to look and try on the different dresses and suits.

When the sales lady brought out undergarments, Martha expressed consternation, “We can’t wear those things. We have our temple garments to wear which protects us from evil. I’ll buy cloth to make my own when the one I have wears out.

“They look fashionable to me,” Amy said, “I think I’ll try some on. My garment is getting thin and I have no intention of sewing another. Maybe I can wear them under the one I have.”

Leon was well aware of Mormon tradition of wearing religious garments and had seen them hanging by the Strider after they were laundered. He wasn’t about to interfere with the women fashion choices, but he didn’t believe Amy was about to wear two sets of underwear.

While they tried on their new clothes, the saleslady asked Leon, “Where is your home?”

Leon’s reply was vague. “It’s a little village in the Northwest. The villagers will be impressed with the new fashions. I will stop here on my next trip to buy clothes if the women there like the ones that these ladies buy.” The saleslady seemed happy with the reply and turned her attention to Amy and Martha.

Leon also bought several sets of men’s clothes from the men’s section. When all of the clothing was selected and piled up for purchase, he paid the bill and smiled when they expressed their gratitude. Martha and Amy chattered happily about their choices as they carefully folded and placed them in their packs. On seeing their delight, Leon said, “I think that we should go out to eat after our shopping.”

They shopped all morning buying new work boots and hats in addition to the clothes. Leon bought drover’s hats for them. “These will make you look more in place when we travel to New Moosinee,” he said. The hats were similar to the large brimmed felt hats worn by the camel drovers that they had met on the road.

Amy put her hat on and admired herself in the mirror. “Now, look at me. I never thought I’d be a camel drover,” she said. Martha was less enthusiastic, but smiled when she looked in the mirror.

After the clothing purchases, Leon took them to a candle shop where he bought several large boxes of candles.

“What are these for?” asked Martha.

“These can be mixed with kerosene to power the Strider. Since we lost two of the large fuel bags at the Athabasca River, we’re short of fuel,” Leon said. “We have other things to buy, but these can be bought at the stalls in the auction market. For now we have all we can carry. Let’s go and have something to eat.”

They went up yet another street to a cafe and after unloading their packs and packages, sat down at one of the tables. Martha and Amy were excited, for they hadn’t eaten in restaurant before. But when the waiter brought the menu, they stared blankly at it. Leon picked up the menu, read it to them, and helped them order food and drinks. The food soon arrived and they began their meal. Everyone was happy, for it seemed like the culmination of a perfect morning.

As they laughed and chattered, they didn’t notice three men who were sitting at the bar drinking. During the course of the meal, the attention of the men had been drawn to the dinner party, and one, a large burly man, began to watch them intently. The waiter viewed this development with alarm and came over to the table and whispered to Leon, “Those men at the bar are Blackcreek agents and they’re showing an interest in you and the women. They’re trouble. Eat your lunch and get out of here quickly.”

After glancing at the men, Leon looked concerned. “I’m sorry to break up the party, but do as he says,” he said. A pall fell over their table and their gaiety lapsed into apprehension.

At this point the large man, sensing that the diners had become aware of being watched, got up and approached their table. “You two are too pretty to be hanging around with this old geezer. Why don’t you come over and join us?” he said. He came close to their table and stood towering over them. They could smell his beery breath. “Come on. I have the afternoon free. I’ll show you the sights of the town,” he said. He came close to Amy. She drew back in revulsion. “What’s the matter babe? Wouldn’t you like a real man to show you around?”

Sensing trouble, the other customers began to get up from their tables and leave. Leon clutched his staff and signaled that they should do likewise. As they got up to go, the man looked at their bundle of new clothes. “What is this? The girls have new clothes. Maybe you should try them on. I’d like to watch,” he said grabbing Amy by the shoulder.

“Get your grimy hands off of me,” she said.

Putting his face close to hers, he snarled, “Don’t you know who I am? See these crosses,” he said pointing with his other hand to his shoulder. “I’m Blackcreek and you do what I say or I’ll mess up that pretty face.”

He shouldn’t have done that, for in an almost reflexive response, she slipped out the razor that she carried in her belt and shoved it between his legs. “Get your hands off of me. Otherwise, you’ll be less than a real man,” she said.

The man seemed not to be aware of her sudden movement until he felt something nudge his crotch and looked down to see the razor. He looked surprised and recoiled, letting go of her and pushing her away.

Turning to the two men at the bar he said, “Did you see that? The bitch has a knife.”

“It’s a razor, and I’ll shave a little off you if you dare touch me again.”

He turned back to Amy. “I’m not going to let this pass,” he said.

But one of the men at the bar called out, “Lay off, Andy, you’re in enough trouble already without pestering another peasant woman.”

The other man laughed.

“I mean it. Leave her alone.” The first man said.

Andy stalked back to his table.

Leon laid some money on the table. Then he helped the women pick up their packs and packages and they left as quickly as possible. When they were far enough from the restaurant that they couldn’t be overheard, Leon said, “That was a close call—I didn’t want to use my staff. It might have brought a posse of Blackcreek on us. We need to get out of here as soon as possible. I’ll buy the camels and saddles this afternoon. You two can buy the supplies at the concessions. I’ll give you money and tell you what I want. We will leave as soon as the animals are saddled and packed. It’s too dangerous to stay any longer. And, Amy, you should have let me know that you were carrying a knife. We don’t want the local authorities on our back too,” he added.

“It’s only a razor. I carry it all the time.”

As soon as they returned to the campgrounds, they set about their preparations to exit the market. By evening Leon had sixteen camels lined up at the hitching rails, including the five they rode in on, and they had a pile of supplies, including feed supplements, cooking oil, kerosene, and more candles. Leon had also bought enough packsaddles to outfit each new animal.

They had just broken off from their task to have a meal of cold dried meat, biscuits, and tea when they were interrupted by one of the guards from the guardhouse. “Two Blackcreek agents are here asking about you. They’re both drunk and won’t be put off. They’re especially interested in one of your women. I’d get her out of here and soon,” he said.

He left them pondering what to do, but soon a lady from an adjacent campsite approached them, “They can come with me. Both of them,” she offered. It was apparent that others in camp knew whom the Blackcreek agents were and were concerned about what they might do.

“Go with her. I’ll stay and confront these gents when they come. I’ve handled worse men than these, and this time I have a potent weapon to help me,” Leon said, picking up his staff. The two entered the camp. One was the agent, Andy, and the other was an unidentified companion. They were both drunk and looking for trouble. At first the women were afraid for Leon, but help came from a surprising source. As soon as the two men entered the camp, the residents began to bang on their pots and pans. Soon others joined in, and a crowd of people began to gather from other parts of the camp. The din grew so loud that when the Blackcreek men began to question the camp residents, the people they questioned pretended they couldn’t hear because of the noise. The two men didn’t call for backup and soon gave up and left the camp.

After the Blackcreek men left, the camp residents helped Leon and the women pack up the supplies and load the camels. When the camels were loaded, Leon led the pack train to the guardhouse where they picked up their weapons. Then they drove the camel caravan out of the camp and turned west back toward the Strider.

They traveled all night in the dark with the help of my guidance through the Loris, stopping only to rest the camels. By dawn they turned south to rendezvous with the Strider.

 

 

.