The U.S. President sells NASA's assets, the moonbase, the lunar platinum mines, and the U.S. space station to the Chinese to relieve a devastated economy. USMC Colonel Jackie Miller longs for General's stars. The president offers the promotion if she can return the unwilling engineers and settlers to Earth before the Chinese arrive to move in.

Matt Newcomb is Captain of Team Alpha, the first US explorers on Mars. Team Beta, the replacement crew, just arrived. Though Matt would like to reconnect with an Alpha engineer, Iris, his college sweetheart, she still can't trust him from before. He also wants to stay and establish a colony, but he must return his team to Earth next week. Then, someone sabotages both expeditions' flyers, marooning everyone. The president promises an unreliable, drone supply ship that might fail, so both teams plan for a long-term survival. They launch expeditions to find water and methane for fuel, and they attempt to grow crops. Meanwhile, Iris secretly carries Matt's child.

Matt receives a message from the moonbase. The military is coming to forcibly transport engineers and settlers to Earth, so now Richard Nickelose, a space station engineer is bringing four-hundred men, women, and children to Mars in a ramshackle ship with the Marines chasing right behind them. Then, Matt learns Iris is pregnant.

Time Enough

Recently widowed Larkin Howpal, the former-leader of an alien Dyson sphere built to study its star, returns from retirement to investigate the first serious crime in millennia. Assisted by a female farmer, Sola, Larkin discovers their star is dying, and the Ancient's plan, assimilation of the eight billion seasoncycles of data they built their world to gather, is at risk.

They overcome rogue AIs vying for world control, abduction by farmers, and attacks by scientists. During their struggle to salvage the Ancients' plan, they fulfill each other's need for companionship and purpose. However, their efforts might be too late.

Time Enough, my completed 86,000-word science fiction novel, is a fresh story arc that should appeal to the same readers that appreciated the uniqueness of the novel Eon.

Book Review: The Fire In Fiction - Donald Maass



I recently finished Donald Maass' The Fire In Fiction. In summary, this is the single best book on writing I've come across. Mr. Maass covers the following topics:

Protagonists vs Heroes
Characters Who Matter
Scenes That Can't be Cut
Novels,
Voice
Making the Impossible Real
Hyper reality
Tension
The Fire in Fiction

Each chapter has nuts-and-bolts practical tools and exercises and all this from the man who is considered one of the top Literary Agents in the business as well as having authored numerous other works on writing.

I would recommend this for anyone serious about writing fiction.

Larry

4th Quarter Writers of the Future Contest - Honorable Mention

My short story "Lawman" received Honorable Mention in the forth quarter Writers of the Future contest.

Short Story Development

Based on my interpretation of James's Frey's 'The Key', I used his Myth Method to attempt to improve some of my old short stories. While this story is still a work in progress, it still illustrates the method and the result. So, you be the one to decide if this is helpful or not, but here goes:


DEVELOPMENT:


TIME ENOUGH - by L. K. Pinaire


GERMINAL IDEA:


The leading scientist and past chairman of Zinor's General Assembly has a life changing experience when he meets members of their world's lower cast who have discovered a vast spaceport in a remote region. Now though the scientists have been studying their star for a thousand millennia and will complete their task in the next two thousand years or so, they want to leave.


THE WORLD OF THE ORDINARY


Lars Maandsten is an astrophysicist who studies Zinor's dying star. The last of hundreds of generations of scientists on Zinor, he has outlived his wives and perhaps his usefulness. Their star is about to go nova in the next 2 to 2,000 season-cycles and the scientists are awaiting the end. No one knows Zinor is a Dyson sphere and have been taught since antiquity that everyone awaits their star's end.


THE CALL TO ADVENTURE

Lars receives a visit from an old friend, Grayson and a lower cast woman, Lola. They beckon him to visit the farmlands beyond the city where they have made a wondrous discovery that will change the course of Zinor's history. They need to discuss it with him there. After being haunted by dreams, which warn him not to go, he and Lola leave.


OVER THE THRESHOLD AND INTO THE WOODS


In the Farmlands, the rules are different:


· People live primitively with little electricity, few buildings and work the fields with beasts of burden.

· Organic material covers the ground.

· The lower cast believes in All, but do not recognize that the Ancients built Zinor for the single purpose of studying their dying star.

· They believe there is more to the universe than this world.

· They are discontent, angry and considering violence to achieve their freedom of choice. Many want to leave Zinor and explore the cosmos, whatever that is.


THE HERO MUST BE TESTED – THE TRIAL OF TRIALS


· Lars visits the fields where he meets Lola's sister, Lister. They show him the dreadful life of the lower cast.

· Lars visits the spaceport where they show him that the Ancients kept the ability to leave, and therefore must have considered it.

· Lars visits a hospital where the lower-cast die without benefit from science.

· Lars returns home with Lola and rediscovers his world.


DEATH, REBIRTH & CONFRONTATION W/ THE EVIL ONE


· Lars falls for Lola while he visits the country dwellers and sees the plight of their lifestyle and that the ancients apparently had planned to leave at some time. He and Lola return to the cities to disclose his revelations.


THE ARRIVAL HOME


· After a few weeks of living together in the Science Center, he is shocked at the anger and prejudice against her cast.

· He decides to throw his support toward the farmers and recommends they be allowed to leave.


THE HERO: Lars Maandsten


Zinor's leading astrophysicist

6'0" Tall

Hairless

Pale skinned

180 lbs
Photo omitted.

HERO'S PHYSIOLOGY (Body)


As an adult, Lars Maandsten is six-foot (1.83 meter) and 185 lbs (83.9 kilograms) with a thin, body. He is healthy and still works at 144 season-cycles of age. He is completely hairless and has brown eyes and looks like a man half his age.

Lars has a pleasant face, good teeth and a pleasant but reserved smile. He, like all the scientists, was bread for intelligence and his occupation. Like the other scientists, he seldom walks, using his seat for all transportation and his muscles show significant atrophy. He loves his star, likely more that the wives he's had over the years. Now, he lives alone. Lars is a steady as their sun and like it, now wanes in his latter years.


HERO'S SOCIOLOGY (History)


Lars was born in the capital city of the Planet Zinor. Born from sperm and ovary donors based on their genetics, he lives and works in the Science Center where they study the star.

Lars has outlived his five wives, but due to genetic issues, female life spans on Zinor were typically only half that of those for males. Besides, Lars had never been good at being a husband, virtually living in his laboratory to better study their star.


HERO'S PHYCHOLOGY (Needs)


Lars loves his star and has never been really interested in anything else. His wives have all been provided to take care of someone as important as him. For ten years he also took the position of Chairman of the Zinor General Assembly, but has since retired back to the labs.


He believes that sentient life is All's gift, and his duty is to study their star. The years he spent in the General Assembly did teach him that he had a duty to all those on this world. He always did his best during that time to practice fairness as long as it fit with the goals of All.

HERO'S WRITTEN JOURNAL – IN THEIR VOICE


Here I am, a hundred and forty, I've gone through five wives and I'm alone now. I'm not sure I care anymore. They still might bring another one in, but I don't know why. All I need is my star. It's really troubling, though, that I was born in time to study the beginning of it's end, the purpose of our existence, but I might still miss the big event by two millennia.


I just can't understand all the recent changes, the dissent from the peripheral regions and people questioning the laws of All. It doesn't make sense. You'd think that as long as people have been studying the star, people accept their roll in things. The ancients didn't build this world for nothing.


HERO's Lover: Lola


Farmer

Educated in the hospital, trained medical volunteer – studied eight years

37 season-cycles old

5'8" tall

Long blond hair in a bun when she works

Pale skinned

135 lbs
Photo omitted.


LOLA'S PHYSIOLOGY (Body)

As an adult, Lola is five-eight and 135 lbs with a thin but muscular build. Intelligent and fit, she works in the fields each day and in the big nearby clinic most evenings. She has long blond hair and blue eyes


LOLA'S SOCIOLOGY (History)


Lola was born in farming community that supports Zinor's capital and the Science Center. Her father was Steverston, a leading agriculturalist and esteemed farmer and her mother was Saras, a physician at the local clinic. Both she and her sister Lister, work together daily on the family plot.


LOLA'S PHYCHOLOGY (Needs)


What makes Lola special is her education. Few from her cast are taught more that farming, but because of her mother, she has learned medicine. She believes, like most farmers, that the cast system must go. She's aware that many want to leave and she's seen the spaceport. Because of her endless long hours, she is lonely.

LOLA'S WRITTEN JOURNAL – IN THEIR VOICE

Here I am, farming the land six days a week and working in the clinic until I'm so tired I drop to sleep without eating. Then, she considers all the people in the cities whose lives are as painless and effortless. The scientists ignore us and begrudge us the slightest convenience in our lives. Why? Then, there's the matter of the spaceport. If the ancients had intended us to stay on this world forever, why leave us ships that can travel beyond this world. I just wish that I could once, talk to these people. Maybe I could shake some sense into them.


TIME ENOUGH STEPSHEET


1. Begin in the word of common-day. The call to adventure has already been accepted.

Lars awakens from a dream where someone is warning him not to follow Grayson and the woman out of the city.

2. The Threshold

During the seat-flight to the farmlands, he worries whether his associates will pay their star the attention Lars normally gave it and why the farmers didn't see that their social order was the will of All.


3. And Into The Woods


They visit Lola's home, a farming community where people have never used seats and believe in All, but not the myth that the Ancients built Zinor to study their sun and stay till the end when it goes nova. They meet Lista, and Lars is revolted by the poverty.

Then they visit the spaceport where other primitives argue that the old story about All wanting the population to stay forever and study the star to its end was wrong. Someone, millions of people, had at one time planned to leave. They explain their desire to leave and need explore whatever else there is besides Zinor. They believe there is something beyond their world of steel.


Lars and Lola become involved and he convinces her to visit the city.


4. The Arrival Home, Death, Rebirth & Confrontation W/ The Truth


Lars brings Lola back to the city where he shows her the important aspects of his life:


· His star – where she learns to understand him.

· His Spartan apartment – where they grow closer.

· His friends – who, including Grayson, disapprove of their relationship, of her living in the city, of her genetics, education, culture and caste.

· The city – where passersby shun and ridicule her.

· The council – where he announces his support of the separatist movement.


After numerous attempts to leave, the discontent faction find and open the space door. Lars and Lola's daughter, Isidora, commands the last ship through the portal to explore the universe.



STORY (as it currently stands)



TIME ENOUGY – by L. K. Pinaire


Lars Maandsten gasped, unable to catch his breath. His heart thundered and his chest heaved, desperate ... starved for air. His eyes opened. Awake in his sleeping net, he turned his face to the side.


The room, his apartment, remained unchanged from last night, empty but for a few mementos, some simple furniture and a kitchen he never used. Safe, alive and at home, he waited for the perspiration on his body to dry.

Though awake, he grasped for the fading memory of the dream he just woke from: their star, his star, going nova and exploding. He knew it was too soon for that -- or was it?


***


They burst from the port and the scenery turned to a rainbow blur. Balanced on one of Zinor's great standing waves of EMF flux, Grayson's trans-seat, hardly larger than something to sit on, led with Lola's slaved to his side. Lars followed into the great outdoors, smiling at the firm inertial tug -- and trees and soil, hiding Zinor's floor. From his feet, through his body to his arms and hands and head, he felt alive and invigorated and enjoyed this very much.


A soft breeze sifted through the front field generators against his face. Their seats darted upward on the fluxways, toward the clouds and away from the city, their capitol and the Science Center.


Lars was more excited than he'd been in ages. He could feel a shit-eating grin covering his face.

Still, while wondering how Grayson and Lola talked him into this, he was grateful. He opened his comm. "Thank you both. I've never had so much fun."

"This is important, Lars. There are things we need to see, things you must see."

Lars didn't want to argue. Not with all this around him. And the girl, Lola. She excited him, and he was a hundred and forty-four, but now his life had slowed.

He really hadn't expected to find life, covering and hiding Zinor's surface, but surely their food came from somewhere. Rich smells, warmth and softness came from this thing they called the soil, and this day of revelations had just begun.

He leaned back and relaxed, until they swooped down toward some sort of activity and stopped a few meters above the surface.


A tall, dark and muscular female approached, walking naturally, as though she could stand on her feet forever.


Beside Grayson, Lola waived her hands and grinned with joy. "Lars, this is my sister, Lista."


The girl -- barely a woman and wearing only a loincloth, raised her hands to All, palms flat and forward, as a greeting. "Welcome to our farm."


While Grayson and Lola hovered, Lars nervously approached where Lista stood and faced her with one palm also aimed forward to All. "I'm Lars. Praise All." Then he saw the great beast, grazing behind her.


Trying to ignore Lola's half-naked sister, Lars turned to Grayson and pointed at the creature. "Why is that monster here?" He'd never seen such a thing before.


"We are tilling the land." Lista smiled back and Lars found himself excited for the second time, today. She climbed onto the back of Grayson's seat with her legs straddled around his and her arms wrapped around his chest. She rode there until they stopped, a meter above the ground, between a stand of towering flora near a small structure built from some mineral-like stuff.


Lars released his restraint, slid off his seat and stood. The pull on his legs made him wonder how anyone could do this more than a few minutes a day. Whooh! By the time he crouched and entered the place Lola identified as her dwelling, he had to catch his breath again.


They sat around a stone table on chairs carved from something dark and grainy that once might have lived. Lola stirred the cauldron while Lista dipped porridge into ceramic bowls. Lars gripped the wooden spoon but set it down when the women stood.


Hands raised to All, Lista gave a prayer of thanks. When they sat, Lola picked up her spoon. "Please enjoy your meal."


Lola's blue eyes glimmered with excitement. "Thank you, Lars, for coming to visit our part of the world." She smiled.


Lars couldn't get over the strength and beauty of these women. "Since my retirement from the General Assembly I've spent most of my time working in the lab. I appreciate the diversion."


A few chunks of meat danced in a thick broth. While a bit lean, its spicy flavor brought tears to his eyes. He smiled and wiped his mouth with a bare arm. The expressions on the sisters' faces suggested they were sharing a delicacy.


Lista sat up straight and looked his way. "Does the Assembly govern all the cities or just the Science Center?"


Lars smiled. "Oh, no, my dear, we govern all of Zinor." Her ignorance amazed him.


Then, Lista jumped back in. "Then why do you know so little about the part of your world that feeds you?" Sharpness had crept into her voice.


Lars caught his breath. "I don't know."


He glanced around at walls painted with rainbows of color, stuffed mats in the corner, and a hearth for cooking. In spite of the terrible poverty of this primitive life, they shared the best of what they had.


Grayson interrupted, "Lola, what did you think of our city?"


Now Lola remained speechless. Then she took an awkward breath and pushed out a smile. "It was an interesting and marvelous place, but so different from our world in the fields -- " She looked at Lista. " -- and our people."


Grayson interrupted again. "I know Lola doesn't want to talk about everything yet, but this trip, Lars, is of true importance and might effect all our lives."


Lola stood. "We will have plenty of time to talk once I show you more of our world, but now, we have work to do ... in the fields."


Lars swallowed his last bite before they returned to the seats and then to where they left the beast. Again, they stood.


While Lista and Lola pulled back on the beast's harness to attach it to a metal blade, Lars did his best to remain standing. He couldn't pull or lift or help in any way he could see, but he tried. If he were just a little younger.


Between the four, they hitched the beast to the blade and Lars managed to get from their way and stay standing while Lola and Lista tilled the field. Then, Lars collapsed next to Grayson from the worst exhaustion he'd ever known.


"How can you do this?" Lars asked anyone who might listen.


The women laughed, and Lola brought water to the men. Meanwhile, Lista guided the blade across the field, splitting the soil as it moved, releasing a soft fragrance that wafted around them on the breeze.


Nearly the victim of sensory saturation, Lars tried to grasp the myriad of ideas and experiences dancing in his head.

Lola looked into Lars' eyes. "Do you see? Our lives are a struggle."

Lars nodded. What could he say?


At the day's end, they returned to Lola's lair, and she pointed to the bedding on the floor. "You should rest. Tomorrow, I'd like for you to meet some of our leaders at the hospital."


After the best sleep he could get on a matt on Lola's stone floor, especially with all the light, he awakened to the sound of something alive, flying through the woods.


The girls had left, perhaps to work the fields. Lars arose, left Grayson still sleeping and steered to the den's flat stone roof. Above the hills and trees and away from the confines of the cities, bright orange flooded the sky and ground from all directions. Above anything that might block the light, the new day stunned him, but of course it would be like this -- until their star winked out.


When Lola and Lista returned, they bathed in water from her cistern and changed clothes. Their lack of modesty troubled him.

The clinic sat on a hill less than two klicks away. They landed and walked in, joining three older men in white gowns near a table with six place settings in a building lit by electricity.


When they sat, the older of the physicians, he guessed, stood with palms forward and out.


Then, Lola stood. "Our Clinical Director, Mr. Haastic will bless our meal."


"Welcome, gentlemen," the tallest of the men-in-white said. "After breakfast, there'll be a brief tour of our facilities and then, I believe, Lola has an agenda of her own."


The tallest man-in-white, a thin fellow, wore full facial hair. Lars had never seen that before. In fact, he'd never know any man with facial hair of any kind. Very odd.


Lars ate something dark and juicy in a bed of vegetables, as good as he'd ever tried. He'd ask Lola later if he had the chance.


In spite of the pain, they walked, touring operating rooms. Lars cringed. There, they cut people open with knives and -- shudder -- babies were born from their mother's wombs. Not much genetic selection that way. He struggled to keep his silence while Haastic explained the function of each clinic section.


Lars looked into Grayson's eyes. His friend since childhood, he had been the only one who could have convinced him to visit this place he heard of as a child but discarded as myth. "How could we allow this to happen?"


"I don't know." Grayson's words trailed of underscoring his frustration.


They finished in a long chamber with fans and beds where patients recovered from recent procedures. A nearby one caught his eye.


A preadolescent boy lay covered with course, white linen, and tubes ran from bags of fluid to a needle in his arm. A few oscilloscopes and meters traced his progress. Barbaric by any standards.


Lola moved both hands, as though to gesture to the whole room. "I'm sure your technology surpasses ours by measures that I can't even imagine. Remember, I saw your world."


"Of course, it does," Lars spoke before he could pull back the words. As though this poverty and the affluence in the cities were balanced by their study of their star. His heart twisted in deep regret.


"I'm sorry." He put his hand to his mouth. "I'm at a loss for words right now." Today's revelations had shaken him. He'd never felt so ill equipped to deal with a situation. Something long ago had gone terribly wrong here. "Let's go."


Lars' stomach turned sour. The sudden urge to walk away pulled hard. Lola took his hand and led him into the next room.


She smiled. "We're done here, unless you'd like to see more." Her expression faded.


"Just how could this have happened?" Guilt turned his eyes away. Lars took a deep breath. "I didn't know."


"I saw how you lived and more, when I visited your city." She also dropped her eyes. "I knew then: I had to show you."


They walked to meet Grayson, who maneuvered his seat and its slave-craft to meet Lars'.


"With the flesh raised where eyebrows might have grown," Grayson said, "You see? We had to bring you."


"I see," Lars shrugged.


"I knew I couldn't do this as well as Lola." Grayson pursed his lips.


Lola smiled. "I'd like to spend the remainder of the day here in the village and then we'll set out in the morning. I'll show you something that might change all our lives." Her eyes almost twinkled. "There are no seatways where we are going."


Lola and Lars took the joined seats back to the farm.


***


“This region must be the only place on Zinor with soil on the surface," Lars said. I’d never seen such a thing before, or the trees.” He took a deep breath at the sight of a jungle of broad leaves, swaying above them, stretching from stalk-like plants, forming a low canopy. Living growth, brilliant reds and blues, hung from the spines of the plants like some saprophytic tag-along softening the delicate view. And the fragrance… Another deep breath and he could sense something of their essence without the slightest touch.


Lars and Lola slid from their seats and waded though knee-deep growth, some clinging from his clothes, toward Lola's den, a stone hut against a hillside, with a flat roof. Flowering plants surrounded its base and everything nearby. Grayson and Lista remained at the clinic.


“Lars, you came today with your mind troubled and you’re body weary.” She touched the back of his hand with her fingers. “Have you forgotten the joys of living? Do you not have fun? Or love? What kind of life do you live?” She shook her head and led him inside. "You show the sign of All, but you don't seem to have Her joy in your heart.”


“Hon, I worship All, but from what I see, I suspect our beliefs might be different.”


She sat in the single-room dwelling and pulled his hand. "Thanks again, for leaving the Science Center. Being the senior scientist, the council will at least believe you when you tell them what you've seen." When Lars knelt beside her, she placed her lips against his and kissed him like a lover. The sight of her, the softness of her lips, and the closeness of her body, all took hold, and he lost the power to refuse.


In minutes both were intertwined like tangled leaves in the autumn, twisting and moving until the end. Then, he lay with her naked body against his, youth against antiquity. He never felt better in his life.


“Many of my people want to leave Zinor, you know,” she said before she kissed him again.


The blasphemy caught him off guard.


"I don't understand. Where would they go? What else is there but Zinor and our star, the sun?" How could they go against the Law of All?"


"Do you still believe All placed us here just to study our star?"


"It is true. How can you question that? What else is there to study?"


"Zinor itself? Something beyond? I don't know."


"Perhaps our beliefs are more different than I thought."


"My beliefs have changed." She was a steady, cool breeze on a hot day, a brief diversion from his life, but she did say the strangest things. He had to return, soon. His star awaited him.


Lars placed his fingertips on hers and then traced the shape of her lips with his forefinger. “Lola, I have never met anyone like you.” He kissed her for the longest time then released her.


“Spend the night with me. Tomorrow I'll show you what we found.” She ran her fingers over his chest, and her smile disarmed him.


He nodded and then fell back into the nest and they became closer acquainted until sleep took them.


***


Lars slid from his seat, and strong pain climbed his legs, the reward for so much time on his feet. He stood, proud he could still do this at his age. Many couldn't. Grayson also grimaced while Lola climbed down.



"Follow me down to the dock." She led and they did their best to follow until all three came to and sat down in a small covered sailboat, guided by two men.


The first standing water Lars had ever seen reflected all of Zinor back into the sky. The boat gradually gained speed and moved forward under the endless sky of silver.


"Your world is full of the unexpected." Lars stared at the channel, deep and longer than one could see.


Lola silently raised her palms to All and turned back and forth as though to show them a new miracle. From both sides, a lush jungle sent humid air across their bow. While they sat and talked, the scenery shifted, and the chirps of living creatures serenaded them for hours until she leaned into Lars' arms and slept.


Lars opened his eyes to Lola tugging on his wrist. "Okay! Let's go. We've have lots to see."


They'd anchored at a large concrete dock that ran at least a klick toward the bend of the ground. Synthetic bumpers separated their boat from the structure.


Lola climbed up and offered Lars then Grayson a helping hand. From there, cylinders with rounded noses appeared above the dock and pointed at the sky.


Lars' jaw dropped and he turned to see Grayson, smiling.


"I see you got to see everything first."


A sea of these tall objects broke the view as far as his eyes could discern. Lars remembered to exhale and shook his head.


"You see," Lola said. "These are starships, and something is not right. We've been lied to. When All guided the ancients here to build this world, more than a few of them planned to return somewhere. This law of All that we stay here till the end of time must be false, or why would they leave all this that we see? This is a spaceport." Her face wrinkled. "Something must have gone wrong."


"How long have you known?" Lars rubbed his chin and turned to Grayson. "How could this be a secret as old as time?"


Lola folded her hands into each other. "This place cannot be seen from your seatways. The only way here is still by boat. All your science is focused on that one single star. You give nothing else on Zinor a serious look."


Lars sat on the ground, astounded and exasperated. "Lola, we study our star to learn how it grows and ages. Duty binds us to wait for its final days. I was born and bred for this purpose. Why else did the ancients build Zinor?"


Grayson joined him.


Lola looked down. "I was also taught that All built Zinor, but I'm not sure what I believe anymore. We've been exploring this place for quite a while. Best we can tell, thanks to Grayson's analysis, they are ready to go minus a little fuel and recharging of the batteries. We contacted him to help us when we decided we didn't have the knowledge to go any further. They run using antimatter for fuel and there's a remarkable amount of it in storage, controlled by technology that looks more like magic. It's been running and repairing itself for eons. Welcome to our future."


Lars silently attempted to absorb all the changes. Now, this certainly alters the course of things. With their entire society structured around the science of this one star, the idea of change struck fear in his heart.


Lola offered a tour of a ship, but after a short time, Lars again felt ill.


He looked into Lola's eyes. "I suppose your people do want to leave here."


"I don't want to go anywhere, but many do." She paused. "Lars, I'm not sure if those who stay will want all your technology, but they should have a choice."


When the vortex of events slowed, Lars considered what he really wanted. "Lola, I'd like you to come back with me to the Science center at least for a while. I'm going to try to set things as straight as I can."


The smile across her face grew into a grin. Her expression made him look the other way with joy.


"I don't know how well I'll be received, but I can try to fit in."


Before they left, Grayson moved his seat to Lars'. He leaned forward and whispered. "You know, Lola will probably never tell you, but this was all her doing. She found the spaceport, came to the city for me and orchestrated the whole thing."


Lars only smiled.


***


Lars sat at his desk with the observatory shield open, their star framed by the windows' shape. Instruments purred in the background while Lola brushed her hair against her naked flesh. They'd been here nearly a season-cycle and been married almost as long. He'd never seen such a beautiful woman, certainly not the previous wives the council had made him endure for his own good. His only regret, that he would never be as much a husband to her as she'd been a wife to him.


She smiled at him, and he couldn't look away.


"Tomorrow, I'll be addressing the Assembly. I think the time has come. Please join me." He shuddered, having dreaded this for a long time.


"I'd be very proud to." She stood tall and self-assured.


In all his season-cycles, he could never have imagined the welcome he and his new wife had received, but the everyday citizens of the center had clearly spoken their minds every day since their return. Lars gritted his teeth.


***


Lola and Lars walked through the city, no seat or slave for his bride. Above them, like streaks of motion in the sky at every level but the surface, and in every direction imaginable, seats carried his fellow citizens to their every destination. As Lars went on, some would notice, as they always did. They'd slow and swoop to see this oddity first hand. At first, the taunts were distant but soon grew more personal and close. "Mutant! and "Savage!" and "Liar!" filled the air. Then the chants came again ... and again. Sometimes they rang out in unison. Lars had heard this all before, every day since returning from the farms. His heart grew heavy, as it always did in public. For the first time in their lives, the people of the cities had learned fear. They now knew the terror of change and had focused on this innocent woman. Why?


After a brief jaunt in a vertical transit shaft, he walked through the shimmering holo-curtains and steadily to the General Assembly forum table with Lola at his side.


The chamber, where he'd served ten season-cycles, and all the electorate, went silent, with only an echoing cough, then a seat bumping into the arched table beyond which everyone else sat.


Lars spoke, "This occasion brings me both joy and sadness. Thank you for your time. I am overjoyed by a chance to be here again, but this time, you see, I'm standing." He looked into the legislators' eyes and saw the same fear, but they had brought this on themselves.


Lars went on to remind them the story about those who lived in unimaginable poverty to feed the people in the cities. He mentioned the spaceport with more starships than this world had people.


The hush deepened.


"The sad story here today isn't so much that the ancients didn't tell us we could leave. I do know that thousands will choose to depart for whatever rests beyond the limits of our world. The real sadness in my heart has come from our people who regard my wife as half-a-person and not quite human, like all those on which we do so depend."


A noise moved along the table and through crowd of seats hovering beyond the assembly. The muttering, grumbling, hissing rumble grew angrier.


Lars inhaled and went on.


"I had planned to recommend that we allow a few of the outside people to leave to search and find what lies beyond our world." He swallowed. "Now, though, I've changed my mind. We don't deserve that they stay to feed and support us." He paused. "It is you that have changed my mind. It is your narrow-minded anger that has broken my heart. I am no longer one of you."


The crowd's volume grew and grew as seats raised and fists shook.


"I say let them go." Before the crowd went wild, he paused again. "Thank you."


Lars and Lola walked away from the jeers and hoots and never returned.


Walking out, Lars held up Lola's hand. "I don't expect I swayed anyone, today, but I'm sure I've set them thinking. It may take a while, but the seed I've planted will grow. Too many of them worked too closely with me to ignore my words. Eventually, things will change."



***


Isidora sat across from her pilot, helmsman Isogreg in the last ship departing Zinor.


"We're nearly there, Captain."


"The door should be directly ahead."


Nearly a season-cycle out from the spaceport, traveling under full thrust, Isidora was ready.


"It's coming into view on the holo." Isogreg pointed to the suspended image.


The great door in their metal world hung centered in the view. No further from their star then the place where she'd been born, Isidora shivered with excitement.


"Can you imagine the reaction of travelers aboard the first ships to leave when they found this opening on Zinor's opposite floor?" While she waited, the great gateway parted like a metal jaw with four opposing sets of teeth.


Vast expanses of starlight rained down upon them from outside the expanding door. She realized: the gap between intellect and understanding sometimes proved very large. In this case it stood gigantic as she began to grasp her world.


"Each one of those is a star like our sun?"


"They are not exactly the same." She stood, filled with excitement.


As they passed through, the apparent, flat, gray surface revealed itself to be a metal sphere. The door to the stars slipped shut, and as it did, she took her last glimpse of their sun vanishing behind it. Darkness took its place, and with no more than the light from the myriad of stars in the heavens around them, this metal world that contained her father's star could no longer be seen.


"I don't mean to pry, Captain, but with you parents as instrumental as they were to this exodus, don't you think they'd be proud of you."


"Oh, I don't know about that. Neither of my parents ever wanted to leave. All Father ever wanted was to live to see the end of our star. He always said that my birth was the most extraordinary thing either of them ever did."


"Oh." The helmsman grinned.


"I always got a laugh out of that, as well," she said.


Isidora thought of her parents. Both had passed in recent times and their memory sustained her as she left. She would never forget the story of how they met in the farming region outside their city, and in time changed their world forever.


She remembered their walks in the city. Father had always said that the only way to teach others was by example, and every day she could remember, they went out and walked the streets among the seats and angry people. Then, one day, the folk in seats finally quieted. In her heart, her parents' bridging the gap between the societies had been their greatest feat.


Isidora looked forward into the myriad of stars ahead, to her new future and worlds beyond her wildest dreams, and as Mother and Father had always told her, she knew that All had not built Zinor, but maybe she’d find who did.


The End


I'd love to hear what anyone thinks about how this method works.


Larry

A Boy and His Dog

I just watched A Boy and His Dog. I'd forgotten the ending. Nice.

Review of The Key by James N. Frey

Short Story Plots

While struggling with developing good plots for short stories, Ruve Draba suggested reading more James Frey. So I went through The Key with highlighters and sincere interest. When I finished, I have to say it was pretty good. The book is all about using the power of myth for plot development. I won't get into the details except to say it was thoughtful, comprehensive and helpful. The method requires quite a bit of structure and detail, and I'm not sure how you could use this in flash fiction, but I gave it my best shot for fixing an old short story that didn't have a storyline that made sense to anyone. So, here it is:


Ship of Slaves Carnival



Randy Martin looked around his empty waiting room. His was business dying, he owed people money and a hearing in two days would decide if he kept his license. Then, the holo buzzed. He answered, "Martin Investigative Services."


Just when he thought things couldn't get worse, his father's scowling image appeared, turned, looked down his nose and spoke. "Son, why don't you stop wasting your time and education and come work for me?"

Randy cringed. If he didn't need the work so badly, he wouldn't have answered the call. After ten minutes of his father's rant, Randy tightened his fists and exhaled. "I'm really busy this morning, Dad. Can we talk later, maybe over lunch in a few days? Call me. Got to go." He closed the connection and wiped his brow.

The holo buzzed again. This time he looked at the signal ID. His landlord. Randy answered.

"Good morning, Randy. I suppose you know I didn't receive my credit."

"I know. Business has been slow since the big stink about not revealing my source for the Desmond case, and I'm a little short." Randy waited for any response.

Finally: "Okay, I'll give you five more days before I petition for eviction. This isn't a charity, you know."

He knew. "Thanks for the time, Calvin. I appreciate it."

Just as the holo went dark, the waiting room door beeped, and he looked up at the office monitor.

A young woman, twenty-five max, entered. She wore a short skirt that ended more than a foot above her knees and a halter that she had to adjust to hold back its contents. Her shoulder length frizzy, blond hair made a perfect backdrop for her delicate, smiling face.

Randy poked his head into the room and smiled.

“Please come back into my office and have a seat.” He pointed to the couch across from his desk. The young thing entered, stood directly in front where Randy sat and adjusted her skirt.

“What can I do for you, miss?”

The woman's brown eyes looked down. “My name is Olga Stem, and I represent The Renowned Carnival of Everywhere. Are you familiar with us?”

Olga shook Randy’s hand and sat, placing her jacket next to her.

“I’m Randolph Martin,” he said. “I’ve been in this business for the last five years, and I guarantee my work. If you’re not satisfied, you don't pay. Your carnival is a cosmic menagerie, isn’t it?"

“Not exactly. We offer zoological gardens representing sentient beings in their natural habitat.”

“I think I read something about that. The aliens serve in the zoo under contract.”

“That’s right. We pay them, provide their transportation to Earth and do everything practical to create a legitimate, natural habitat.”

"What can I do for you, Ms. Stem? Why do you need a private investigator?”

Olga crossed her bare arms, took a deep sigh and leaned back. “We’ve lost one of our exhibits. The newest one, he’s left us--fled.”

“Tell me about your missing alien.” When Olga crossed her legs and readjusted her skirt, Randy had to catch his breath.

“Stangoné is a Mud Dweller from a distant system. He’s a little guy with a tail and cilia grippers instead of hands and feet. When my brother, Jonathan, our operations director, signed him, everything looked like it would go smoothly. The Dweller needed the money, and Jonathan provided him with a female companion as part of the package. The couple seemed to get along well. We wrote the contract for two years plus his star transit time, and he's been here six months.”

“Then what happened? Why did he leave?”

“I’m not sure. Jonathan thinks someone offered him a better deal, but his mate believes he's been abducted. I need him back here so he can finish his contract. Else, we'll have to find a replacement and that takes years.”

Randy looked at her again. She seemed sincere. "I’d need a thousand credits a day plus expenses. Can you afford me?”

“Not really,” Olga answered, “but Jon authorized me to hire you. We’ve never lost a delegate before, and this could ruin us. We spent a great deal of our financial resources advertising the exhibit, and now it’s gone.”

"I will need my money."

"Jonathan is making arrangements."

"Do you have any idea where I might find this Mud Dweller?"

"There's an old Vardiaan in the Australian Outback who's on Earth gathering exhibits there for his show in The Hub. It's an orbiting city above their home world, Vardiaa. That'd be my guess. He's a lowlife." Olga spent the next twenty minutes detailing her knowledge about the missing dweller, adjusting her halter and bringing perspiration to his forehead.

"Oh, the Outback. I really shouldn't leave the country. I have to appear in court in a few days. I really am sorry."

Olga stood and turned to his bookcase. "What's this?" She touched his old marksmanship trophy. "National Champion?"

"That was several years ago. I'll show you out."

He escorted her to the door where she shook his hand and stepped into a hover-bus. Returning, he flopped on the couch. Damn, he needed the work. With his forehead planted in his hands, he sighed.

That night his brother called, ranting and raving about his wife learning about the money Randy had borrowed. Allen needed it back now. Next day he found himself in a small restaurant, the Star Crossed Diner, sipping coffee across from Olga, again.

"I'll take the job. I changed my mind and maybe it'll be interesting. I will need to meet Stangoné's mate. I can get started right away, but I need to know more about these Dwellers.”

She smiled deeply, reached out and hugged him. "Thank you. I've heard so much about you; I didn't want to go to anyone else. I've been following you problems with the legal system." She blushed when she said she knew about the threats to have him jailed and his license removed, for protecting an informant. The softness in her eyes; was that kindness?

They sat, she spoke and he listened. He asked questions, and she answered. Finally he said, "Thanks. I'll call you if I need something more."

"I must warn you, though." Her expression turned grave. "Jae Basee is a dangerous man, a wild man of sorts. I've heard he's killed a lot of people. You must be careful."

Randy finished his coffee. "Olga, I'll be fine. I can take care of myself. No problem. I believe I can help you." Randy stood for a whole minute, before Olga looked up.

"Okay." She held out a credit slip, gave him a smile that would last him all day and then left.

Randy grabbed his hand-held computer, his coat and hat and boarded a hover-bus outside the restaurant's front door.

After enough time to browse a few holo-ads, he glimpsed the carnival as he landed. The alien reserve waited below, a large, wooded area bordered by the North American megalopolis. This place appeared a comfortable and inviting oasis in this world of steel, concrete and plastic. The transport dropped him at the gate where he paid to enter and walked toward the missing Mud Dweller exhibit.

Down a smooth, tiled trail with rails to limit access, Randy came to the first exhibit. Ghosts from the planet Medimos. One of the aliens sat in a chair on a grassy lawn in front of a modest dwelling. Randy couldn't quite focus his eyes on the fuzzy little guy who could separate himself into two identical parts, each occupying different time and space

He came to a second exhibit, the new one with the missing male. Mud Dwellers. Beneath the ground with a clear, overhead view through the roof, a series of tunnels in the mud rose to the top of the wet, brown surface. Inside, a lone female rested with her head face down in her palms. He called the house using the number Olga had given him. Minutes later the Dweller woman walked out of a doorway in the ceiling. She stood no taller than a child.

“My name is Randolph Martin, and I’m an investigator hired to find Mr. Stangoné. I hope you’ll help me?”

The little creature with a pretty, human face held up her--something where her hands should have been, but more like a fist of six-inch long wiggling noodles, or worms. He tried to shake her whatever, but she actually gripped his hand, and they shook. “I’m Ieason. Thanks for coming. How can I help you, Mr. Martin? If he doesn’t come back, they’ll close the exhibit and send me home. I need the money.”

“What happened to Stangoné? Where did he go?”

“I really don’t know. We were getting to know each other, and I thought the arrangement was working out. Then with no warning, he went out to swim in the mud and never came back.”

“That’s all?”

“He wasn't alone.” A small, lonely tear slipped down her face. "He walked away with a woman. The same human who was hanging on to that Vardiaan creep, Jae Basee, that approached when we arrived at the Alice Springs spaceport."

They spoke nearly an hour, going over everything she could think of, answering his questions. Randy shook her thing, shivered, thanked her for her time, smiled and left.

Two hours later, packed and ready, he sprinkled some fish food in their tank and said goodbye to his Blue Discus and Tin Foil Barbs. He'd be back tomorrow.
***

Randy's big mistake had been Harvard. If he hadn't gone, maybe chosen Minnesota or Kentucky, his father might not be pushing so hard, expecting so much. He wished. It felt like the world was crashing in around him. It just wasn't easy running a business when bad publicity was driving all the customers away. Even his mother had quit calling, no messages, nothing. If Mom had been herself, before her breakdown, she wouldn't have his father to treat him this way. But, his dad had shoved her out the door the same way he was pushing Randy toward becoming someone he wasn't.

Sitting in the sleek, individual seat, he studied his hand-held: police reports, personal information, traits, habits and general information regarding Basee and Vardiaans in general. The last three times he'd been seen had been near Alice Springs, and indeed, he'd been linked to a long list of killings. Then, an alarm announced their arrival.

Alice Springs. After three hours in a hypersonic transit tube, his body trembled with numbness from the ride. When he released himself from his restraint netting, he got out, he stepped up to the surface and steadied himself in the dry warm breeze. This guy he wanted to question was known to frequent lower class establishments, spend time in the streets and routinely set up public auditions for his show. Randy went into the streets to look for the sort of place where that kind of folk might gather. Then he saw a thirty-meter-tall holo, shimmering like the aurora borealis above the main street in the heart of town. Likely visible anywhere in the city, above thousands of rowdy, partying aliens, a series of words strung across the sky, first in Earthen, then other languages: Ship of Slaves Carnival auditions, tonight.

Randy arrived after a short turbo-ride. Pandemonium was the first word that came to mind. He remembered Olga's words: "The laws of each alien species applies in the Outback." The big holo overhead reminded him that slavery was still legal as hell on Vardiaa and consequently here as well. He'd also read that if a Vardiaan killed his own slave, it wasn't considered murder. Perhaps the reason no one had tried to charge him.

He pushed his way through Ghosts, Onionheads whose flesh molted as they walked, Ramasese, the winged blue-skinned born pregnant species that looked female but weren't, and others he couldn't identify. The blue maidens wore no clothing and looked sexy--but weren't. The crowds of these party animals flocked to beverage islands like ants around fallen sugar. His head spun from all the activity. He needed to find where the auditions were being held, so he worked his way to the nearest bar.

After a long wait, he placed both forearms across the counter, swallowed and looked the bartender in his palm-sized faceted eyes. Oh... The two-meter tall Scimenon looked down over his mandibles.

"Speak up or make room for someone else. I'm loosing money while you stand there with your head up your ass."

"A Heineken please."

The segmented insectoid with tri-pronged pincers handed him a brew with surprising grace.

"Thanks." Randy picked up his beer. "Where are they holding the auditions? I heard they might need humans."

"Not likely," the big guy answered. "There are still too many of your kind around here. Over there." The Scimenon pointed to a three-story structure less than a hundred meters away.

"Thanks." Randy pushed his way back through the crowd that filled the void he just left at the counter. Maybe this would be easier than he thought. He took no more than three steps away from the swarming mass of customers when someone gently gripped his upper arm. He turned.

"Hello, mister." A redhead, every bit as tall as Randy, looked him in the eyes. "I'm Naomi. You're looking for the Ship of Slaves?"

Randy nodded, not exactly wanting to advertise the fact.

"I know the main guy. We spent time together, sometimes."

I bet you do. Randy almost laughed, but he did follow the skinny, woman through the crowd. At least once, the masses shifted, sending a logjam of aliens right into him: some black and hulled, some small and some with such an obnoxious stench that he wanted to puke. He nearly stumbled back, but regained himself and moved on, the woman still by his side. Over the building entrance, a sign flashed "Ship of Slaves" in multiple languages.

She led him into a crowded atrium, wall-to-wall humanity, but he knew that wasn't the right word, not for a sea of aliens.

"Jae's office is on the top floor. If you want to meet him..."

Randy followed, through the pneumatic lift, a corridor and into a large room with humans. No--they were Vardiaan, seated behind large desks and a few thuggish looking men, also with pink eyes and pale faces, milling around. They looked like albino Earthens from the outside, but internally--all the differences in the world. Naomi spoke to one, turned around and pointed at Randy.

"Him!" She pointed at him like one kid blaming another.

Randy had been set up. Damn!

While Naomi went the other way, two men grabbed him by the arms and ushered him back through the door he'd just entered.

"What is wrong?" Randy tried to free his arms. "I haven't done anything." Both of them were stronger than him, and no matter how hard he pulled or pushed, he couldn't break free.

With silence as an answer, they carried him down the corridor toward a doorway and the end. Randy's heart began to race, and he had a very bad feeling about the rest of his day.

When both men let go, Randy turned, prepared to take advantage of whatever had saved him and the sight of Olga with a pistol the size of a small baseball bat aimed at both men floored him. He darted in her direction, but he could here footfalls coming fast behind him.

When her gun discharged, Randy glanced back. An area of floor the size of a pitcher's mound between him and the remaining man had vaporized. Olga dashed into the lift and two step later, Randy lunged in that direction as well.

About the time his head entered the passenger chamber where Olga waited, a laser burst, truncated by the closing door, cut a deep path through his leg. The lift dropped three floors before he recognized the growing pool of blood beneath him. A growing sensation of warmth and pain almost matched the anger in his heart. Loosing fluids like he was, he wouldn't make it long.

He looked up at Olga. He'd never be able to thank her enough for this. "Lock the door. I need a minute." He could hardly speak.

Randy took a deep breath, slipped off his belt and tied his leg above the wound. The horrible pain sent shivers through his body. Finally he made it to his feet and while Olga took him by the hand, he hobbled through the crowd.

An hour later, they'd come no closer to refuge. Against a building in plain view, he loosened and re-tightened his tourniquet. My God that hurt! A few more seconds to catch his breath, and they moved on.

Olga stopped and looked him square in the eyes. "You need a doctor."

He guessed she might have seen the tears in his eyes or the darkness of his leg. "I'm sure they're looking for us. We need to lay low. I have an idea."

Randy checked his hand-held and looked up. "There might be something up ahead, a block, maybe." Two blocks later they came to a storefront with an overhead holo: "Golden Paradise."

She gave him a dirty look as they entered the one place Randy thought no one would look. The pungent-sweet smell of ruined lives filled the air. He spoke to the little old woman who greeted them at the inner door. Cash credits for a room, a med-pack and some stuff. All the while, Olga's nails dug deeper into his hand.

When the entered their small room, both sat with backs against opposite walls and leaned against the tiny bed. "We should be safe here," he whispered while he released the deadly grip of his belt. Again, his blood flowed from his tingling, stinging half-numb leg. He opened the pack and wrapped it around the wound. Antibiotics, pain relievers, anticoagulants and tissue regeneration accelerators. Now, what he needed was rest.

Olga's anger must have subsided. "I followed you," she said, her voice barely loud enough for him to hear while the sweetish pungent scent of self-destruction crept into their room. The small lump of black tar he'd purchased to spend the night would still be in his pipe's bowl when the morning's next occupants arrived, but drew no one's gaze.

"You shouldn't have. This is a dangerous place."

She smirked. "And where would you be if I hadn't? And besides, I've come here frequently on business and had an appointment tonight, until I saw you and--that bitch."

"You know her."

"She came snooping around Stangoné's hotel room the night he arrived from the Dweller World."

Rand and Olga shared a few stories about themselves in the stench of burning opium from the other rooms. Finally the pain in his leg subsided, and he drifted off to sleep and ignored the hopeless humanity and alienity around him. He pitied them.

Morning arrived with a headache...and Olga's smile. Raised his finger to his mouth to shush her as she helped him to his feet. His leg, stiff but better, supported his weight. They moved out of the den, him limping and her, a bright spot in a sea of darkness.

You didn't have to go far in Alice Springs to find what you wanted. You just needed credits. Randy's head throbbed like he thought his leg should have as he entered the dark cellar store.

"Good morning." The tallish Onionhead, bald except for a single lock of long auburn frizz that dropped to mid-tunic, looked down. "I don't get many Earthen customers."

Randy smiled and showed his hand-held to the proprietor. The list he'd made last night: transit scooter, laser pistol, defensive vests, a rifle with sabot rounds, maintenance worker uniforms and information. "Andrew's Place." This shop sold everything. "I need both equipment and information if you can help me." While he spoke, he felt Olga's hand holding the back of his arm.

The vendor examined the list, rubbed his chin and turned back. "This will be expensive, especially the information."

"I have a rich friend."

Just after he felt Olga's fist poke him in the ribs, a clump of molting flesh fell from the vendor's forehead and landed on the floor. Randy suppressed the impulse to gag.

Nearly two hours later, Randy and Olga donned their new attire, left the shop, loaded the scooter and reviewed the information. A little nervous but determined, he throttled the drives and guided the sparkling, new Jetstream manually into the Alice Springs morning with Olga seated behind him with her hands around his waist.

The tower where he expected to find Jae rose against the horizon during their approach. Five stories tall, surrounded by a sea of concrete at its base, it stood alone, the only interruption of arid terrain in sight. He parked, stowed his helmet and turned to Olga.

"I wish you let me go in there with you. I'm a big girl, you know."

"No. I need to do this alone. Pick me up on my signal." Both synchronized the settings on their hand-helds. He watched her slip into the sky on the scooter and then turned to the building.

Randy checked in at the worker's entrance using his fake ID and worked his way toward the basement. He'd done this before. If you knew what you were doing and looked like you belonged there, you had a chance.

Working his way upward, he measured the airflow in the ducts on the third floor and found an access door to a crawlspace where he could work without uninvited eyes. He clogged the ventilation ductwork leading to the building's top level with a self-inflating balloon and stopped. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he re-entered the service hall.

He hadn't noticed his heart racing, but it was. Then a passing suit spoke.

"Morning, son. You new here?"

The Vardiaan's voice seemed more curious than alarmed.

"First day, sir. Just conducting airflow inspections. Once a year whether it needs it or not."

"You work for Lastima?"

"No, sir. I'm an outside contractor for Advance Environmental. I just came in on a scooter."

The suit nodded and walked on.

After ending the flow of cool air to building's top floor, Randy called Olga and worked his way toward the service entrance. Outside, under blue-white Outback skies, Olga sat on the back of the scooter, waiting. Her smile could light up a cave.

Randy stowed his gear and both zipped off toward Alice Springs and some coffee. They sat in a somewhat clean shop, sipped java and waited until the summer temperatures had enough time to make Jae's office unbearable.

"I passed by the holding cells on the third floor. My service pass opens the main door there. The place was teeming with slaves inside individual cages. I didn't see any guards but there were lots of holo-cameras."

Olga placed her hands on the back of his, which were face down on the table. "You worry me."

"Trust me. I'll be fine."

When Randy decided that they had waited long enough, they returned, she dropped him off and he went back inside.

The back entrance receptionist looked up. "You here again?"

"I won't be long. I just got called back."

Randy climbed into the turbo, and with a whoosh that pulled at his stomach he entered the top floor. His service pass opened the door into the VIP area and he walked into the master offices where the temperature was stifling and wet. He strode like he owned the place, past working office folk and a variety of aliens that seemed unusual even for the Outback.

A receptionist sat at a desk guarding a large office.

"The climate system is out up here?" He smiled. At thirty-three degrees C, they were miserable or already dead.

"Go right on in." She pointed to an aisle behind her desk. No guards, no thugs and no one had paid any attention to his brown eyes. He drew his pistol as he entered and held it behind his leg.

A man--no a Vardiaan sat behind a polished desk the size of most hover buses. Randy recognized Jae, who stood. In spite of his more dignified Extranet images, the pink-eyed executive with receding hair and thick black mustache still gave the impression of a thug. His crumpled white shirt, jeans, leather vest and bandanna clearly defined his personae.

"I need to work in here a few minutes and I think I can get this fixed. The main duct-way runs behind this office."

According to plan, Jae walked toward the entrance and Randy raised the pistol. "Stop, or I will shoot."

"What are you doing?" The Vardiaan glared.

"You have a Dweller on the second floor. I'm taking him back. I need the pass-key to your holding cells."

"And I'm going to let him go with you?"

"I'll leave with him and you can go on about your business. You haven't broken any laws here...yet, but murdering a human is illegal even in the Outback. Give me the pass." With the comm-system shut down for the top floor and the VIP turbo disabled, these aliens were isolated. The only way in or out was this floor's service door.

Jae placed the key on a table and moved away.

"If this works, I'll call your security and send someone up to let you out. Otherwise, we'll see how long you last with the temperature in here gets worse than outside."

"The key works."

Randy grabbed it, but something hit him hard on the back of the head. Stars swam in his mind while Naomi moved between him and Jae.

"I came to tell you, Jae, that the human might be back, but I see you know."

Randy raised his pistol again and Jae came right at him. The last thing he wanted to do was shoot an unarmed person in his own office. Before Jae reached him, the woman jumped him. The pistol fired, Naomi dropped and Randy fled for the service door, pulled it shut and leaned against the other side. Jae's grimacing face looked back through the clear, ceramic-steel window as the sound of his fists pounding against the door, echoed through the service hall.

Randy ran down two flights of emergency stairs and used the service key to enter the third floor holding area. A circular hallway surrounded hundreds of locked cells, and each step brought new aliens into view. Angry anxious creatures of all forms shouted and shook their fists and claws and finally a whatnot at him. The Mud Dweller.

"Stangoné?"

"In person," the little guy answered. "Jonathan sent you?"

"Olga." Randy place Jae's key into the slot. It opened, and he exhaled. "Let's go."

Randy and the Mud Dweller ran to the service hallway, jumped into the turbo and exited at the main floor. No guards, in fact no one, the place seemed empty. Thank God.

Ten minutes later, he rode off into the sky with Olga and the Dweller on the seats behind him. He rented a room with local credits, and while sitting on the floor, with his arms around Olga who sat with her back against his chest, the three planned the last leg of their escape till dawn. No one came.

Next morning, the three ate breakfast at the local pub and then headed for the hypersonic transit. Randy parked as near the tube entrance as he could and they walked toward the main station.

"I never thought I'd get back to the Carnival, or anywhere else on this world," Stangoné said.

"You have Olga to thank." Randy looked around them as he walked. "She could have chosen to replace you."

Olga remained quiet; perhaps the ordeal of the last two days had drained her. "You, milady are the hero of the day. Those thugs would have killed me if you hadn't stopped them." She was still one of the best lookers he'd ever seen, but what he liked was her loyalty and humanity. She cared about people and made him feel good.

With all the heavy equipment sold back to the dealer who would pick the scooter up later that day, they traveled light. Now, a modest sense of euphoria crept back inside him, pushing away the frustration of recent events. He even smiled.

The brilliant sky shone through ahead, an opening for hover-bus landings and fresh air without the effervescence of steaming oil and heavy CO2.

A flash of light announced laser fire and the warmth that spread across his chest. He looked at the others who seemed to be okay. Randy' heart began to pound, and two more flashes turned his chest hot as fire. He looked up; they were only shooting at him, but a head shot would kill any of them.

Jae and two armed thugs dropped from above wearing turbo packs.

"Get back!" Randy pushed his arms out before he dove for the cover of a parked bus. With his armor still burning his chest, he aimed the pistol he had planned to surrender at security and fired three times. Jae's body slumped and turbo pack slammed him head-first into an adjacent building at a hundred klicks an hour, exploding into a ball of plasma. The others fled.

A hollow feeling crept over him. He'd never shot anyone before, and today's events would likely stay with him as long as he lived. Contrary to popular belief, Alice Springs did have police. They arrived minutes later and cordoned off the area. They confiscated everyone's armor and weapons, checked everyone's identity and ushered them to their own private holding area, away from the other prisoners.

Initially it looked as though they be released, but someone had complained from Jae's desert tower and by the time the investigation had finished, Randy and Olga had gotten to know each other and six days had passed.

Randy returned home to good and bad. First and foremost, he and Olga had begun seeing each other. Perhaps the events of the last few days had caused them to bond. That was good, because now he had lost his license. That hearing he had needed to attend had gone on without him...at his expense.

He would never work for his father, but perhaps he'd use this experience to push him into some new direction. If his dad could build an Extranet empire in just five years, Randy could surely do something with his life. He knew he could. So, all in all he'd had better days, but he'd had worse ones as well.