

a planet in the middle of nowhere

book 1

the World of Hope

(part one)

by DRK

(c) 2010, 2011 by DRK

Smashwords edition

This one's dedicated to the one I love- no, not myself! My wife!

Elizabeth Punsalan Acosta Kuntz

foreword

During a lengthy lay-off, I made a blog-serial (which no one noticed)- a planet in the middle of nowhere- its address is aplanetinthemiddleofnowhere.blogspot.com. I wrote and posted, the story of the World of Hope on my blog. However, since I didn't always have access to a computer or the internet, I finished the story by hand and never posted the end on my blog. Now I am tweaking it and polishing it (I hope), making it more consistent. You can find updates on my progress for the rest of the story on my old blog.

Note, in some places on the blog I failed to change the name from Oasis City to Sparkle City. I searched on the net and found a book already called Oasis. It had been written as a serial blog at storyhack.com by Bryce Beattie. (It's a good story- I also read that during my lay-off. Check it out.) Also on his website, besides the story and its sequel, were several articles on writing and links, which, one thing led to another, and I decided to make my blog into a series of ebooks.

Also, please note, in the story (part two) part of the plot deals with folks unhappy with their leader, so they wish to draw attention to that fact with protests. I wrote this before the so-called Arab Spring, and I want to say I don't necessarily support such violent protests or violent revolution. Indeed, at the time, I had more in mind the work of Nelson Mandela or Lech Walesa.

And now, on with the story-!

What Already Happened

The day that the "Dreamer" woke up, November 21, 1963, has long been celebrated by certain idealists of Earth for its significance in changing a man who then changed the world.

Dr. Simon Somnum had been a theorist pondering the possibility of alternate timelines. He had wondered if, when a person was faced with a choice, did that person indeed choose one thing, with the resultant consequences, but also, did that same person also choose something else, resulting in another set of consequences, thus creating a different timeline simultaneously with each choice that was faced, because, indeed, the man actually made both choices at the same time!.

November 21, 1963, was the day Dr. Somnum was to give a lecture on that very subject at a prestigious university in Texas. However, things turned out differently than what he had planned, because, after he had developed car trouble a few blocks away from the place of his scheduled speech, he managed to contact a service garage to fetch his car within the hour, and then he began that fateful walk the last few streets to the university, hoping to make his destination and be on time, or at least as close to being on time as possible.

And then the old woman carrying a paper bag full of groceries stumbled before him, spilling her fresh produce all over the pavement. Dr. Somnum briefly considered pretending he didn't see her and just continuing on, since he was running late already. He dismissed that thought and turned back to help her gather her things. As he did so, that was when the life-changing event happened.

Twenty feet down the path he would have been hurrying along, had he not stopped to help the woman, was where it all happened. A heavy oversized piano, of all things, being hoisted by a crane to the penthouse atop the nearby apartment building, suddenly snapped the cable holding it in midair. It plummeted to the concrete below, smashing with a discordant thwang, knocking a deep hole, practically a crater, into the walkway.

The doctor caught his breath. "I- I should have been at that very spot, where the piano fell! Why, if I hadn't stopped to help you gather your groceries, ma'm--" He involuntarily shook from a chill running down his spine.

Dr. Somnum decided then and there to change his speech. Such a close brush with death changes a man's perspective about what's important.

Dr. Somnum preached that day how he realized alternate timelines were logically impossible, and even if they were not, so what? What good could come from wasting one's time pursuing such intellectual entertainment? Would that bring peace to the Earth? He spoke how he had stopped to help the lady, not out of choice, but because he in fact had no choice. That was who he was. He disbelieved in freewill, dismissing it as a mere fantasy. So much for being able to make different choices leading to different timelines. And if there were freewill, how could a man make all possible choices by making each choice in a separating universe? Then where would be the freewill anyway, or the responsibility for exercising such freewill, if all possible choices are made at the same time, anyway? How could that be? No, it made more sense to accept man was a mere animal, a clever one at that, admittedly, but one that merely reacted to stimuli reflexively.

This new direction in his thinking made him consider the varied and diverse ways of thinking throughout the world by different peoples and cultures. He concluded that this diversity of ways of thinking caused uncountable problems for humanity, each individual and each group pulling in so many different directions at once for different goals, making harmonization and world peace impossible. The solution must be to channel these diverse ways of thinking into a single pathway, a uniform understanding of what was best for the collective whole of the race. Unity in diversity. Worldwide.

Excitedly, he tried to stop the President of the United States the next day, as his motorcade made its way through Dallas. He wanted to share with the national leader his vision of how to achieve world peace. Instead, he got himself tossed in jail for disrupting the President's entourage. The Secret Service, spooked by the matter, redirected the President's route.

Later that day, the President actually went to visit Dr. Somnum in lockup, to find out what his interruption was all about. He had heard of the doctor, and now he wanted to hear what the doctor himself had to say. The President frowned on the Dreamer's ideas. "Sounds like Communism to me!" However, he realized Dr. Somnum meant no harm, and so arranged for his release. One thing he had to agree with the well-intentioned doctor about, however, was that there must only be one universe, so make the best of the one they had.

Frustrated because the leader of the country paid his ideas little mind, Dr. Somnum decided to share his views with other leaders of the whole world, and their peoples. The world needed to wake up! He would wake them! He would share his dream with them!

Over the years, more and more influential people picked up his viewpoint. Many world leaders liked to hear what he had to say. He could not have reached so many with his message, had it not been for many wealthy people sponsoring his efforts. His dream became a global movement.

Of course, not everyone shared his vision, which took on a push for a world government body, to direct planned regional blocs of nations and countries toward a universal good for all. "What of checks and balances between different nations?" some of the throwbacks fretted. ""Why give up our right to self-rule our own neighborhood to some bureaucrat who lives on the other side of the world?" Rather than try to explain anything to those kind of people, who seemed incapable of understanding anyway, the leaders of the movement simply ignored them. The press and tv news stations were very helpful in that way of dealing with those opposing Dr. Somnum's ideas, because they seldom covered any of the dissent and awareness rallies.

The world became smaller as the countries formed into zones and started to work on co-operating with each other. Communication systems grew, thanks to advances in technology, so it became a small matter for a man in Asia to call his brother in North America. And travel increased as well, folks going here and there, to and fro, making it easier for the man in Asia to actually visit his brother in North America. As the trend towards globalization grew and grew, everything seemed to be working out, fulfilling Dr. Somnum's wonderful dream. At first, anyway.

It didn't take long for many to realize there were two kinds of countries and zones in the world- the haves and the have-nots. Despite all the advances and co-operation, it became apparent to many that not everyone enjoyed the same benefits and prosperity these regional zones were supposed to provide. The have-nots discovered the haves were not as willing to share as the have-nots had expected.

Dr. Somnum saw that the globalization process, rather than reducing tensions and fears of wars, had the opposite effect. And the shortages from disasters in the 80's and 90's added kindling to the smoldering situation. To make matters worse, Dr. Somnum finally realized, not all his wealthy sponsors helped him out of a sense of altruism. Only too late, much too late, did he realize that they wanted to find new people to exploit, or to gain positions of power so that they could help run the world, so that they could be the elite running things the way they desired. And, of course, for their efforts, the elite would be compensated accordingly, or so those deceivers had expected it to be.

Dr. Somnum became ill, watching his dream become a nightmare. His aging body suffered failing health. The doctor fell into a deep depression because of the mess of the world his message had caused.

A well-known evangelist visited his bed of sickness. He did his best to explain to Dr. Somnum the reason his plan could not work. He told him of the Four Spiritual Laws of life, and of the sin-factor each person had inherited from fallen Adam. Until sin, the fly in the ointment, was removed, humanity could never achieve a paradise.

Dr. Somnum rejected the idea of sin. Being a secularist, he considered man an animal, he told the evangelist. Man needed to be trained, tamed the right way, and Somnum's dream could still become a reality. Dr. Somnum just couldn't figure out how. But- the doctor was very vocal about his next assertion- religion couldn't solve the problem. No, that is what helped to make the problem, since so many different religions helped divide the world. What the world needed, Dr. Somnum reasoned, was a unified religion. Yes, maybe in that way, religion actually could solve the situation. After all, one religion was as good as another, so why not just blend them all together...

The evangelist pointed out, all religions cannot be right, since they contradict each other. Either there was none right, or only one. The evangelist said, only in one religion did its founder rise from the dead. History suggested the resurrection narrative's authenticity, if one only carefully considered. The evangelist further went on to say that Dr. Somnum had not really "awoken" on that fateful day in 1963, or he would not equate all religions as the same. He said the doctor still slept, but did not know it, and that it was time for him to truly wake up.

No, Dr. Somnum insisted, his dream could work, and he would one day find a way to make it work! Dr. Somnum died a year later, a very disappointed man, as the world teetered on the brink of chaos, each wanting what the other refused to give, and many actually needing more than the available resources could provide.

The international space station, the Peace Lab, was launched with much fanfare, in the hopes that the crew could find answers to the world's needs. It had been put into orbit, away from the world, where controversial experiments could be conducted with the understanding that, if the experiments produced cataclysmic results, at least the Earth should not be contaminated and harmed from the failed testings. But what solved much of the problem was the Peace Lab's tragic accident, which opened the wormhole to some distant, uncharted galaxy, to a planet in the middle of nowhere.

That new world provided new hope for the people of Earth- if only someone could be found to keep order there while the world developed into a colony serving the Earth, a colony that would deliver fuel ore and ample hybrid foods grown on the farms on the new world. The Earth leaders looked for someone to make the planet in the middle of nowhere into the World of Hope, a new hope for humanity, and thus make possible Dr. Somnum's dream, after all.

The Earth Leaders had found such a man- Xavier Bright! He would work with Earth and help them by governing this new land in such a way as to make the colony productive and fruitful. He would send the bountiful prosperity to those struggling on his homeworld . At first, the Leaders delighted in their selection for the position of governor for that world, and for all the goodness which he had attained for Earth by his governing the World of Hope. What a good choice! That was what they thought at first...

Full of Hope

Xavier Bright stepped out past the well polished brass door of the Governor's House, a modest mansion of what appeared to be marble and much expensive wood, a dwelling befitting his position, although not quite as much as his office truly deserved. Well, times were indeed tough on this tiny world, so he had to settle for a mere twenty-room dwelling. The sacrifices he had to make-

Gov. Bright felt the top of his head, to be sure his hair was not messed up. Of course it wasn't, but sometimes it pays to double-check these things. Even though some would classify him middle-aged, he still had all his hair, and not a one had yet turned grey. His physique lied about his age, too, as though he were still in his young prime.

The morning sun promised another beautiful day ahead. As usual, the governor expected little free time to actually enjoy it in the Morning Garden just across the lawn to his left.

Security Leader Tretl Clyden, Gov. Bright's junior by a decade, stood by his side. "I know what you're thinking, Gov. Xavier. All these gardens and landscaping in your yard, but no time to spend relaxing, to appreciate the governor's estate. Well, you know what I think-"

"Yes, I do, Security Leader Clyden; just because I may not have time to sit in the gardens does not mean that I cannot appreciate their beauty as I pass by. I like to surround myself with things which are aesthetically pleasing. Furthermore, even if I were unable to see them in passing, I still enjoy merely knowing they are here. You, Sec. Ldr. Clyden, are a Philistine."

Security Agent Samm brought the limousine down the driveway and stopped in front of the governor and Sec. Ldr. Clyden. The uniformed Agent Samm got out the limo to open the back door for Gov. Bright, but B-12, one of the two robots accompanying Gov. Bright, beat Samm to the door. The five-foot tall metal and plastic biped machine held open the car door, waiting, pleased to be able to serve.

Gov. Bright made no move to enter the limo. He remained standing on the official governor's welcome mat, breathing in the air. "The Enviro-Gens are doing an excellent job today, I see. Sec. Ldr. Clyden, please tuck in your shirt. I suppose I should be glad you at least put on your uniform today."

Suddenly, from behind a nearby row of hedges, a desperate-looking man jumped out, the blaster in his shaking hand trained on Gov. Bright. He bellowed, "Where's my brother?! Did you put him in the mines? You can't do that to my brother! I- I'll kill you for that, Leader Bright!"

"It is only Governor Bright. I govern for the Leaders of Earth. I am not a Leader. Not yet, but give it time."

"I don't think you will live long enough for that to happen," said the other. His hand still trembled with anxious excitement as he tried to do the deed, while Gov. Bright remained cool, not even batting an eye.

Gov. Bright did, however, raise an eyebrow, staring at the shaking weapon held by the man. "Now wherever did you get a blaster? I doubt you have the proper permits."

Clyden stepped between the governor and the intense citizen. "Listen, son, you don't want to do anything foolish-"

"M-move out of the way! I- I don't want to hurt you, Sec. Ldr. Clyden, only the governor!"

Clyden shook his head. "You know I can't let you do that."

From behind, Agent Samm clubbed the trespasser with his own Security Agent blaster. The man swooned and Clyden leaped to him, easily pulling the contraband gun from his grasp. The man fell to his knees, holding onto his head, moaning.

Xavier Bright checked his watch. "If we are going to have so many interruptions today, I am not sure we can make it to the rocketport on time."

As Sec. Ldr. Clyden cuffed the man, he scolded his superior. "I told you we need more guards about the grounds. And see, this is exactly why I tell you we shouldn't have so many bushes and trees about, providing so many places for would-be assassins to hide behind."

"What? Ruin the landscaping and the view because of a nobody like this?" scoffed Gov. Bright. "We already have enough Security Agents moving about the grounds. Besides that, Sec. Ldr. Clyden, the Security Agency building is just over that rise over there, abutting the estate. No, I don't think we need more. I trust you and your agents can get the job done just fine with the setup we already have here."

"Yes, sir," Clyden grumbled.

The governor turned to the scared but glaring interloper. "Good news. You will be able to once more be with your brother- at the mines."

Clyden pulled the man to his feet and shoved him forward. "Okay, let's get moving, bud. This way. March!"

Xavier Bright gestured with his hand for Clyden to stop. "Where, may I ask, are you taking this man?"

"To the lock-up at the Security Building, of course."

Gov. Bright frowned. "Sec. Ldr. Clyden, we really should be leaving by now for the rocketport. Why don't you just, oh, ah, just tie him to that tree there and call for one of your agents to come fetch him- Speaking of your agents, why is it that no others have yet come to see what this disturbance is about?"

Clyden reminded, "Like I said, we need more guards patrolling-"

Impatient, Gov. Bright said, as he walked toward the limo and got inside, "So you say."

B-12, who had been patiently waiting all this time, holding open the door, now closed it for the governor. B-12 went to the back of the car and climbed into the trunk of the limo. The other robot, a shorter model, held open the door on the other side of the limo for Clyden, who entered after tying the man to a thin but sturdy oak tree with the man's own belt and then calling for one of his agents to take care of the man.

Gov. Bright told Agent Samm, who sat behind the steering wheel, "Thank you for your help, Mr. Samm. Yours, too, Sec. Ldr. Clyden, of course. Now drive, please, Agent Samm, to the rocketport. We are going to meet some VIP's from Earth." He said "VIP's" with lots of sarcasm.

Clyden noticed someone missing. "I thought Sheila was coming with."

"Oh, she's shopping," Gov. Bright explained as Samm pulled from the driveway. "She has her truck. She said she will meet us there."

Clyden rolled his eyes. "I hope she will show up- and on time, too. You know how unreliable she is."

Unconcerned, the other answered, "Oh, she will. She won't let down her Uncle Xavier. She knows how important it is for me that she be there. And not just for me, but for the whole World of Hope. If all goes well, it could lead to a much better future for us."

"And if things don't go the way you plan, Gov. Xavier?"

Xavier Bright chuckled. Confidently, he assured his security leader, "Oh, they will. I know how to attain what I want. That is why I have been so successful as governor of the World of Hope."

Lift-Off!

Mr. and Mrs. McCleer boarded the Space Dart, a short space ship lying on its belly on the launching pad. George carried his own bag as well as his wife Nina's while she checked the row numbers looking for their seats. On these short trip rockets there was no such thing as first class, business, or regular coach. All seats were equally uncomfortable in the small cabin. "There, George, I found 'em!"

She hurried to the seats, her greying husband following right behind, struggling with both their bags, trying not to bop with a cumbersome bag any passenger's head. While he loaded their carry-ons into the overhead compartment, Nina confided in a whisper, "George, I'm still a little uneasy about this flying through a wormhole stuff."

He sat beside her and took her hand. "Hon, you know flying is safe."

"And you know very well that's not what bothers me," she answered in a scolding tone. "I don't trust going into a wormhole to get to the World of Hope. Sparkle City should be all it's cracked up to be, to compensate me for all this anxiety."

George gave her hand a small pat. "It's just the newness of the thing, you know. After all, at first people were afraid to travel by ship and later by car and by plane. I bet our forefathers at one time were even afraid of traveling on horses."

"Yeah, but in a way they, too, were justified. Look at all the travel accidents that have happened throughout history."

Rather than argue logically, George just kissed her. Sometimes that assured her more than all the reasoning his mind could produce. Nina seemed to relax some. "It'll be nice to see my old friend Xavier again. Oh, I mean Gov. Bright. You aren't worried about me seeing him again after all these years, are you?"

"No, not at all. Should I be?"

She chuckled. "Of course not. It's as you say, since I am with the best, I forgot about the rest."

George admitted, "I do have some concern, however, about Xavier. I hear he's getting more narcissistic these days. Who would've supposed that to be even possible? What if I have to give a bad report about him back to Earth, and I recommend they replace him? How will he take that, I wonder."

Somebody calling loudly for some booze from the back rows distracted George from his worries. He and Nina turned to see who wanted to be the center of attention. A young man had just found his assigned chair and sat in it. He had some traveling companions with him- or at least they all appeared to be part of the same group of young adults. The young man with a noisy mouth demanded a drink- "Bourbon, preferably."

George and Nina turned away from watching the gang of youths, with George shaking his head. "That guy looks familiar. Is that who I think it is?"

"Yes, dear, that's Osmo Martin, the big jerk who is always in the news for his antics, heir of Martinology. Because his father is a rich and influential man, he leads a somewhat carefree lifestyle. You'd think, however, considering where we are going, he'd be on better behavior, out of respect for his mother's memory."

"You'd think that," agreed George. "I sometimes cross paths as the Steering Committee's cost and systems analyst with Gunther Martin. He seems okay, but his son-"

"I guess he's going our way, to get away from Earth and wait for the heat to die down after his last news-making event. It was also in the news for awhile that he had an open invitation from Xavier himself to vacation on the World of Hope."

"Just our luck- He takes up Xavier on the offer and is on the same flight we are! I personally think he should've been tossed in jail for a bit to teach him a lesson."

"Now, dear," Nina chided, "anyone can accidentally burn down a house. Had it not been one owned by Leader Bigges, he probably would be in a cell right now, in fact. But Leader Bigges and Mr. Martin are something like friends, since Martinology managed to save Bigges' life years ago. So Bigges looked the other way, but was still plenty mad enough so that Osmo decided to leave for awhile. A wise move on his part, I'm sure."

Gazelle, the head stewardess, hurried over to the yammering Osmo Martin. "Is there something I can get for you, Mr. Martin? Something besides matches, I mean."

"Haha, funny. I would like a stiff shot, if you please, my good lady," he asked. "And be quick about it. I am thirsty."

I'd like to give you a stiff shot to your face, you jackass, Gazelle thought silently. No way I am giving booze to a jerk like you. Smiling sweetly, she offered, "I can get you a nice ginger ale. It's not our policy to serve alcohol to young people."

"Wha-aat?" Osmo gasped, feigning confusion. "You know, the governor of the World of Hope specifically invited me and my friends to come to Sparkle City to relax after all our grueling years of toil at school. He even paid my fare and the fares of my friends! How can I relax if you don't get me a drink?"

Gazelle nodded. "I read about how grueling your days of schooling were. All those parties you had to attend must have been draining for you. No booze on this flight for you, period."

Osmo now found it a battle of wills. "You do know who my father is, right? And the governor of Hope wants to be my friend, too. Like I said, he invited us. Right, Al? Tell her I'm right."

Albert told his pal, "Osmo, you know we were invited mostly as a PR move, with an aim to get Hope in the limelight and increase tourism. You know the governor's not really interested in being friends. He's too busy running the planet. Try not to give the lady a hard time."

Jane, holding onto Albert's arm, rolled up her eyes over Osmo's antics. "I hope you won't act like this all the time we are on vacation, Osmo. I only came along because Albert came. You will behave, okay?"

Another young woman spoke up from a nearby chair. "Hey, you leave Osmo alone. He just wants to have a drink. What's wrong with that?"

Jane turned to Mita. "Hi, Mita. It sure is coincidental that you happened to also be planning a vacation to the World of Hope and then took the same flight that Osmo is taking."

"So, what about it, Jane? Coincidences happen all the time."

Jane talked in lower tones. "Mita, don't waste your time chasing this Osmo. We are out of school now. Get over him. Look at all the other handsome men around you who like you. Osmo can barely take his eyes off himself; how is he going to see you?"

Mita's cheeks flushed. "He will, one day. He will notice and appreciate me eventually. It's only a matter of time. So mind your own business. If I want advice, I'll call my grandfather."

Gazelle brought Osmo a Coke without the rum and checked on other arrivals.

When everybody was seated, she went to the front of the passenger cabin, and four other flight attendants also took their places, each choosing one of the four corners of the cabin, to make sure everybody could see the safety demonstrations they were about to perform to prepare the passengers in case there was an emergency. Gazelle gave the standard safety speech and showed what to do with the seat cushion and how to convert it into an oxygen mask.

Capt. Shatner's voice interrupted them, announcing over the PA speakers that in ten minutes the Dart would blast-off, and "so please buckle up. Be prepared for some uncomfortable g-force. Our floor gravity automatically activates and reduces the effects, but until the rumored g-force dampers are perfected and made standard equipment, all space travelers must still experience the mild unpleasantness."

The stewardesses secured all their things and did a final check before strapping themselves in ahead of the final minute. The screen on the wall in front displayed giant numbers as the countdown for the last ten seconds began. A giant ten, a giant nine... Osmo counted aloud with the screen's display. "...8...7...6..." Soon, the rest of the passengers joined in, counting down to zero.

"Lift-off!" Capt. Shatner shouted over the speakers from the cockpit, and the mighty engines of the Space Dart roared to life. The space ship zoomed forward on its launch pad, and its fins caught the air, lifting it into an upright position. In the next moment, it shot almost straight up, the g-forces making one and all grunt, even the flight attendants, who should have been used to it by this time (as if one could get used to such a thing). Up, up the Space Dart soared, past the clouds, past the atmosphere... and into outer space.

"Wow, I sure could use some booze right now," Osmo called out.

In a few moments the rocket adjusted course and headed toward the blinking blue light in the distance. It resembled a blinking star. Through some trick of using the gravity of the wormhole, satellites were set up to orbit the mouth of the wormhole, marking its place with the flashing signal. A few security ships patrolled nearby, clearing Capt. Shatner for passage. When the Dart got closer and closer, the screen in the flight cabin focused its view on what lay ahead of the ship. Folks also craned to see out the portholes where they sat, still belted in their chairs. A colossal hole in the blackness of space yawned in front of them, directly in their flight path. It was huge. No stars were visible behind it. The opening of the hole in the void of space stretched a football field's length in diameter.

Nina gripped George's hand tighter and tighter the nearer they got to the mouth of the wormhole. The kiss must have worn off. George, too, gripped back a little harder than comfortable. A silence filled the ship, except for the thrusters that pushed the Dart over the threshold and into the tunnel. Even Osmo became quiet.

Good, finally, thought Gazelle in her seat. That always shuts them up.

The Tunnel

The Space Dart flew into the wormhole, and then, suddenly, the enormous entrance through which they had just come became a tiny speck, as shown on the left half of the screen's split shot. The right half still showed what lay before them, and the left now displayed a view as seen behind the rocket. That tiny speck was soon lost in the distance, and then it disappeared completely from sight. At the same time, the blackness in the tunnel unexpectedly (unless one had gone through the wormhole before) vanished, replaced with brilliant wild flashes and screaming colors as sparks and streaks twisted around the ship, creating indescribable patterns and sights. One of the tourists had the presence of mind to take out his cam and try to record the amazing display.

Capt. Shatner's voice came over the speakers again as he tried to explain what they were all seeing. "Our space inside the Dart seems normal, but as we travel along the wormhole, the wormhole itself is a shortcut through space. It cuts through thousands of light years, crossing galaxies and making the distance relatively short for us. What we see is space, the stars and planets and galaxies, all distorted as we pass by at incredible speeds inside this wormhole. If you were someone outside the wormhole, and able to see us, you would see the Space Dart as the warped object, and not the space and stars in normal space, which we in here see as twisted all out of shape. Of course the Dart would go by the observer so fast, there's no way anyone could really see us from outside the wormhole. We are faster than the speed of light. Inside the wormhole, I mean. But we still can view the stars outside the wormhole as we fly past them, and their after-effect, so this is what we are seeing."

"Fascinating," Nina told George. "Terrifying, but wonderful. I'm glad I came and didn't miss the light show."

"It is stunning," agreed George. "I don't understand how we can see anything, since we are faster than light, but the big brains might be able to figure it out. I have to talk to one of them when we land, and see if anybody can explain it in easy terms for me to understand."

After ten minutes or so, the passengers' excitement began to fade, their awe somewhat in check once they got used to the display. Once more Osmo hassled Gazelle. "Hey, what am I seeing out there in the tunnel? You didn't spike my Coke, did you?" And several people asked for stomach tonics.

From her seat nearby Osmo, Mita said, "Osmo, it's an honor to visit the World of Hope, which is named after your mom, and a tribute to her courage." She imagined if she might engage him in conversation, she could get him to notice her. Maybe she could even draw him out on the matter of his mother, since she had seldom heard him discuss it.

He looked briefly at her. "Oh, yeah, you're right, Mita, it sure is."

"Yes, I think she was a great-"

But he didn't really listen. In fact, he turned to Albert and Jane, and he said how he couldn't wait to see the beach at the Sea of Fun. "I hope you wear that tiger bikini, Jane," Osmo added.

"Hey, that's my girl!" Albert protested, and Jane called Osmo a pig. Osmo didn't get insulted; it was like water going off the back of a duck. A thick skin to match his thick skull.

Mita didn't like being ignored, but even less did she like Jane calling Osmo names. That wasn't right. She considered it a flaw that Osmo often let pass insults without replying in kind. Well, once they were dating, she would point that out to him; she wouldn't let him let people disrespect him.

Some man far from them had a copy of "A World Called Hope", and he told his young son what he had learned about the planet from reading the book and what he himself remembered about its history. He told the young boy how, a dozen years ago, before the boy's birth, the space station Peace Lab, while doing particle experiments in orbit above the Earth, somehow accidentally opened a wormhole. The whole space station got sucked in, unfortunately, and it took Dr. Hope Martin, one of the researchers aboard the Peace Lab, along with it. She had managed to move the anomaly away from Earth, at least, so that Earth wasn't destroyed and told the others to abandon the space station. In recognition of her self-sacrifice, staying in the station to make sure the blackhole/wormhole got moved far enough away from Earth, Earth commemorated her by having the planet found on the other end of the wormhole named after her. Her husband, or widow, Gunther, who had funded a lot of the space station research, thought it only appropriate. Given his influence, the Earth Leaders agreed, especially since early exploration of that planet found a new fuel ore on which Earth now relied to help alleviate problems of power shortages, giving Earth new hope of a golden age.

Initially, Gunther Martin's corporation, Martinology, oversaw the exploration and exploitation of the new world. When the government stepped in, it managed to crowd out Gunther Martin from controlling the world, but the Leaders and their committees did allow him to help develop it, and mine it, and set up a farming operation, and also to terraform the new world with Envoro-Gens placed in strategic locations. It was Gunther's idea to build Sparkle City with the help of a competent governor. But these days, so much went on there behind Mr. Martin's back that it was doubtful he was ever brought into the loop regarding so many matters, the man editorialized to his little boy. Nevertheless, Gunther Martin still exercised a substantial influence over what happened in matters concerning the World of Hope.

Well, naturally the little boy didn't quite understand all this which his father had told him, but his father tried to inform him, anyway. The father figured, Hey, it can't hurt to teach my boy early in his life. Maybe one day he'll be a genius.

When the man had finished telling his son the story, he then stood and walked over with the boy to where Osmo sat and introduced his boy to him, apologizing for the intrusion, but he felt sure one day his son would remember this meeting with such a great man's son, who, probably, would also one day be a great man in his own way, considering his genes.

Jane tried not to laugh out loud at the thought of Osmo attaining anything more than a trophy for winning a beer guzzling contest.

Twenty-eight minutes after entering the wormhole, the exit appeared ahead of them as a bright, fixed dot in the distance. And just as quickly as they had spotted the dot, suddenly the dot became a very wide opening, and the Dart zoomed out the tunnel into a new, mostly uncharted quadrant of space. On this side of the wormhole, also, a beacon with a flashing blue light had been set up. As above Earth, here, too, a few security ships prowled the proximity of the tunnel's exit.

"We're here, folks," Capt. Shatner announced. "Welcome to the middle of nowhere. You can see the World of Hope just below to the starboard. No doubt the more observant of you have noticed the exit of the tunnel is only half the distance from Hope as the entrance is from Earth."

Everyone gazed out the portholes at their destination. Smaller than Earth, it orbited a smaller sun, which could be seen in the distance. In turn, Hope was orbited by two moons. The Dart drew closer, and more details of Hope's features became distinguishable. Forests, mountains, lakes, some small seas, an ocean, polar caps at either end. Drawing even nearer, they saw the small metropolis of Sparkle City with a scrubby-bushed dessert bordering almost half the city's perimeter, and the other half of the perimeter abutted the cozy Sea of Fun.

"Yahoo, that was a fast trip," cheered Osmo, "but then, we only went away about a million or so light-years."

Capt. Shatner announced, "We have been cleared for touchdown. Please buckle your seat-belts as we begin our descent, and prepare to enjoy a grand vacation on the planet Hope. And remember, a person cannot live even a minute without hope."

"You got that right," Osmo answered. "And I sure hope to see lots of babes at the beach!"

George hoped Gov. Bright didn't give him too much trouble. He kept it to himself, but he sure wished he felt more optimistic about the whole affair ahead of him.

Check-In

Gov. Xavier Bright ran the planet Hope mostly from his office at his residence on the outskirts of Sparkle City, although a good deal of his time was also consumed in matters of state all about the city and beyond, such as now, waiting to greet the representative sent from Earth. Bored, he wondered when the Space Dart would arrive. He sat in his reserved, canopied greeter box set up by the landing field. With him sat a shapely young girl, still in adolescence, really, and the two servant robots stood by as well.

Sec. Ldr. Clyden returned to the greeter box. "I see them coming down, Gov. Xavier." Clyden pointed to the short,descending rocket that was still far above the clouds.

"You have very good eyes, Security Leader Clyden," Xavier remarked. "Okay, Sheila, get ready to turn on the charm."

"Yes, Uncle," she answered. "I will see that Mr. Martin and his friends find all the fun spots and have a great time."

Capt. Shatner brought the rocket in low and slowed it as they neared the landing pad. He managed to land the Dart on its belly with barely a thump. "Thank you for flying Dart Rockets. Please take your carry-ons and disembark with care in an orderly fashion."

Inside the passengers' cabin, Gazelle instructed everybody how to leave in a civil and courteous procedure, row by row. "And after you go through customs and register, you can rent a robot to help you with your luggage. Taxis are waiting outside the landing field. Enjoy your stay-"

"Sure will", Osmo told her, brushing impulsively past her and ahead of the line.

"Hey, wait for us!" Albert called after him.

"Jerk," muttered Jane.

"Jerk," muttered Gazelle.

Jerk, George thought to himself.

Everybody's jealous of you, my sweet, Mita thought to herself.

Osmo quickly found his luggage while it was being unloaded from the lower portion at the back end of the Space Dart by robots and people. Soon Albert and Jane joined him. However, it took Jane some time to retrieve her suitcase.

"Shlotz, look at those lines at the customs booths," Osmo complained. "I had hoped to get there at the head of the lines!"

"Too bad, I had such a hard time finding my luggage," Jane said. "And I looked as fast as I could, so as not to inconvenience your highness."

Osmo squinted at her suspiciously. "I am pretty sure I've seen you move a lot faster than that before."

The governor's niece Sheila came over with one of the robots to meet the young people from Earth. "Ah, Mr. Martin, greetings from the World of Hope! We are honored to have you and your friends with us, especially considering your parents' history with our planet."

He smiled at her. "And I am honored to meet such a pretty girl!"

She smiled back. "I am Sheila Bright. The governor has asked me to find you and your friends and to show you around our wonderful city."

"Sounds good to me!"

Osmo's companion introduced himself. "I am Albert Zoeniga; I'm Osmo's best friend. And this lovely lady is Jane Ashton."

Jane huffed. "A nice touch, calling me the lovely lady, Albert, but I already saw your eyes pop out your head when you met Miss Bright."

"Call me Sheila, please."

Osmo assured her, "You give me your number and I will call you- Of that you can be sure. We'll be right with you, ma'm, as soon as we register."

She shook her head. "Oh, don't waste your time. That stuff isn't for us. B-12, get their bags and follow us." The robot complied and she led them over to meet the governor.

Mita, meanwhile, looked on, seething at new competition. She finally found her things and struggled with her luggage. She hoped to find an affordable robot to hire.

Sheila took Osmo and Albert and Jane over to meet her uncle, and he cordially greeted them. "I think very highly of your father, Osmo," said Gov. Bright. "He, like your mother, is one of the great ones who helped found this planet. I am sure it will be an honor to have you with us. Welcome to the World of Hope, and to Sparkle City."

"Thank you, Gov. Bright," replied Osmo. "That's very gracious, and true, what you said about Dad."

They shook hands and then the governor asked Sheila to help them find their hotel and settle in for a spell. He wished them a fun time.

After Sheila led Osmo and his friends to her truck, with the robot carrying their things for them, Xavier said, "Nice kids."

"Yes, I am sure," agreed Clyden. "I will take X-9 and find the McCleers now, sir."

"Good. I see them over there in the long lines signing in, wondering why we haven't yet come to meet them. I trust I made them wait long enough to make my point, that I don't think Mr. McCleer's visit for a supposed assessment is as important and worth my time as the Earth Leaders seem to think. The only thing important about George's visit, I think, is that Mrs. McCleer is accompanying him."

The security leader said nothing.

Sec. Ldr. Clyden crossed the field and went over toward the McCleers. Meanwhile, the flight crew now disembarked. As Gazelle passed by, Clyden winked at her but continued on his way. She winked back but didn't change course, either, heading for check-in. Wow, she silently noted, today Tretl is wearing a Security Agent uniform.

Clyden overheard Mrs. McCleer as she was pointing at one of the many posters of the governor hanging on the rocket port fence. "All those posters! More posters than he has Security Agents patrolling the rocketport. And see, Xavier is as handsome as ever! It's like he didn't change a bit."

Mr. McCleer replied, "Yes, that's what I'm afraid of."

Clyden greeted George and Nina, shaking hands and explaining who he was, although they already knew him from stories George heard in his job. "X-9, get their things," Clyden ordered.

"Yes, sir," answered the robot. It picked up the heavy trunks and didn't seem to mind or notice how heavy they were. Nina had packed almost her whole wardrobe.

Clyden went on ahead of them, going over to Xavier at the greeter box, who welcomed them. "Ah, George, Nina, I trust your trip was uneventful. Good to see you two again." He shook George's hand, and gave Nina a warm hug. "Nina, it's really good to see you again."

George stared but said nothing as the governor affectionately embraced her a bit too much affectionately. Obviously Xavier still remembered Nina. How annoying. It made him forget how annoyed he had been because of Xavier's delay in finding them to greet them, a deliberate slight that was not lost on George.

Xavier suddenly released Nina and turned to George. He bottom-lined the situation. "George, your Leaders on Earth said they were sending you to assess how things are running here. What that really means is, you are to critique my performance. Fine. Before you can send in a report that's worth anything, I will show you what a challenge it is to run this planet. I must honestly admit, and I am sure you will agree, also, once you see what I must do, that not many people are half as qualified as I am to keep this place functioning smoothly. I do what I have to do, to get the job done. If Earth wants its precious fuel ore, they had better not try getting rid of me. But let's not talk about that stuff now. Why mar the wonderful dinner the chefs have prepared for us."

Yup, it's true, George mused, silently agreeing with Nina's observation when she saw the governor's poster. Xavier hasn't changed much over the years. Unfortunately. George sighed to himself. I can see this will be a pleasant stay. Xavier sounds as if he will be as co-operative as ever. And, if he were to know my true objective- Well, it is good he does not know, that's all! Or Xavier will be impossible to deal with!

Dinner

"Please excuse the tight space in the limousine," Xavier apologized. "It seems the World of Hope is not regarded so highly with Earth, as frequently my personal requests for supplies are ignored, and instead we are sent only what the Leaders deem is necessary."

Agent Samm chauffeured Gov. Bright and the McCleers through the streets of Sparkle City. The streets needed better asphalting, potholes needed filling, and many buildings, made of the splotchy greyish red stones native and so plenteous of this planet, came right up to the curbs, constricting the street passage terribly. The city was very crowded in its residential sector. Much of the buildings in this area were made of easily gotten, cheap materials, rather than those cheezy slap-together structures first brought here in pre-fabricated sections for the first miners, These sorry stone dwellings consisted mostly of many-storied apartments, and a few singles for the more affluent.

Litter covered many streets because of overflowing trashcans which, apparently, were emptied on a whenever-we-can-get-to-it basis. Only one or two uniformed Security Agents made an appearance, unlike the whole tribe of them at the rocketport. Here and there, on apartment building walls and light posts, hung more posters of Gov. Bright.

The limo finally got free of the congested quarter, and then made fine time past the city limits toward the Governor's Mount a half mile away, finally chugging uphill toward the mansion on top of the steep rise. Security Agent Samm could have taken the outer fringe of the city limits, through the business and tourist sections, but the governor had previously asked for Samm to take this course, so the McCleers could get a first-hand view of the citizens' sufferings, thanks to the tight-fisted ways of Earth when responding to their needs.

"We are all having a hard time, Xavier," George reminded. "You haven't been back on Earth for a number of years. Yes, I see Sparkle City might benefit from more financial help, but maybe also your money managers made some unwise choices."

Xavier just stared at first, giving George the evil eye. Then, "Over the next few days I will show you just how the money is spent. I practically live like a pauper- I, the governor!- so the people can have some luxury. Believe me, it is hard to squander the small amount of money we get from Earth. We mine the ore, but you on Earth reap the profits. But you shall see I speak the truth."

Nina changed the subject. "Xavier, I look forward to seeing Sheila. I still can't believe your sister has been gone these past few years. I know you at least gave Sheila a good home here after the accident. It must be hard for you two. I know how close you all were."

"Yes, I still miss her. In fact, she had spent many months of the year living at the Governor's House with Sheila. But I get by. Running a small planet takes up a lot of time, and one doesn't always have time to mourn properly. Anyway, I accept that, as we travel through life, we sometimes lose some of those we love along the way."

Nina said, "I bet Sheila's grown quite a lot by now. She was so tiny the way I remember her. Was that she at the rocketport? I told George I think we saw her greeting that Osmo Martin and his friends."

Xavier beamed. "It was indeed she. She has been a comfort to me, and she helps me with public relations. If we can generate more tourism, as well as more goodwill from Osmo's father, I think that will help improve our situation."

At the top of the mount Clyden's man pulled into the driveway and stopped the limo at the large house's front entrance. He opened the car door for Xavier and his guests. X-9 hopped out the trunk and took out the Mccleer's luggage.

A robot held open the large brass door for Gov. Xavier and Mr. and Mrs. McCleer. Xavier directed the butler robot to show the McCleers to the guest suite, and X-9 carried their luggage. "Dinner will be ready shortly. Refresh yourselves and I will call on you when all is ready. I hope you don't have rocketlag."

In their rooms, George smiled to Nina. "Well, Xavier hasn't changed much, except I think he seems more intense about things. And, of course, I suppose he is even more pompous."

"Like he said, it's no small job running a planet," Nina replied.

George noticed X-9 hanging about. "Okay, you brought our luggage. You may go now."

X-9 spoke. "No, sir. I am ordered to be your personal assistant. Whatever you need, please let me know."

"We need some privacy is what we need. You go wait outside for us."

"Yes sir, Mr. McCleer." X-9 obeyed.

Nina appreciated the well-furnished rooms. "I have to say, I am impressed with Xavier's taste."

George kidded, "You aren't full of regrets now, are you?"

She laughed. "We do okay for ourselves. Besides, a well-furnished room is no substitute for a loving husband. I believe Xavier loved his sister and loves his niece in his own way, and I would hope if he had a wife he would love her in his own way, but I think I prefer your way of loving."

At dinner some robots served a wonderful meal. Xavier explained that the chef was human. He didn't think robots had enough initiative necessary to make a decent meal. Sec. Ldr. Clyden also showed up for dinner. He and the governor discussed a few items off to the side, and then the governor dismissed Clyden for the night, saying he didn't expect to need him. Xavier told Nina, "We don't like him hovering about, do we? Sometimes he is a bit of a nuisance. The robots at least keep out of the way."

Thinking of X-9, George raised his eyebrows. "Don't you find them also a little too obliging?"

"No, not at all. I guess, since I am in authority, I expect a certain amount of obliging behavior from others. Maybe all leaders feel like that, and we just take it for granted."

As the dinner continued, Xavier lavished much attention on Nina. "How do you like this humble meal?"

"Very nice, Xavier. But I think you overdid it with a dozen different kinds of salad dressing."

Xavier frowned. "Oh, you think so?" He called over the robot butler. "You take that last salad dressing back to the kitchen. Tell the chef I said it is ridiculous to have so much salad dressing. There, see, Nina? Now we only have eleven dressings to choose from. Better?"

She giggled at his joke, but George rolled his eyes. Xavier caught that. "Oh, I am sorry, George. I presume you want to discuss business. I only wanted my old friends to relax for the night before we go over all that. But if you want to see the books already, I can do that. I, too, hate to waste time. But before I show you the books, I had hoped to show you all about Sparkle City, and show you the mines, as well as our environment-generators, etc., in order for you to get the proper context of the books."

"No, no, I think I can wait," George replied. "The bosses want me to take that tour, anyway, and see how things look up close."

Xavier stared at Nina. "I think things look fine up close."

George had had enough. "Well, if you will excuse us, Xavier, we are still on Eastern Time, so I am getting a bit too sleepy. Come, Nina, we better get some rest."

"Um, okay." Her husband's abruptness caught her off-guard. "Okay, good night, then, Xavier. Nice seeing you again. It almost seems like old times."

He watched them go. "Yes," he muttered to himself. "It almost does, doesn't it?"

Later, as Nina unpacked some of the luggage in the guest suite, she noted George had a case full of papers and things. She wouldn't touch that. He didn't like his papers messed up and out of order.

X-9 waited outside the suite, patiently hoping to be needed.

Nina heard George in the shower. It sounded like he was... talking with someone?! "George, are you talking to me? If you are, I can't even hear you," she called to him.

"Huh? Oh, haha, I guess you hear me singing!" he called back.

"Hmm. Is that what you call it?" she muttered.

Inside the bathroom, George hadn't even gotten into the shower yet, but he had it running full blast. He spoke into a small black plastic square. "Okay, then, I must be signing out," he whispered. "At least we know this communication device works,and, I hope, Xavier can't pick up the transmissions. This stealth technology is great! And, even if he can eavesdrop, his communications crew won't be able to decipher it. I wish you could hear me better, but I am not sure if Xavier has this suite bugged, so I have on the shower. I'll be getting the grand tour of Hope starting tomorrow. I will keep you folks on Earth posted with secret reports of how much progress I make regarding my true purpose for coming to this place."

A tinny voice on the other end signed out, and George looked around for a place to hide the black square while he grabbed a quick shower. Afterward, he intended to hide it back in his suitcase of papers. Nina would be none the wiser.

The Tourist Trap

Tretl Clyden headed for his parking spot just outside the Tourist Trap nightclub. The citizens knew this was his spot, so no one dared grab it. Sometimes, however, the tourists rented cars and mistakenly parked there, but Clyden simply called in a tow truck and had the offending vehicle pulled. Tonight would be different, much to Clyden's ire.

As he neared his spot, he saw a truck swerve around him and beat him to the spot. Clyden fumed.

Maintaining his composure, Clyden parked in the middle of the street and stepped out from his Security Agency vehicle. He felt sure the dope must be a tourist. He would set him straight, and the matter would be resolved. Then he recognized the truck- Sheila Bright's! She would never dare do that to him- In fact, why would she be at the club, at such a young age?

Clyden shook his head. "All right, Sheila, what's-"

The driver wasn't Sheila, however. It was that Osmo Martin guy the governor had asked her to show about the city. Of all the nerve. Clyden indicated with his thumb for Osmo to move the truck.

Osmo smiled to Clyden and shook his head. "Nope, sorry. I got here first, and I got it fair and square!"

Sheila sat by Osmo's side. In the back seats sat his companions Jane and Albert. Sheila told Osmo, "We can go somewhere else. A little walking will be good for us."

Osmo instead hopped out the truck. "It'll be better for him, Sheila. Look at his gut. C'mon, guys, let's see what kind of booze they got in this joint."

Reluctantly, Sheila got out. Osmo already started for the nightclub. She looked at Clyden and shrugged, then hurried after Osmo. Albert and Jane followed them.

Very annoyed, Clyden growled. He was about to call in the tow truck, until he remembered it was Gov. Xavier's niece's truck. He returned to his own vehicle and snarled as he drove about, looking for the closest open spot to the nightclub he could find.

Once inside, Clyden found Gazelle already waiting at their regular booth at the Tourist Trap. She greeted him with a giant grin. "Hey, good-lookin'. Glad you got away from the governor for the night. I was afraid you would have to stay overtime because of the VIPs from Earth tonight."

"I just told Gov. Xavier I wanted the night off, and he better let me take the night off."

"Yeah... Right. I'll bet those were your exact words."

"Well, maybe not my EXACT words," admitted Clyden. "I wouldn't be so disrespectful to Gov. Xavier. I think he's a very wise man. Or, at least at one time I very much admired his brilliance. But now, well, since his niece has been his charge, and is getting on in her teen-age years, I begin to question his judgment. He seems to let her do whatever she wants. I think it's a bad reflection on his office, frankly."

"There she is, right over there," Gazelle pointed her out to him. "She is sitting with those kids. That rich man's kid with her, Osmo Martin, he's such a jerk. You think she does what she wants- you should meet him. What a jerk. His father, I guess, is afraid of losing him, since he lost his wife, so he always gets him out of trouble."

"I already did meet the punk. In the short time I did, he managed to make me hate him. Did he give you trouble, too, on the flight?"

"Not so much... Well, okay, some." She told him about how Osmo had behaved.

"He better walk the straight and narrow while he's here, or maybe I'll toss him in a nice cell somewhere for a week," threatened Clyden.

She smiled over that pleasant thought. "If only you could. But Gov. Bright would never allow that. It'd certainly work against his ploy to attract positive attention and tourism for Sparkle City. Besides, Osmo's papa no way would allow it." She sipped her coffee. "It's passengers like him that make me reconsider your job offer."

"Good, you should," Clyden encouraged her. "We see our share of jerks, but at least the pay is higher. And you get to spend more time with me here, instead of you having to go back to Earth, which, of course, is reason enough to accept the offer. And you can take my position when Gov. Xavier makes me his assistant governor, the vice-governor."

"So he plans to do that, then?"

"I am still working on him about it. He knows he needs me. I help him run the place, and I see that it runs smoothly. I do the unpleasant things for him, the dirty jobs that somebody's gotta do, to keep everything on track. Why wouldn't he come around to see things my way?"

"Ego?" suggested Gazelle.

"Naturally he possesses a huge ego. What great leader doesn't? But he is also a politician, and sometimes, for the sake of expediency, a politician puts his ego on hold," reasoned Clyden.

She looked skeptical. "Anyway, that dirty tricks thing, that's what I don't like. That's what holds me back. I know you have no choice. I accept that. But I don't want to be in that position, where I have no choice in the matter."

Clyden sighed. He had nothing to say to that. After a few moments of silence, he asked, "So when do you go back?"

"Tomorrow."

"Too bad." He sighed again. "I miss you all the time."

Over at one of the tables, Sheila and Osmo sat with Albert and Jane. The group laughed as Osmo related how he once took his third grade teacher's yardstick to knock down a beehive out at recess, and then he bagged it and brought the hive into the school. School had to be dismissed because of the swarm attacking the whole school, which is what he wanted, except he didn't count on himself getting all full of bee stings.

Mita stepped into the club and looked around for a friendly face. Jane noticed. "Hey, there's Mita again."

"Huh?" Osmo nodded. "Oh, that's nice, Jane." And he went on with his story.

Albert called over to her, "Hey, Mita, over here. Come sit with us." He pulled up a chair for her from another table.

Mita thanked him and joined them. She listened to Osmo's story, laughing with the others, remembering the stings vividly. Inside her mind, she growled about Sheila still cloying to Osmo. How can I shake that vamp from him? She just met him and she acts like she owns him!

The band began a lively tune. "Oh, I love this song," Mita said. "Osmo, want to dance?"

"Um, I think I'll sit this one out," he politely answered.

Albert said he liked the song, too, so he yanked Mita up to dance. Jane warned Mita, "Albert has two left feet."

Mita tried to hide the obvious disappointment with Osmo's rejection. She always kept her attention fixed on her one hope and desire, and he paid her no mind at all, just as Jane had said.

Sheila grabbed Osmo's arm. "I don't care what you say, you definitely are NOT sitting this one out." She dragged him out of his chair.

"Okay, okay," he laughed, letting her pull him into the middle of the crowded dance floor.

Mita stared, her eyes unbelieving. What am I doing wrong?

Jane watched Osmo and Sheila, and to herself pegged Sheila as a very plastic person, the way she acted, as if she always wanted a good time. And no doubt Osmo found that trait a virtue, not a vice.

Clyden observed the youth from Earth from his booth. He asked Gazelle if she wanted to dance also.

"Sure."

Osmo pranced around the floor with Sheila. Clyden hopped with vigor, surprising Gazelle with his energy. He never danced like that other times. Suddenly he was over by Osmo, gyrating and shaking it, and all at once he bumped fiercely into Osmo, hard, very hard, knocking him flat on his back.

"Osmo!" gasped Sheila.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't notice you," Clyden apologized, hardly sounding sincere. He held out his hand to help Osmo back on his feet. Osmo at first hesitated about taking his hand, not sure if this whole thing was really accidental or deliberate.

"Be more careful!" Sheila complained to Clyden.

He shrugged. "Accidents can happen to anyone."

"Yeah, especially around you, Sec. Ldr. Clyden," she fumed.

Gazelle found herself taken aback. "Clyden, maybe we better get going. It's getting late, anyway."

As they exited, he told her, "That felt good, taking down the little wiseguy. Did you see how mad Sheila got? Too bad, eh? But I guess I must get used to putting up with her; when I am second-in-command-governor, thought, I will make my office off-limits to Gov. Xavier's niece."

Gazelle shook her head, still shocked. "You could have hurt that boy, Clyden!"

"From that little fall? Ha! He looks to me like he can take it. Besides, what doesn't kill you only makes you grow stronger."

"I think you should have stuck with the coffee, hon. Now you aren't even making any sense," she told him, as they walked up the street. "Hey, where's your car? Don't you usually park right there?"

In the nightclub, Mita made sure to ask Osmo if he were okay. "It was only a fall," he told her. "No problem."

Mita wondered why Osmo didn't even get mad about it. Why was he like that? And why did that other guy knock him down in the first place? It sure seemed on purpose to her. What a rude fellow! And deep down, she realized with shame she felt a small, vengeful part of her saying silently to Osmo, Good for you, if you are too dumb to appreciate me, a woman who cares for you, and continue instead to hang around with that bimbo, you deserve to get knocked down!

On the Roof

As before, Albert and Jane took the back seats of the truck, but this time Sheila drove, since Osmo left the Tourist Trap in a somewhat tipsy condition. Mita had left the nightclub ahead of them to return to her own hotel in a somewhat seedy part of town. She thought it wise to get back there before someone broke into her room and rifled through her things.

Osmo and his friends stayed at the posh Hope Hotel. Like many of the buildings of Sparkle City, it had been built from the splotchy stones, but then it had been treated to make the rock resemble marble from Earth.

Instead of going to their rooms and calling it a night, Sheila suggested they go to the roof of the twelve-story hotel and enjoy the view of the cityscape in the bright light of the two moons. Albert and Jane liked the idea.

"Just keep away from the edge," Jane cautioned Osmo. "Your balance seems to be a bit off tonight."

"Oh? I must have an inner ear infection..."

Albert for the moment ignored the city below. "Those two moons are something to see! Very bright- combined, they are brighter than Earth's moon, that's for sure. Does anybody live on either of them? Are there cities like Sparkle or anything?"

"In fact, each one has a moonbase," Sheila said, "in case of ever any kind of emergency with a rocket traveling the tunnel, those manning the base can get there quickly to help, if the moons orbits are close to the wormhole when it happens. Also, a rocket needing repairs can land there." Proudly, she added, "It was Uncle Xavier's idea to put the bases there."

Osmo squinted, peering into the night sky. "Hey, I think I can see the flashing blue beacon showing where is the wormhole tunnel out in space! Or is it the booze?"

"Yup. Some days or nights it can be seen from here. But say, you are not looking at the city. It is just as pretty from our view. Don't you agree? My uncle helped the city develop into the jewel it is today."

Wobbling in front of Sheila, Osmo stared into her eyes. "Yes, I agree. You certainly are pretty from here."

She patted his shoulder good-naturedly. "Okay, Os, so you've told me a couple of times already tonight. Perhaps you should not drink so much next time, okay? Then I will know whether it is really you talking or just the alcohol."

Osmo shrugged, a little embarrassed. Jane found that exchange interesting. Perhaps Sheila wasn't quite as plastic as Jane had first figured.

Albert said, "It's good Hope doesn't enforce any legal age drinking laws, or we'll all be in trouble tonight."

Sheila changed the subject. "See that big high hill over there in the distance? There's where the Governor's House sits. It's lit up, as usual. My uncle likes to keep it looking good, and he likes to have the lights on, so he can always see how good it looks, and so other people can see it as well and be proud of it. And they should be, because it is very beautiful. I must take you there and show you the place some time soon."

"Count me in for it," said Jane. "Up that way, in the opposite direction- that place with all those lights, more even then your uncle's place. That must be the rocketport, right? It looks even bigger from this perspective than when we were right there when we landed!"

"Why yes, it overs almost the whole northern end of our town, Jane. It has to be that big, because a lot of freighters use the port when they come to haul our fuel ore. On the other side of the rocketport our farms also provide a bit of goods to send to Earth, such as crops and some of the hybrid animals we breed that come from the first batch that escaped when the Peace Lab had crashlanded down here- Oh!"

The young girl from Hope stopped herself, realizing what she talked about so casually in the very presence of the son of the brave, lost Hope Martin. "I'm sorry, Osmo. But you might be happy to know that Uncle Xavier saw to it that a breathtaking park had been set up to honor your mother, and not very far from this hotel. I was going to tell you about it tomorrow, so that we can visit it-"

Osmo shook his head. "No, thanks, Sheila. I don't need to go."

"You don't want to see-"

Albert, familiar with Osmo's reaction to this subject, suggested to Sheila, "It's wise to drop that matter with Osmo."

Puzzled, she nodded, not understanding. "I guess he must have his reasons..."

She waved her hand over the city in the direction of the west, toward some nearby wilderness mountains. "Anyway, over in this direction, spread along the tourist section of town, we have some more parks, a library, a college, a stadium, and- this is the best part- quite a few shopping malls for the Earthers- and the rest of us who like to go shopping."

"No hospitals?" asked Jane.

"Of course we have hospitals- well, at least one. That's more on the east side, toward the Sea of Fun. It's on the same side of town, but more in town, however, as is my uncle's place. I shop there on that side of town, too, but not as much, because that side is a tourist zone, but it is mixed with the older business and commercial zones, and even the residential zones. Most people live in the heart of Sparkle, in the middle, and the tourist and business places surround the peoples' houses. Ahem, I might add, I help Uncle Xavier with the town planning zones. I go over the permit requests for him, recommending what to give final approval to or to reject."

"Nice," said Jane.

Albert asked, "So where are the good churches located? I had it drilled into me as a little kid to attend every week, and, well, I still have the habit. I want to go tomorrow. Wanna come, Os?"

Osmo ignored him.

Sheila gave directions for how to get to the official state chapel. "Um, I go, too. Once in awhile. With my uncle. The services can be very inspiring."

"That's good to hear," Jane remarked.

Sheila quickly got off that talk about attending church. "So, you can see how big our city is, and how we manage to provide for our citizens. And we also make a better life possible for all those on Earth, by mining our fuel ore for them, and by sharing our food with them. Yet Earth shows its appreciation by depriving us of the basics that we need, that we ask for, forcing my uncle to figure out ways to use the shoddy, short amounts of things they do send us to the best advantage for all of us on Hope."

"Do tell," said Osmo, listening.

"Well, as an example, Earth sent us a lot of broken down, useless robots. Earth doesn't much use them, because they don't need them. They have enough resources, so robots are just a novelty for them, anyway. These were supposed to be service robots, for things like collecting trash and stuff. But my wise uncle converted them to other, more useful functions, like helping guard the miners, or guarding the border of town. They keep out the wild animals, although I haven't heard of many outside of town lately. And the border robots check the permits of people coming and going, visiting some of the World of Hope's wonderful resorts and such."

Sheila chuckled. "Of course, Uncle Xavier can't give the robots jobs that make them think too much. Everybody knows how stupid robots can be."

Jane interrupted. "That's why Uncle Xavier insisted on inviting Osmo and us, his pals, here, and pays our hotel expenses, to win over Osmo's support, and in turn, Osmo will tell his father about how the World of Hope needs more help, and so Mr. Martin will then use his influence with the Earth Leaders to get more supplies for Hope- and also to boost tourism, too."

"Yup," Sheila added, "And I am glad Uncle Xavier did bring you here. I had fun today, especially with Osmo. I like your company."

"I like your company, too." Osmo gave her a goofy smile, which in his state he thought looked sexy.

Albert said, "Can you take us to the beach tomorrow, Sheila? I'm in the mood to vanquish Osmo in another game of volleyball!"

"Hahaha! You wish! You only got lucky last time, pal," Osmo told him.

"And he got lucky the time before that, too," reminded Jane. "Hmm, and then the time before that, also. And before that, and-"

Osmo scowled. "Okay, okay, so Albert gets lucky a lot. What's your point?"

Jane told Albert, "If you are going to go to church tomorrow, then we can't set up a time to go to the beach until after the services, don't forget. What time is church, Sheila?"

Sheila was unsure of the actual times of the church services. She gave a time, and hoped she guessed right. They all agreed to meet at the beach afterward. Albert assumed Osmo and Sheila would already be at the beach ahead of them, since neither of those two planned to attend church with Albert and Jane. After deciding what time to be at the beach, Albert excused himself so he could get enough rest in order to rise up early enough in time for church.

When Albert left, Jane did likewise, going to her own hotel room. Osmo and Sheila stayed up on the rooftop, enjoying the night and each other's company.

Osmo commented, "I see the hotel rooms have landlines. That seems a bit outdated."

"Not really, Osmo. There's not much in the way of cell phones here because Hope just doesn't have the system set up to operate them. I think some interference in the air or something is why it had never been well developed. But the Security Agents use them, and also walkies. But other than theirs, cell phones are not so reliable here. When the citizens can afford to, they use landlines."

"Oh, I see."

"My uncle has a whole communications department back at the Security Agency building, to keep the agents able to talk with each other. It also helps him when he wants to call to Earth. They help synchronize the satellites with the wormhole and all that complicated stuff."

"It sounds complicated. That's the sort of challenge my father likes to work with. He thinks that's fun. Say, Sheila, I have an idea for some late-night fun..."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Believe it or not, I brought along some balloons in my luggage. The customs on Earth gave me a funny look about them, but I brought them for just such an occasion as this. They're downstairs in my rooms yet. Let's fill them with water and bomb the people from up here as they go by!"

She shook her head. "No, Osmo, let's not. Please tell me you're not serious."

"Huh? Why not?"

"You can't do that. If someone complains, Sec. Ldr. Clyden will come and get you, and lock you up for the night. You already made him plenty mad when you took his parking place. My uncle won't approve of locking you up like that, but Mr. Clyden can use the excuse that you were being a public nuisance while intoxicated. As a rule, he doesn't like to go against Uncle Xavier, but I think in your case, tonight, while he is still hot under the collar, Sec. Ldr. Clyden would make an exception."

Osmo laughed with mirth, carried away with his plan. "I'm willing to take my chances!" He turned toward the door leading back down from the roof.

Sheila gently latched onto his arm, holding him back. "Please, Osmo. My uncle invited you here. It will be a bad reflection on him. You needn't give in to every mischievous impulse you feel, you know."

He stood there, frozen in indecision, fighting the impulse. Finally, he relaxed, sighing. "Okay, but it would have been fun." Then, suddenly, he kissed her on the cheek. She could smell the beer on his breath. "Sorry," he again laughed, "but I couldn't resist that fun impulse, anyway!"

Taken aback, she giggled. "It's getting late, Osmo. I'll walk with you down to your door, then I must get going, or Uncle Xavier will send Sec. Ldr. Clyden himself out looking for me. I hate when Uncle does that!"

After she left him, Osmo entered his rooms, whistling happily, closing the door. Sheila continued on down to the street, to her truck, humming a cheery little tune of her own.

Jealous

Mita brooded in her small room. She fretted over the way her vacation was going so far. She didn't mind the small hotel unit- although practically a flophouse, this hotel, it was the only affordable one. She knew Osmo's place at the Hope Hotel must be a lot larger, and with better lavatory facilities. At least, she felt certain, he did not share a bathroom with other tourists. His father had money, hers didn't. (She did not know the governor paid for Osmo's bill.) Money held no special awe for her. However, she recognized its need to meet her basic needs. She worried she wasted what money she had- money she really couldn't afford to waste- on this trip which appeared headed for destination: disappointment.

Why did Osmo let other girl cling all over him? And why were his eyes blind to all of Mita's assets? What was wrong with Mita, anyway, or maybe the question was, what was wrong with Osmo. Did he fear an intelligent, honest, down-to-earth woman? Someone who believed in commitment, in making her man happy? Maybe he feared her because she was such a responsible person.

She fluffed her pillow, little good that it did; no way Mita was going to sleep tonight! She had to figure out what to do. This Sheila might be more shapely and prettier than Mita, but in the end, Osmo would realize Mita is the keeper. She had to figure out how to make him realize this.

Mita wasn't the only one unable to sleep.

At the Governor's House, in the guest suite, as X-9 patiently awaited for any commands standing outside the door, in the bedroom, George McCleer tossed and turned on the bed. Finally, he sat up and turned on the bedside lamp.

"Hon, I really need some sleep," Nina begged.

"Can't help it, Nina. That Xavier burns me up. Who does he think he is, practically hitting on my wife right in front of my face?!"

She tried to calm him down, rubbing his shoulders. "Oh, now, George, you know how our old friend Xavier is. There's nothing new there. That's just the way he is. He always was, always will be. Don't take him too seriously."

"True, he always was a big conceited nitwit who thought nothing of sweet-talking another man's woman," George acknowledged. "I guess that's too bad. He's still the same, he never matured. No, he isn't the same. His ego is even larger than before, something I never thought possible. Or did I say that already? If I weren't here on official business, I'd smack him upside the head! Oh, and just for the record, he wasn't our friend; he was your friend."

Nina hugged her husband. "Ah ah, dear, I thought you wanted to visit church here tomorrow. You aren't going with all that violence in your heart, are you?"

He grunted. "Well, isn't there such a thing as righteous indignation?"

"Why, George, I do believe you are jealous!"

"Huh? Of Xavier? You've got to be kidding me."

"Well," Nina confessed,"it is flattering, the attention he gives me. And he didn't lose any of his charms, that's for sure-"

"All right, knock it off." George cut her off from anymore talk with a giant kiss, making any more conversation impossible. Instead of resisting, she answered back with her own kiss, and outside the door, X-9, even though only a robot, but with good hearing, realized Mr. and Mrs. McCleer wouldn't be needing any help from him tonight.

Meanwhile, Xavier, still in the dining room on the ground floor, never even tried to sleep this night. The hour was late, but instead of rest, he sat and thought and pondered. Sheila interrupted his musings when she got back from her time with Osmo and his friends.

"Oh, Uncle, I must report good tidings to you," she announced.

He gave her his full attention, shoving aside those other matters in his mind. He awaited expectantly. "What is it? Don't tell me he already asked you to marry him? Then I know Gunther Martin will make sure we on the planet Hope finally have everything we really need."

"Oh, you!" she giggled. "Not yet, but I am sure he must be in love with me by now." She kept the part about the kiss to herself.

Xavier nodded. "He'd be a fool if he wasn't! I appreciate you doing all you can for our world. I know you try very hard to help me, as had your mother. She helped me run this place like clockwork. You have been a much appreciated help for me, indeed, but I don't know if anyone can ever replace Selina. I hope you take no offense when I tell you this. I wish I found someone so qualified as to be my vice-governor. Incidentally, while you are a very big help, you're too young, I want you to know, for the job, just in case you were hoping for the spot."

She wrinkled up her face. "As if I want to settle down into such a boring job already at my age! I can't be tied down yet- too much to do, too much fun to have, you know, Uncle"

"I do know," he said. "I was once young. I remember the joy of youth. I also remember the frustrations... But that's another story."

Sheila asked, "What about Security Leader Clyden? He seems to be very helpful and always at your service."

"I thought you didn't like him."

"I don't," she said. "We don't mix very well at all. But he seems to respect you, and to be always conscious of how he can make your administration look good with the citizens, or at least, he seeks to make sure the citizens also respect you, as much as he does. If you will have an easier time, making him you second-in-command, Uncle, then I am all for it, as long as it takes some of the strain off you. Pardon my saying so, but it looks like you should follow the example of the tourists, and take a break for yourself sometimes."

Xavier, touched by her concern, replied, "You indeed are your mother's daughter. That's very noble of you to say such a thing. Maybe Clyden is somebody worth considering... There is no problem of which he is unwilling to be help me solve. However, honestly, can you see him in such a high office? Look how professional he looks in his current position."

"He is very loyal. I am happy you have someone like that working for you, Uncle. A great man like you deserves loyal followers."

He reflected on her words. "Thank you, Sheila. Now, I must once more ask a favor of you. Tomorrow I must go to church with the McCleers. You don't remember them, but they are somewhat religious. I don't have the luxury of time for that. And it's not really something I care to find time for. But tomorrow I will at least make an appearance with them. It looks good. I would appreciate it if you join me."

"Of course, if you want me to come. I will stop over at the hotel in the morning before service and let Osmo know. We will just put off our visit to the beach until the afternoon."

"Why stop over at his hotel? They have phones at the Hope Hotel."

"No, I think I will stop over, Uncle, if it is okay with you."

Xavier raised an eyebrow at that. He nodded his consent, saying nothing.

Early Sunday morning. Mita hopped out of bed, a plan in her mind. She quickly dressed and made a small breakfast, which she then proceeded to pack in a traveling bag.

Well, I thought about it all night, Osmo, and I finally realize that you like a lively, assertive woman. Well, meet the new Mita. I will no longer hide in the shadows. Watch out, sweetie, it's hunting season!

Mita took a cab to Osmo's hotel. She had heard Osmo and Albert discuss their rooms while she sat at the Tourist Trap with them, and one of them had mentioned the room numbers, so she knew where to go.

As the elevator carried her up to the fourth floor, Mita began to have second thoughts. What if she got the wrong room? What if Osmo already left to meet her competition? What if- no, stop it, girl! That fretting and worrying was the old Mita. But you are the new, confident Mita!

Mita located D28 and marched right up to the door. Without a moment's hesitation, she held the bag of breakfast in one hand and rapped on the door with the other. She held her breath in excitement as she heard someone moving toward the door. As it opened, Mita blurted out, "Surprise! I made you breakfast!"

"Why, um, thank you, Mita." Sheila had been the one to answer the door. "Osmo, look, your friend is here-"

Mita gasped, speechless.

Osmo forced a welcoming smile on his face. "Oh, hi, Mita, that was very nice of you. Thanks. Come on in-"

"Um, um, no, I can't stay," Mita sputtered, her cheeks on fire. "I, uh, just dropped off breakfast because um, Jane and I are planning a breakfast of our own, and we didn't want you to go hungry-"

"What?" Osmo, bewildered, asked, "You mean she and Albert didn't go to chuch today? I thought we were supposed to meet afterward at the beach-"

Mita, wishing she could be back on Earth in her comfortable bed right about now, with much fluster answered, "Um, well, what about that- I can't stay, late for an appointment, gotta go-" and she did and was gone.

Sheila shook her head, then shrugged. "What was that all about?"

Confused, Osmo also shrugged. "I have no idea. I never could figure out that Mita."

State Church

Early Sunday morning the McCleers readied for worship services at the church their host had recommended, Chapel of Hope. Nina, not having robots to serve her back on Earth, felt a bit awkward around X-9 when she stepped out of the shower, and there he stood, holding her towel for her. He continued to flutter about, constantly asking if he may be of help while she tried to dress in privacy.

"I don't like him about, either, in case he wants to go back and report to his master whatever we say," George empathized. "But since it is so hard to get rid of this determined robot, just ignore him. It is, after all, just a robot."

"I know. Yet somehow they seem almost human," Nina said. "X-9, do you ever wish you were human?"

"Never, ma'm."

She asked, "Well, then, what do robots wish for? What is a typical robot hope, a robot desire? Do you have any wants at all?"

Her husband chuckled. "Nina, he- it's a robot. Don't waste your time chatting with it, or trying to understand it and be its friend."

"Hush, George! Do you want to hurt his feelings? What are you saying? He may be a robot, and a pest, but he is still important. He thinks. He is almost a person! X-9, don't let Mr. McCleer's careless comments offend you."

"No offense taken, ma'm," X-9 assured her. "Robots don't get insulted. We don't have much in the way of a sense of ego. And we also have very few wishes, or none at all even, save the desire to serve humanity. We don't usually chat, we don't make friends. We co-operate in teams for certain projects, but we don't form friendships. We neither need nor want friendship."

"There, you see?" said George. X-9 had vindicated George by his own robot testimony. "Now, hurry up so we can make it to church on time. Xavier and his niece are already set to go and are waiting for us."

"Okay, okay." She slipped on the dress. "This doesn't make me look fat, does it?"

X-9 began, "Actually, Mrs. McCleer-"

Quickly and tactfully George cut him off. "No, hon, you look great in that dress." He whispered to the robot, "Not another word, if you know what's good for you."

Once Nina selected a dress, they joined the Brights. Xavier introduced them to Sheila, who didn't say much except polite greetings. Sheila confessed she only vaguely remembered them from when she and her mother had lived on Earth.

Nina remarked, "You look as pretty as your mom. She and I had been close during our college years. I had even met your Uncle Xavier through her."

Security Leader Clyden accompanied them on the way to the chapel. Agent Samm chauffeured them, but for this trip, the robots stayed behind at the house.

The chapel, located in the tightly packed residential quarters, matched its surroundings. A squeezed-looking structure the height of two stories, it was constructed of those awful splotched rocks which were found in plenty all over the wilderness outside Sparkle City and quarried from the nearby heights. Some argument over what color to paint the chapel never got resolved, thus the chapel, never painted, became just another ugly building on the street, even uglier than most.

George commented on the fact that there was very little to show that the chapel was a house of worship. Xavier explained, "The chapel is used by different faiths. In order not to offend anybody, we don't adorn the outside of the chapel with any symbols of any kind."

Nina frowned. "So how does anyone know if it is a Hindu service or a Christian service or anything else?"

Sheila, who had been silent up to this point, suggested, "Read the schedule for what time each faith has its service. It's posted on the outside bulletin board."

"Wouldn't it be better for each belief system to have its own temple?" suggested George.

"Why?" asked the governor. "One way to God is as good as any other. Half the worshipers who come don't really care what religion is on schedule, as long as they come to some service. I've heard of some attending a Buddhist ceremony one visit, and the next time a Catholic Mass. And they felt just as close to God at either one. Doesn't that make sense?"

"No," George contradicted. "If Jesus said He is the only way to the Father, how can that be the same as any other way? And if another religion claims it is the only way, how can it be that the other so-called ways then are just as good, if they don't follow the way that claims to be the only way?"

"You think too much," Xavier said. "Besides, we don't have that much room in the residential zone for extra buildings that we don't need."

Clyden and his agent remained outside with the limo, guarding it in the parking place reserved for the governor, while the others headed inside the chapel. Once in, the McCleers noted there were no pictures or icons or anything. The only thing that gave away the fact that it was supposed to be a Christian service this morning was that the lectern had a banner hanging off it depicting a cross. This banner could conveniently be rolled up and taken away so that the next religion could use the same lectern.

The McCleers didn't get much out of the service. Xavier, it seemed, didn't pay attention to it. Sheila looked at the abridged Bibles that were handed out, which had had many edits done. She lost interest and set it on an empty seat.

Sheila waved to her nearby new friends. Albert and Jane sat off to the side. George recognized them from the flight. He couldn't tell what they thought of the sermon. Most of the other people- and there weren't very many- seemed either unhappy with the affair, or indifferent.

The sermon, What We Can Do to Please God, was delivered by a very unimportant looking fellow, George thought. Oh, oh, George told himself, that is just plain wrong to judge like that. How many of the apostles appeared to human eyes to be important people? Maybe in that jar of clay a dynamo for God would deliver an electrifying message.

Sadly, that proved not to be the case. First the preacher read the text from Titus 3:1, and other texts of that kind (and which none of these kinds of passages had been edited from the approved Bible), and then he expounded how imperative it was to obey their leaders, especially their governor and his Security Agents, and the Leaders of Earth. This co-operation with the leaders and authorities caused peace amongst themselves and others. Indeed, it was just the thing that pleased God. How can one have order if one stands against the leaders? How can society function? Etc., etc. The crux of the sermon was, Obey. Obey the government, whose leaders know better than the average person.

Nina whispered to George, "The state-approved church is even more lifeless here than back on Earth. I suspect that Xavier's religion board is very zealous in what they do."

Afterward, while muttering about the state church sermon while in the line to exit- each attendee stopping to shake the preacher's hand-, George's turn came as he reached the minister. George "forgot" to shake the pastor's hand. Instead, he complained, "What happened to that stuff about Jesus, how he died on the cross for our sins and rose again from the dead?"

"Oh, we still teach that!" the minister protested. "Only, well, not so much, only around Easter and maybe around Christmas. And we don't like to fixate on sin. That's such a negative doctrine. We must get with the times if we are to bring in any worshipers to the House of God. And besides, a sermon like the one I just delivered is always a blessing to the people. After all, we all have to obey our leaders, don't we?"

George, unimpressed, shook his head and walked out the door. Xavier, annoyed with George, followed right behind, not stopping to talk with the preacher. Xavier asked, "What is your problem, George? Isn't it a good thing to teach a little respect for those in authority?"

"Yes," George agreed, "but I must have missed it when the preacher was talking about respecting the Supreme Authority. You cannot substitute a man or the state for God, no matter how wonderful the man is, even if he is you, Xavier."

Observing all this, Sheila told herself, Uh oh. I bet that went over like a lead balloon with Uncle Xavier. Sheila didn't know Mr. McCleer, but she knew what irritated her uncle. She wondered what that was all about, the Earther's cockiness. There seemed to be bad blood between the two men.

As they went out to the car, Clyden had his back to them, talking on his cellular. "Oh, that's great, sweetie. You may not think it is, but now that the rocket has some kind of trouble and is grounded, you can spend more time with me, since you won't be able to get back to Earth until the Dart is fixed, or another rocket is sent for you. See, it pays to go to church, love- My prayers have been answered!"

Clyden suddenly heard the footsteps of the approaching governor. He said bye and Agent Samm rushed to open the door for Xavier and his guests. Xavier noted, "You were talking with your friend over Security Agency cell phones. I trust it was a security matter."

"Sorry, sir, it was an emergency," answered Clyden.

"Yes, it sounded like one. I am glad to see you are on top of all things security-wise."

"Thank you, Gov. Xavier. I appreciate the compliment." Clyden wondered, Now what's eating him? Is he riled up over that McCleer fellow again?

Robot Hunting

Osmo answered the door dressed for the beach. "Ah, you are back. Hope you had a nice time at church. Let's go to the beach!- Hey, Sheila, why aren't you dressed for it?"

Sheila gave Osmo a big hug. "I got a better idea, Osmo. Go change; we're going robot hunting!"

"Huh? But Albert and Jane are going to meet us there."

She rolled her eyes. "Like you never stood up a pal that you planned to meet."

Osmo thought about it. "True, but I never stood up Albert before. Oh well, there's always a first time for everything. Besides, I think Mita will be there to keep them company. Let's go robot hunting, Sheila."

"Now you're talkin', you gorgeous Earther!"

In short time Sheila drove Osmo along the highway, past the beach, heading to the outskirts of Sparkle City by the wastelands. Osmo waved to the people laying out on the sand. "See ya, Berto, see ya, Jane!"

And on the beach, Jane, in her tiger bikini, just happened to look up while on her blanket. "Al, will you look at that. I think I just saw Osmo and that Sheila girl drive by the beach, and keep on going. Imagine that, they didn't even stop."

"Osmo stood us up, eh?" Albert sighed. "I guess they have a better date planned, and he forgot about us. That's Osmo for ya."

Mita soaked up the sun on a blanket nearby. She had come to the beach, because she had learned this was where the gang would be this afternoon. She felt foolish because of this morning when she brought Osmo breakfast, but, after all, this was the new Mita. Looking foolish was no excuse to let opportunity slide by, so she showed up here, hoping to make Osmo notice her. She fretted. How could she do that if he never stopped here? And he was with that Sheila again! She grumbled, I won't wait forever for him to notice me!

When Sheila reached the outskirts of town past the rocketport, she pulled off the road into a dusty parking lot. The highway died here, becoming a rough dirt drive leading into the desert. Here and there robots patrolled the perimeter, guarding Sparkle City.

"Where does the road go? To the mines?" asked Osmo.

"Oh yes. That's a dreary place. Don't go if you can help it. The road also branches off to some pretty resorts, however. And over that bridge are the farms."

"So what's this robot hunting all about?"

She beamed. "Sometimes I do it, just for fun. You'll get a kick out of it." The young lady called over the robot nearest her. "You there, what is your designation?"

"M-15, ma'm." He stood by the truck, ready to serve. Since the other robots recognized Sheila as Gov. Bright's niece, they paid no attention and continued to march about, guarding Sparkle City.

"You know who I am, right?"

"Yes, Miss Bright."

"Very good, M-15. Since you know who my uncle is, you will obey me, correct?"

"Of course. The only way I would refuse you is if the governor himself opposed your command or someone else in a position of authority higher than you, ma'm."

She turned to Osmo. "This is so great, the way these robots want to please us. Can you imagine having such a servant-type disposition?"

Osmo vigorously shook his head. "No, I can't. Not in the least. I guess I am not made that way, nor do I want to be such a people pleaser." He mimicked vomiting.

"Give me your blaster, M-15." He did so unquestioningly. It was a sleek weapon, as compact as a pistol, but with a lot more whack to it. "Now run, run as fast as you can into the wilderness. Try to avoid me shooting you. Zig-zag and give it a real effort, like you are running for your life!"

"Yes, ma'm." The robot complied. It took off at an incredible speed, and Sheila used his blaster trying to peck him off. She shot close to its feet, but missed, then she tried again, and the energy blast passed just over its head. Finally, she nailed it, and M-15 blew up into thousands of parts, scattering all over the splotchy ground.

And still, the other robots paid no attention to the incident. Sheila cheered. "Yaay! Did you see that, Osmo?! I plugged him with my third shot! I'm getting pretty good at robot hunting. See if you can beat me."

She handed the weapon to the stunned Osmo. "Whaa-aaah?? You just killed it. I can't believe what I just saw. I don't want to kill them for no reason!"

She frowned at him. "What are you talking about, Osmo? They aren't even alive, and anyway, they don't care if they get killed."

"Oh, come now, the instinct for survival is a very strong instinct. I've done some bad things already in my short life, but, to tell you frankly, this is too cruel for my tastes. I thought when you said we were going robot hunting, you meant we were going on a hunting expedition with some robots in our hunting party, to help catch the quarry."

Now Sheila looked stunned. "What fun is that? And why would you be willing to kill an animal that's alive, but you can't shoot a robot that is not alive?"

"Well... they can think!" he protested. "I am sure they don't want to die."

She called over another robot. "Tell me, does it bother you if we shoot you and kill you?"

"Not at all, ma'm, if by my destruction I am serving you," answered the robot. "That is my main purpose in life, to serve humanity. It is that which makes a robot happy, and satisfied, if a robot can be said to experience happiness."

Osmo tried to comprehend the concept. "Doesn't it bother you that you will cease to exist, unless, and which I doubt, there is a robot heaven, or some sort of robot afterlife--"

"Why should it bother a robot if it ceases to exist? If we stop existing, we won't know it. So why should that be anything to concern us? And if there is some sort of afterlife, then I hope dead robots go to a place where we can continue to serve and obey humans. Maybe the souls of dead humans? Now that would be what I have heard called heaven."

Osmo turned to Sheila. "Didn't your uncle station them here for a purpose? They are on patrol, guarding Sparkle City. And you said that supplies on Hope are rather short. Is it wise?"

"True, but this is my only vice. Sometimes you have to grab life by the horns and enjoy it. Besides, from what are the robots guarding us?" She waved her arm toward the wilderness beyond the city.

"From rocks and stones? From a whacky miner? We have Eaters positioned at the mines to keep the miners there at the mines. I think we can spare a robot or two."

Osmo pondered the matter. "Okay, then, I guess. I am convinced." He took the blaster from the robot and told the robot with whom he had been talking, "Okay, your turn. Run for it. Give me a challenge!" He also told Sheila, "You use your blaster, and let's see who can shoot it first."

"Oh, you want a contest? Okay, you're on!"

The robot sped away from them. He proved harder to kill than M-15, and Osmo felt embarrassed that a stupid robot gave him such a hard time. He tried and tried again. Sheila also tried and failed. This robot was really good!

A security car pulled up while they played the game. "Uh oh," said Sheila. "Trouble." She put down her blaster and advised her companion, "Knock it off, the long arm of the law is here."

Caught up in the game, Osmo paid her no mind. He continued shooting. Osmo managed to wing the robot just as Sec. Ldr. Clyden lumbered over from the car, choking on rage. "What are you doing? What are you doing?" His fury got Osmo's attention.

Osmo put the gun down, looking like the kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. The robot continued to run about, however, until Clyden yelled at it to stop acting like a nitwit and go back to patrol. It did, without its weapon.

"Give it back its blaster," Clyden snarled at Osmo, who sheepishly obeyed.

Clyden stormed at Sheila, "Don't you have any sense? Why are you letting him shoot robots? And I am pretty sure this isn't the first time you went robot hunting; I've noticed some have been missing lately. You are wasting our resources! You know Earth never wants to send us anything. It's good I came out today to check on the patrol."

She glared at him. "Oh, what's the big deal? So we shoot a few robots, so what?"

"The big deal is we are short on parts. Very short. We lack enough chips for robot repair. Robots do more than butler and patrol. We use them in environment engineering and maintenance. We use them to guard the miners, so we can get our daily quota of energy fuel. I am going to give Gov. Xavier a report on this incident. I am sure he will be very displeased. And no one wants your uncle displeased."

"Oh, you're no fun, Sec. Ldr. Clyden," Sheila meekly complained.

"And you aren't responsible or mature," Clyden snapped back. He turned to Osmo. "And you, you are even worse. Sheila, you must not become like this fellow. One could not find a less desirable character with whom to keep company. I've heard about this Osmo. I read up on his antics. He is a bad influence. He will bring out your most childish side! Why don't you go back to Earth and your rich daddy, Osmo Martin?"

Clyden stomped over to the patrolling robots and they fell in line for inspection.

Osmo and Sheila just looked at each other, and then burst into quiet laughter. "I don't think he likes me very much," said Osmo flippantly.

"Yeah, I noticed. It's good you are my friend and my uncle wants nothing to spoil your good time here during your visit to the World of Hope. Otherwise you should be concerned. Clyden isn't someone you want to make your enemy."

"Oh, look at me, I am so scared," Osmo joked.

He saw she didn't have his cavalier attitude. "You should be. Watch him and stay close to me, Osmo, for your own good."

Something in Sheila's voice made him realize she meant it in all seriousness. He tried to make light of it anyway. "Okay, if you want that, you bet I'll stay close to you."

"Oh, you!"

Dissatisfaction

Despite the fact that Osmo and Sheila stood them up, Albert and Jane still enjoyed the beach. Truth to tell, Jane thought they enjoyed their time alone more with the absence of Mr. Wonderful. Mita, on the other hand, only stayed another fifteen minutes when it became clear Osmo had other plans.

Albert and Jane didn't have the beach to themselves; tourists crowded the shoreline. Nevertheless, Jane found it so much roomier. Probably because Osmo's ego didn't blot out the alien sun, its rays being soaked up by the crowds.

Albert relaxed, watching the surf wash the sand. When he grew bored, he and Jane found a volleyball game and joined in without Osmo. These guys could play, and hard! They tired Albert and Jane, and yet, like Osmo, they couldn't beat Albert.

Afterward, as they sipped drinks at an old trailer-sized concession stand setting in the sand, Jane complimented Albert on his playing, her eyes bright from marveling at his skills. "I thought you were going to pop that ball, the way you were hitting it over the net."

"I can't help it. I play to win. Why play if you don't mean it? Too bad Osmo didn't show. He can usually give me some competition, before I squash him. Maybe that's why he didn't- to avoid embarrassment. These other guys were good, too, but Osmo really gives me a challenge."

She agreed, saying, "I must admit, Osmo is good at the game. But you are better." Then a thought occurred to her, causing her to laugh.

"What's tickling your funny bone, Jane?"

"I know I'm not much of a theologian, Albert, or anything like that, but that sermon this morning- yikes! I don't even call that a sermon. I think the preacher should adopt your philosophy- 'Why play if you don't mean it?' Why preach if you don't mean it."

"So, you don't think the preacher meant what he said?"

"Of course not. Do you?"

"Well, I have to say, I don't think he was very serious about teaching the people about God, that's for sure," Albert parsed. "But he seemed serious about praising the governor and the state, however. I found the whole service rather dissatisfying, very disappointing, and rather disturbing. He really seemed not to talk much about God. And whoever heard of edited Bibles?"

"Hey, maybe he did talk about god. His god. Maybe the government is his god, huh?" Jane suggested.

There was a commotion behind the counter. In the back, an older woman complained, "Now how did that buffalo get in here? It must be a wild one- Yikes, it's charging!"

Jane and Albert watched the creature run at the middle-aged woman from a corner of the small room behind the customer counter. She nimbly side-stepped it and yanked a mixing bowl on top of it, trapping it. "That should hold it! These hybrids can be pests when they attack in great numbers, but by themselves, they are easy to take care of. And very tasty. The scientists may have found a way to reduce their size and make them prolific, but they kept the taste in these new buffalo!"

The tiny animal, trapped under the bowl, could be heard bashing the sides of the bowl, trying to free itself.

"You have quick hands," said Albert. "You could have been on our volleyball team."

The middle-aged woman behind the counter gave a laugh. "Sorry, my volleyball days are over. This stand tires me enough as it is." It was obvious she had no helper with her at the stand, so she had to do everything. The lady came over and refilled Albert's iced water. "You two tourists enjoying our little planet?"

"Well, it's a nice place to visit," said Albert. "We are celebrating finishing our schooling. But I don't know if it is a nice place to live. I see a lot of tired faces around town. Not just yours."

"Thanks for the compliment. Just what a girl wants to hear."

Jane punched Albert's arm. "Next time think before you speak!"

In a lowered voice, the counter lady said, "We citizens no longer have that sense of optimism that we first had when we migrated here. Honestly, this world has failed to live up to its name. At least for us who moved here. I guess whether on Earth or on this rock, God seems to be telling us something, maybe, about the human condition, for it seems life is hard for almost everyone everywhere."

Jane agreed. "I noticed that, too."

The woman, whose badge read Kelli, continued, in even quieter tones, "And our state chaplains are no help. They can't give any light on how to be happy. I know you know what I mean, 'cause I just heard you folks critiquing the church service. The blind leading the blind."

"Yeah, too bad." Albert shrugged. "Well, what can you do? I guess the congregation needs a little spark of fire from God... maybe that would help things. But I don't mean to judge and criticize. I am merely a visitor. Now when I was a kid, the preacher at the church we went to- Now that man could preach!"

"We all can use a little spark of fire from God, all through our lives, until we reach that bright morning," sighed Kelli, somewhat joylessly. "Most of us common people lack much of a quality of life these days. Too much minding our business from the government. Too much regulation, and mandatory walking the line, so to speak. Many of the staff of the governor also suffer from malaise. That's why the government encourages attending those state-approved services, to try and control that dissatisfaction with the way the governor runs the show. He thinks that religious leaders can brainwash the people into believing what he does is God's will, and God's will also is that we dare not question Gov. Bright. And this will make us happy. He's gotten a lot worse since his sister died, may she rest in peace. Only God can keep us from letting the disappointment wear us out."

"Wow." Jane found it depressing to listen to this woman, but she and Albert stayed and talked. "So now we get a glimpse behind the scenes on the World of Hope."

"Yah," Kelli agreed.

Albert had had no idea how the citizens viewed life here. "You don't see that in the news."

"Of course not. Gov. Bright makes sure a cheerful spin is put on the news, so that Earth thinks we are all having a good time here. He doesn't want Earth to kick him out of his position. He says he does what he does for our own good. I have to admit, though, at least he fights Earth about how they shortchange us. He is right about that. The Earth Leaders are always finding ways to cheat us on our proceeds for the fuel ore. I suppose maybe he really believes everything that he does, he does for us. Me, personally, I prefer more freedom, not so much dictatorship. I prefer to worship the way I think God wants me to worship. And I certainly think it is wrong to censor the Bible."

Albert listened and wished he were able to do something for the people- Who wouldn't want to help after hearing Kelli's stories of oppression and poverty? However, he was only a visitor. All he could do is to try to have what fun he could while his vacation lasted, and once back home maybe he could call attention to the trouble here, whatever it was exactly that Kelli found so dispiriting.

"I heard in times past, the saints of old leaned on God for strength. But how can anyone draw strength from such a worship service like the one we went to this morning?" wondered Jane.

"Gov. Bright doesn't have a monopoly on worship services," answered Kelli. "He wants to, but he doesn't"

Albert nodded knowingly. "Underground churches, then, that don't get or meet the approval of the state, like when the Christians met in the catacombs under the city during persecution."

"Kind of like that."

Albert told Jane, "I think we should have gone there this morning, to the underground church. No doubt a much more edifying service. We wasted our Sunday morning with the service we sat through."

"Almost slept through it," admitted Jane.

"There should be a service there tonight time, if you're interested," said Kelli. "You're more than welcome to attend."

"Oh? Where?" Albert politely asked.

Other customers were coming over now, calling out orders to Kelli. She scribbled something on Albert's napkin and asked, "Will there be anything else, sir? Ma'm?"

"No, that's all, thank you," replied Albert. He put the napkin in his pocket and forgot about it while Kelli tended to the new customers.

Enviro-Gen

Sunday afternoon. The McCleers discussed that morning's sermon in their suite at the governor's mansion as George waited for Sec. Ldr. Clyden to return two hours later after dropping them off at the large Governor's House, to pick up George and take him to meet Gov. Bright at one of the environment generator stations. The Enviro-Gens worked round the clock, spaced at various strategic locations around the planet, manufacturing and maintaining habitable, Earth-type zones.

Immediately after church, Xavier had left for a meeting with his information bureau (propaganda department), so Clyden took the McCleers back to the mansion, promising to fetch George for the tour of the climate factory at the scheduled time, about 2 o'clock. Xavier had said once again that he wanted George to see with his own eyes how the Earth's constant short-changing of the World of Hope kept life difficult for all people here, and how much the governor and his people had to struggle to keep their world functioning. Despite all their hardships, they managed, though, the governor boasted. The environment engines continued changing the nearby landscape for the inhabitants, although the Enviro-Gens were not nearly as efficient as they could be, with proper supplies from Earth, according to Xavier.

George checked his watch. "Sec. Ldr. Clyden's man must be almost outside by now. See you later, love."

"Okay, then, have a good time. George." She kissed him as he headed out the door. "Don't worry, hon, I won't be bored. I have X-9 here to keep me company. Right, X-9?"

"Yes, ma'm," the robot affirmed, not understanding the true nature of her remarks.

George promised, "When Xavier wants to show me the college, you can come with to Sparkle College. It'll make us feel nostalgic, for sure. But the Enviro-Gen's not any more exciting than being here waiting for me, I am sure."

"Take care. You know the rumors about loose Eaters in the wildlands."

By the time George got outside, Xavier's car was pulling up. Agent Samm drove. Samm stopped and George got in the car. While he drove George, Samm offered very little conversation, except to offer that this particular Enviro-Gen operated on the fringe of the city, but out past the farming acres, near the sea. George tried to find out what Agent Samm thought of Gov. Bright, how Samm enjoyed his job, anything that might give George more insight into his old "friend" Xavier, but Agent Samm was not much of a conversationalist.

The trip took little time, since any speed limits that might be on the highway did not apply to the governor or to the Security Agency. When they arrived, Xavier already stood there at the entrance to the Enviro-Gen waiting for him, with Sec. Ldr. Clyden by his side. Xavier politely welcomed George, but George noted that Xavier lacked the warmth which he always displayed around and toward Nina.

Seeing the Enviro-Gen, George thought it resembled a mini-nuclear energy plant in appearance, with a small-scale version of those massive plume-spewing smoke stacks. These stacks vented gases to enhance the harvests on the farms, and to increase the growth of oxygen-producing plants at the forest in the desert. A pair of robots guarded the entrance to the factory.

Xavier commented, "I hope you don't find as much fault here as you did at church, especially considering what we do here is very important work."

George replied, "Probably I won't, unless I have to sit through another sermon like the one delivered this morning."

Xavier didn't crack a smile. He stepped aside and motioned for George to go first. "After you, George."

George proceeded inward, with the governor and the security leader following, but Agent Samm stayed outside with the vehicle.

Inside, several technicians milled about various posts, reading gauges, recording data on clipboards, pressing buttons, pulling levers, etc. In the circular main chamber, banks of instruments crowded the walls, from the floor to the ceiling.

A supervisor greeted the visitors. "Good afternoon. It is always an honor to see you, Gov. Bright."

Xavier returned polite greetings and introduced George. "Earth sent Mr. McCleer, because the leaders want to know exactly what we are doing on our world with all the abundance they send us. If you will be so kind as to detail to Mr. McCleer what exactly is the task of the Enviro-Gen, and all it entails, it will be most enlightening for Mr. McCleer and Earth, I hope."

"Of course, sir." He turned to George and escorted him throughout the environment factory, into adjacent rooms, explaining and showing him robots doing routine work with hazardous chemicals behind safety glass. Meanwhile the governor kept several paces behind the supervisor and George. Clyden stuck by Xavier. These two talked in subdued tones.

"And the robots didn't even protest?

"

"No, Gov. Xavier, because Sheila is your charge, so to them it is almost as if it is you giving the order."

The governor shook his bewildered head. "And so they let her hunt them. I appreciate the robot's loyalty and obedience, but I cannot believe a thinking creature, even a robot, can be so stupid."

Clyden pressed the matter. "We- our world- is critically short on resources, and Sheila is wasting them! That Osmo Martin is a terrible influence. I know she is undisciplined enough on her own, but now, with him around, she is even worse. Send him back to Earth is what I think!"

"I only met him at the rocketport, but I do know of his reputation for trouble on Earth. Maybe I should get to know him better. He is, after all, a companion of my niece. I can find out just who is badly influencing whom."

Xavier looked over to see what George and the supervisor were doing. The technician was saying, "We need more so that we can increase the range of our habitable zones. If we can stretch out the friendlier environments more and more across the world, we can alleviate the awful crowding in Sparkle city. We have a few resorts outside the city, but they are based on a less pleasant climate, such as winter and skiing. But most citizens do not want to live like that year round. We have the forest, but in the forest it can get very hot and humid, like a tropical jungle on Earth. We hope one day to make our friendly climates larger and self-sustaining."

"So you think one day the Enviro-Gens will change the climate so much that the climate will reach a point where the Enviro-Gens are not even needed?"

"It is feasible. But, like always, our problem is: not enough of what we need!"

"Hmm. Let me see if I can be of any help. Can you show me your logbooks?" George asked.

"Of course. Right this way, Mr. McCleer-" Only too late did the man notice the glare from the governor. Oops, he almost volunteered confidential information without approval from the proper authorities. Bad mistake for his career. "Oh, that's right. I am afraid we are doing archival maintenance and updating, so, unfortunately, those records aren't available at the moment."

"Really? Too bad. When will they be available?" George inquired.

"Um, ah-"

Xavier interrupted them. "George, we know what we are doing with the supplies we have. The stuff that we don't have is the problem. We need more chemicals, more circuit parts, more everything. Is that so hard to understand?

"

"Oh, okay. I thought maybe you missed something that I could catch. After all, it is all fresh to me. Sometimes it helps to get an outsider to objectively view the problem."

Very annoyed, Xavier refused to offer any books for George to see. "Can't be done, George, and this is the reason why. Since we don't have the equipment, we are unable to do our archiving the proper procedural way. It may take a lot longer than normal. There's no telling when I can comply with your request."

"Oh, is that it, then, is it?"

"Yes, George, that's it."

"Okay. Well, you will let me know as soon as the books are available, right?"

"As soon as they are available," promised Xavier.

The supervisor next guided George over to witness how rusty some of the important canisters of gas were which fed into the engines, and how they needed replacing. Xavier fell behind again with his right hand man.

Out of earshot, Xavier whispered, "That McCleer is becoming a problem, as I knew he would."

"Yes, sir," agreed Clyden. "Do you want me to do something about him?"

"Not yet. I think, though, in time we shall have to deal with him."

The Wise Man

B-12 loaded the catapult and let fly another glowing clay pigeon. Xavier took aim with the pistol-type blaster and zapped it into dust when it reached its flight apex. "Very good shooting, Gov. Xavier," Clyden congratulated his boss.

"It pays for a leader to keep in shape and able to defend himself," Xavier answered. "Well, look who it is!" Xavier spotted the McCleers coming across the back field past his mansion and heading over to the shooting range. "I didn't expect you to show up, George."

"Why not?"

Xavier shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you might have thought me uncooperative at the environment-generator this afternoon. I thought maybe I got your nose out of joint."

Nina, hanging onto her husband's arm, smiled. "Xavier, it is not the first time we've found you uncooperative. Besides, George knows I am getting tired of being cooped up in our suite."

"Oh, that's nice. George is so considerate," Xavier teased.

"Yes, I am. Besides, I had made plans with you to meet you here tonight, remember? You know I like to keep my commitments. My word is my bond."

"Okay then, I guess it's your turn," said Xavier, handing George the blaster. "As you use this, just think about how blasters could not have been developed without the technology made possible by the fuel ore that comes from our humble little world."

"Certainly."

Clyden ordered the robot to launch another bird. While George concentrated on the flying target, Xavier focused on Nina, talking cheerily with her."I am glad you came, Nina. If I can help keep your trip to our wonderful world from getting boring, by all means, let me know, and I will try to keep it exciting," the governor graciously offered, "I guess being around George all day can get a little dull."

His slight jibe annoyed George, and threw off his aim. George missed the clay pigeon by a hair. The energy blast shot past it, to dissipate harmlessly in the dusk sky.

Xavier chuckled. "Oh oh, George, I am surprised at you, I guess you've gotten rusty since college. I hope your aim isn't so rusty in everything these days."

Nina quickly replied, "I assure you, there's nothing wrong with George's aim where it counts."

Xavier tried to hide how annoyed he now became as Nina defended her husband, but his irritation managed to slip through his poker mask by way of his perturbed tone. "Well, that's good to know, Nina. George, if you ever need any help-"

George gritted his teeth, tempted to whack him..

Clyden changed the flow of conversation, getting tired of this silliness. He found it very undignified for the governor to be acting this way, like a jealous schoolboy. "Here comes Sheila. Oh great, look who she's brought with her."

Sheila led Osmo over the grass to the tiny group. Osmo looked a bit sheepish because of this afternoon's incident, but it was obvious it wouldn't keep him from having a good time.

Xavier hushed his security man. "I told Sheila to invite him. Like I said earlier, I think it is a good idea for me to get to know him better. Especially since I am footing his bill at the Hope Hotel."

After introducing the McCleers to Osmo, the governor kidded, "We are shooting only clay birds. Perhaps you will show us what you can do? I know this isn't the same as robot hunting, Mr. Martin, but I hope you can appreciate that we can't kill all our robots on foolish whims."

"Oh, um, yeah, about that- sorry..." said Osmo.

Xavier burst out in mirth. "Oh, come on, Osmo. I may call you Osmo, right? I was young once, too. Besides, I know my niece is a bad influence on an upstanding young fellow like you."

"No, sir, she influences me for good," protested Osmo. "She scolds me when I drink too much. Maybe I will cut back when we are out having a good time, I guess."

"Why, Sheila, you're mom would be proud to hear that you are an influence for good. But tell me, you two, where are the others you were going to bring? I thought you had some friends of yours who came with you on vacation."

Osmo didn't know where they were. "Maybe Albert and Jane were mad because I stood them up at the beach when we went robot hunting. When I got back tonight, they were nowhere around." Osmo chuckled. " I hope they aren't still at the beach waiting for us."

George inquired, "Don't you think now that you are a young man, you should act a bit more responsibly? I remember you acting like a spoiled kid on the rocket. If you told them to meet you at the beach-"

"Nonsense, George," Xavier contradicted. "Let me get this straight- You stood up your pals because you and Sheila had better plans, correct? Ah, that was the smart move, Osmo. Why shouldn't you break a commitment, if a better opportunity presents itself? I suppose the McCleers may not agree with me. I hope you think coming here and meeting Sheila's uncle is at least somewhat a worthwhile way to spend your time tonight,unless a better opportunity comes up. I know it is not as exciting as going robot hunting, but I hope at least Sheila didn't have to drag you here."

"Not at all, sir," Osmo answered. "I wanted to meet you. She's told me so many good things about you. If you are only half as wise as Sheila says, I hope I can learn from you. After all, you lead this planet. One day I will lead my father's business, so I should learn how to inspire people. Of course, at the moment I want to enjoy myself. I don't want to tie myself down to working for my father just yet."

Sheila said, "Osmo, I may have told you some of the great things my uncle has done, but if I am going to be able to give you an accurate picture of Uncle, I should have to tell you twice as many more wonderful things as I have."

George and Nina almost gagged. Yikes!

"Your father also is a great leader," said Xavier. "From time to time I have marginal dealings with him. Mostly, though, I only deal with the committee that tries to run this world by proxy. George, give Osmo the blaster. Let's see how good he is at hitting that thing."

Clyden grumbled to himself at how the governor behaved so cordially to Osmo, but he said nothing aloud. Osmo didn't have Clyden fooled, though. The head of security told B-12 to fire another clay target into the air.

Osmo blasted it into a million pieces. "Ya-hoo! Bull's eye!"

Sheila beamed. "Why, Osmo, I didn't know you were so handy with a blaster! You're better tonight with the pigeon than you were with the robot. I guess now when I'm with you, I can relax. I am sure I will be well-protected!"

"You have nothing to fear, as long as I am here, Sheila," pledged Osmo. "Anyone who just looks at you cross-eyed, he will answer to me!"

"Great, that's just great," Xavier cheered him on. "Isn't Osmo a great kid- oh, I mean, isn't Osmo a great man, Sec.Ldr. Clyden? Don't you think he shows signs of being a leader?"

"Yeah, he's just marvelous," Clyden answered unenthusiastically. "A regular Alexander the Great."

The governor shook Osmo's hand. "I am pleased to see my niece finds you fun to be around. It makes me happy to know if you are about, you are willing to protect her and her honor, and that you won't let anybody insult her. That is very important, to protect the woman you love. Isn't that important, George? Like if somebody disrespects her and hits on her right in your very presence-"

"It's very important," said George. "But sometimes what some people might regard as an insult from someone turns out to be merely a man speaking his unfulfilled fantasies, a man who turns out to be no serious matter at all, because the man isn't nearly as important as he thinks he is. There's a lesson for you, Mr. Martin. Probably your father already told you this. Some foolish people just aren't worth your time responding to."

Xavier found this humorous. "Oh, George, I know you don't mean that. What kind of a man would say that, unless he was a coward, or he no longer loved his woman that he was supposed to protect from dishonor and disrespect?"

"You make sense, Gov. Xavier," said Sec. Ldr. Clyden, thinking of Gazelle.

Nina said nothing, curious to see what answer her husband would give.

George told them, "A wise man doesn't have to answer every dog that barks."

"Oh, are we talking now of dogs? Haha, we must watch even the dogs, then, in case we underestimate them, and they turn out to be wild and bite us!" Xavier jibed.

"I guess if it comes to that, then, if the dog turns out to be mad, it must be put down," sighed George. "It's a sad story that happens over and over again throughout history, and it always ends the same."

Late Night Meeting

Albert and Jane sat on some old, rickety chairs at the back of the small room in a small building. They had a hard time finding this place, because the street lamps were not all lit- half of them no longer had bulbs. The house sat in the midst of a very congested neighborhood. Either because of the late hour, or because few could afford cars or taxis, the streets were thin of traffic. Still, trying to find unmarked streets and places in the dark was very hard.

But then- "See, we located it," Jane had told him finally. "That means we're supposed to attend tonight. It looks like the building Kelli described on that napkin she had scribbled upon."

"Yeah, right; it must be a miracle of sorts that we could find the meeting place with hardly any light," answered Albert tongue-in-cheek.

When they knocked at the dingy apartment, someone at the door ushered them into the badly lit room where people were greeting each other and also greeting more who were arriving. Most were adults, but there were a goodly number of adolescents and some children, too.

Kelli O'Mally, the counter lady from the beach, moved amongst the people, greeting and shaking hands all over the room. She worked her way over to Albert and Jane. "Oh, you came. Good, I am glad you did. I feared you might not even be able to find us, since you aren't familiar with the streets of Sparkle City, being from Earth and all."

"I almost didn't come," Albert confessed, "especially when I saw, under the address you wrote on my napkin, the late time for the meeting."

"It gives us all time to get here after our jobs and such, and this way we don't compete with the governor's church."

Jane said, "I made him come here.

Albert explained, "I told Jane, since we'll be heading back to Earth after only a few weeks, why come to a service where it's so hard to find the place in the dark, so out-of-the way, when we probably will never see any of you again. So she asked, Then why did you bother to get the address in the first place? Besides, if people come late at night, at an inconvenient hour, with the threat of being oppressed by the government, as we assume, since you spoke in discrete tones- well, if you guys are so committed to worshiping God, then Jane figures the service might be decent and sincere, that it will be good for us to check it out tonight."

"Well, I hope you find our meeting worth you time," Kelli said. "Ah, I think Brother Simon Kaul is getting ready to speak." She found a chair near where the two Earthlers sat and gave her attention to a young man in front carrying an unapproved-by-the-state Bible as he walked up to the lectern set up in the middle of the floor. The others sat in chairs or stood in a circle around the lectern.

A hush fell over the meeting room as Bro. Simon began. First, he prayed for God's blessings on them all, on the visitors, on their World of Hope, and on their leaders- and maybe God would open the eyes of their leaders, so that they may see that what might seem expedient is not always right. Simon asked for protection and strength for Bro. Billy Bob, wherever he was, which was most likely at the mines. Next, the congregation sang a hymn, but quietly, so as to not disturb the neighbors who might be trying to sleep at this hour. (However, many of the nearby neighbors were here at the services,.)

Simon said, "Oppression is nothing new for humanity, and especially for the people of God. Remember how David's life was full of hardship and oppression. Read the Psalms to get an idea of how it affected him. Now we face troubles because- not because our world is short of necessities, and our economy is stretched to breaking, but because our authorities want to control us. With our world facing such difficulties, our leaders mistakenly think the answer is to regulate and command almost everything we do, where we go. They believe that this is the way to keep things running smoothly, by strictly monitoring our lives. They think the real Good News of Jesus is too much of an unpredictable uncertainty. And they are right. But they think that uncertainty is a bad thing. They won't trust God. So they even want to give us rules on how to follow our religion. And they think religion should be a force for encouraging the masses to submit blindly to their leadership. Some of our loved ones have disappeared, and we think they were taken to the mines. We prefer to follow God the way we think He is leading us, not the way our leaders tells us we should follow God. The government dislikes that independence, although we are far from independent. We are very dependent- on God. But they prefer we depend on them for everything..."

Albert whispered to Kelli, "If life is so hard on this world, and Gov. Bright curtails your freedoms, why do you people stay? Why not simply return to Earth?"

"Many reasons," Kelli whispered back. "Most of us struggle just to meet our needs. We don't have much left to save for a return ticket on the rocket back. And the leaders take their time to issue migration permits, because they want to keep our numbers many. It makes us look stronger. And it gives them more people to draft for working on the farms. And then the government can deny life is so hard when Earth looks into complaints. Why do so many of us stay, they ask, if life is so bad here? But also, the main reason most of us stay is because this is now our world. We helped make Sparkle City a genuine city. We wish to make it a better city. We don't want to pick up and leave, deserting our fellow citizens. We want to be the salt of the Earth, er, of the World of Hope."

"Oh. I guess I can see that," said Albert.

Jane asked Albert to please be quiet so she could hear Bro. Simon.

"Yes, ma'm."

The preacher spoke of the need to be always reading the Bible- the so-called contraband version, not a government approved Bible-while seeking God's direction.

Bro. Simon read from the Bible, the World English Bible, from the book of Romans. He read, "...all have sinned, and fall short of the glory of God..." Then he added, "All of us here have sinned. But God is a holy God. He has to deal with sins that people do. Uh oh. It gets worse. The letter to the Romans has more bad news." Bro. Simon flipped a few pages and read, "...the wages of sin is death..." The preacher frowned. Suddenly, he brightened, "But wait- Here's some good news!"

Simon quoted a passage from the gospel of John." For God so loved the world, that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish, but have eternal life." Bro. Simon smiled to the congregation. "Okay, that's a good thing. Let me complete also that other verse I had read for you in Romans-" Once more he turned pages. "For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord."

"Amen, Bro. Simon," exclaimed a few people.

Bro. Simon nodded. "Amen, indeed. However, just to remind you all, we must believe and accept the gift, or it does us no good. If someone gives you a present, it does you no good if you don't accept it from him. He will not force you to take it. Also, to make things clear, there isn't any other way for humans to deal with sin, to receive forgiveness so that you are able to stand before God." He again read from John, "Jesus said to him, "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father, except through me."

"The Apostle Paul wrote in his first letter to the Corinthians..." More page turning. "Now I declare to you, brothers, the Good News which I preached to you, which also you received, in which you also stand, by which also you are saved, if you hold firmly the word which I preached to you—unless you believed in vain. For I delivered to you first of all that which I also received: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. Then he appeared to over five hundred brothers at once, most of whom remain until now, but some have also fallen asleep. Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles, and last of all, as to the child born at the wrong time, he appeared to me also."

Simon closed the Bible. "Jesus says he stands at the door and knocks. The door of your heart. If you never opened the door to invite him in, I tell you it is most important that you do. If you already did, but are now being a bad, negligent host of your heart, as it were, and paying Him no mind, I urge you to return your attention to the Good Lord, to be a good host and even to let him take over your heart and your life, and to be a good servant for the One Who suffered and died on the cross just for you... and for me... and for all of us."

Bro. Simon spoke some more about spiritual matters, and at last wrapped up the sermon by telling them, "I am not saying this applies to any one here, but remember, after David became king, he finally had some ease. And what happened? He fell into trouble. The Bath-Sheba shameful event happened. Sometimes if we have it too easy, we get into trouble. So, let's not be too quick to complain when we do have hardships."

Albert thought of his own life of ease, and how he and Osmo had often gotten into foolish trouble because they had little hardship to give them a sense of priorities, and they developed scant self- discipline in life. But these people here, they didn't have time for such foolishness. And they tried to make their lives count, God's way.

Afterward, as everybody shook hands and said good-byes to each other, Kelli said to Albert and Jane, "I hope you found our service edifying."

Albert admitted, "It got me thinking. I prayed the sinner's prayer long ago, but it seems I have drifted from God's will along the way. I wasted my years in school in foolishness with Osmo. And I never gave a thought to how hard it is for folks who lack money. I am not so acquainted with being in need. And yet, I see most of you seem to be lacking, but yet you appear to harbor a happiness of some kind, a joy, little or no bitterness, and I find such an attitude interesting and refreshing. I think Bro. Simon makes me consider my life..."

"Good for you," said Kelli.

"A life unexamined is a life wasted, so the saying goes," Jane added. "Now what will you do about it, Al?"

College Days

George kept his word and brought Nina along to visit Sparkle College. A taxi dropped them off at the campus. Nina hung onto her husband's arm as they strolled along the campus, amidst the young students, campus Security Agents, and robots. And she remembered...

"Xavier declined to join us. Too many other matters needing his attention, per the governor himself," George said.

"That's okay. I know Xavier and I had had some good times at college when we were young, but I guess there are a lot of bad memories for him as well. Maybe that's why he is too busy to join us. I didn't think he cared anymore about it, about us. In fact, I didn't think he even cared about it at the time... Maybe I misjudged him. What if he really did care, and so he can't stand being on a campus with me and you, while it makes him remember? But that is all in the past. Topic change: I am bored with X-9's company at our suite when you leave me on your touring of this little world. It's good to be here with you, hon."

George laughed and assured her, "So far, my tour of this little world has been quite dull as well. You know how it is, going over the technical bean counting and such."

A campus guide robot walked over to meet them. "You must be Mr. and Mrs. McCleer. I am D-4. Dean Hart sent me to be your guide when Gov. Bright asked the dean to show you two around. What would you like to see first?"

"Oh, yippie," George cheered. "Just what we need- another robot. Just give us the grand tour of the campus, first of all."

"Be nice, dear, even if it is 'only' a robot."

Maybe Nina had said she would change the topic, but she- and George- couldn't stop their minds from going back to those days on Earth at Hooper College. Seeing all those posters of Xavier on almost all the walls of Sparkle College's buildings didn't help them not think of him and the past, either.

"I wonder if Xaveir even knows what the word 'modest' means," said Nina. "I thought he said they have such short supplies on this planet. He sure can find enough paper to make posters of himself."

"As long as I've known him, I've never seen evidence to suggest that he does know what 'modest' means, hon."

"What was it like to share a dorm room with Xavier?"

"Haha, it was terrible. When I first got there, I introduced myself, and then, when I dumped my stuff on the floor, he immediately showed me which was his territory, and which was mine, and to move my stuff to the appropriate spot. He also told me he did not tolerate mess. He figured everything should be his way. His way was better than anyone else's way, because, after all, he is smarter than anyone else. At least he doesn't carry on quite that badly these days while we stay in his mansion."

"He never acted like such an ogre to me."

"I thought we were changing the topic, anyway," reminded George.

"Yes, of course. Besides, as a rule, we never talk about my dates with him. I can see that it might upset you."

"Not really. I just prefer to respect Xavier's privacy in the matter."

"And you also respect his sister's privacy, Selina's? Because you never tell me much about your dates with her."

"Ah, not much to tell. I'd just about had it with Xavier's arrogance, and his always telling me how to organize our room, how long to spend in the shower, what kind of soap I should use- It was my own soap, for cryin' out loud- when one day Selina visited her brother, and I was there, and he introduced us. It was love at first sight. I immediately asked her out. I don't know how Xavier liked that, but I didn't care. Being with her made me forgive Xavier, and almost enjoy having him for a room-mate. After all, I figured, anyone with a sister like Selina can't be all bad."

She perked her eyebrows. "Oh? Then what happened? This should be interesting."

"Well, on one date, she confided to me that she worried about her brother. She said he didn't really get out much, despite all his flirting. If he ever did date, Xavier never took his date seriously. She wanted us to bring him along to meet a blind date, some friend of hers, a girl so likable, maybe even Xavier would like her."

"Oh. This is where I came in." Nina smiled. "She told me about her brother, what a nice guy he was. He really was, except he was so stubborn about so many things, and always right about anything and everything."

"I remember when Xavier and I were waiting for you girls at the movies. He kept complaining all the time we waited about how he hated blind dates, but he only went along with meeting you to make his sister happy. Well, then Selina and you showed up, and I don't know if Xavier felt like I did, but during the night, as I heard you talk, I decided I wanted to marry you!"

"But what about your love at first sight with Selina?"

"Oh, that? You don't really believe in love at first sight, do you? If it exists, does it last like real love? And, after meeting you, I became distracted while with Selina. She sensed I had drifted away, and so we parted as friends."

"Friends? That's nice. It didn't go as well with me and Xavier. Like I said, he treated me very well. He was always bringing me roses. He made sure to bring me roses for our dates. I guess he supposed a woman always wanted roses. But I never felt like he really wanted me. At least not me for me. It seemed like he kept seeing me, because, well, I hate to admit it, I somewhat admired his brain at the time. I still do, of course, but there's more to a man than a brain. I think it flattered his ego to be so admired. But after awhile, I began to realize my point of view was just as valid as his, and that it didn't have to be that he was the only one always right. This was a heretical concept, and it led to all manner of arguments, until I decided to call it quits."

D-4 showed the couple the science lab building. George nodded, saying how nice it looked, and then, as the robot continued leading them about, George returned to his talk with his wife.

"How did he take it, when you called off the big romance?"

"When I told him he was too much in love with himself, he angrily told me, Who else is worth loving? He claimed he didn't care that I wanted to see other people, and that if I wasn't the one to suggest it, he was going to be the one to tell me the exact same thing."

George stayed quiet for awhile. Then, "I had wondered what had happened to you two, when you no longer showed up to meet Xavier, and he no longer talked about you. I figured you guys split. So, when I ran into you at the bookstore, I figured it fair to ask you out, since you no longer dated my room-mate. He eventually guessed I was seeing you, but he never complained. But we grew further apart again. I had assumed he was mad because I no longer wanted to see Selina."

"I honestly thought he didn't care about our relationship, that it was all just fun for him," said Nina. "But the way he keeps pestering me since we've come here- I know at college he used to like to flirt, but not like the way he's been acting-, and now he made himself unavailable to come with us onto the college grounds and reminisce about the past, I am beginning to think there is more to Xavier than his ego. Maybe he really did care. Oh well, too late. I think I am better off with you."

"Ah, he probably is only concerned because he thought you were his claim, and he can't see you dumping him and then, horror of horrors, taking up with his handsome room-mate, who very recently had stopped dating the Brilliant One's sister. He hates to lose, and I think in some way he thinks this is a contest that he has lost."

"You don't think it is anything more than that to Xavier?"

"Even if it is, so what? If you had married him, do you think you would like having the bedroom decorated with big posters of Xavier?"

D-4 next took them to a parkway hedged in with rose bushes. "Welcome to Lovers' Garden, a special project designed by our Gov. Bright."

Catching Up

"So where do you and Jane go these days?" Osmo wanted to know. "Every time I come looking for you, to see if you guys want to come with us, I can't find you. So I go to check with Jane to see where you are, but she is also out. It's been like that almost all week."

Albert grinned. "Ah, missed me, did you?" He opened the door, inviting Osmo into his room.

Osmo shrugged. "Maybe a little, although it's hard to miss you too much, since Sheila usually finds something fun to do. You're not mad because we left you guys by yourselves at the beach on Sunday, are you?"

"You are who you are. How can I be mad? If you don't do stuff like that, you aren't Osmo."

"Hmm. I don't know if I like that. Sheila and her uncle make me see there is a serious side to life. Something my dad tried to tell me all those years I partied and got into trouble. But now that I am more mature-"

"Ha ha ha, Osmo's not growing up, is he?" teased Albert.

"Well, I am fighting it. So what have you guys been up to lately?"

"I think I am suffering the same thing as you," Albert sighed. "I am glad to hear you are growing up, too. Jane and I have been helping out where we can with some of the poorer citizens of Sparkle when we can. Did you notice how so many of the people here look unhappy? We did. Jane is volunteering at a clinic at the hospital right now. She did some volunteer work long ago on Earth. Leave it to Jane to work in a clinic while on vacation. And now I, too, am becoming like that. I am glad you are becoming serious as well. You can see how troubled these people in Sparkle City are these days because of the oppression."

"What are you talking about? Life might be a little hard for them, but I think 'oppression' is the wrong word. Oppression is what a malevolent government or a dictator does."

"I know. Coffee? Juice?"

Osmo took an apple juice. "Thanks. But Al, you think these people are being oppressed? By whom? How are they being oppressed?"

"I am telling you, my friend, it is happening. I have seen too much already. Some people just disappear. Why? Because they disagree with Gov. Bright, or make him nervous or upset. I know you and Sheila enjoy each other's company- I don't want to cause a rift between you, but I am just telling you the facts. Heck, I also remember who is footing our bills, too, Osmo-"

"Oh, that's crazy," scoffed Osmo. "Like I said, I know life is hard for the citizens here. Of course it is. This is a new settlement, hardly more than a decade old. And I know sometimes the governor is strict. What can he do? Law and order need to be maintained, after all. It's a tough environment. It requires a tough leader making tough decisions. Like in the Old West. Or maybe Jamestown even."

"I know, I know. But yet, it seems like the governor need not be so hard on these people. He seems to go overboard at times. A little more of the law, and less order. Do you know what happens to the people who disappear?"

"What?"

"They are stuck in the mines. Made miners. Don't you think that's a little harsh merely for disagreeing with Gov. Bright? Some, if they are lucky, only end up being forced labor on the farms."

Osmo dismissed his claims out of hand. "Oh, Albert, don't be so naive. Don't believe everything you hear in town. Of course some people are mad at the governor, maybe because of something that he did, that he had to do, to one of their relatives for being some kind of offender or something. Be reasonable, though. Naturally, those relatives left behind will be mad, and will stick up for their criminal family members. What is the result? They can't accept the fact that the black sheep of the family is a bad egg, so they don't blame the bad family member; instead they need to believe it is the governor who is bad. I assure you, he is a good, a wise man. I've met him. I have had dinner with him. I think he is a great man."

"Wow, you sure are buying that propaganda put out by Gov. Bright's public relations department all over town about what a great guy this Xavier Bright is. And I am sure Sheila helps you see how fantastic he is, too."

"Hey, hey, leave her out of our discussion. That's her uncle; you expect her to badmouth him, after he was the one to look out for her when her mom was killed?" He held out his glass for a refill. "She's a good one, too. She guided me into slowing down on my boozing, you know."

"Yeah, well, maybe you're right about Sheila." Albert filled more juice in his companion's glass.

Osmo said, "She's coming over to take me to the Tourist Trap again tonight. I came by to see if you and Jane want to join us. But I guess not, since Jane is out playing Mother Theresa, and you'll be stag."

"No, I'm still interested. I can use a night of fun."

"Me, too. Let's keep it fun. Don't discuss politics about her uncle while we're out, okay?"

"Okay," Albert agreed.

A half hour later, when Sheila showed up, Osmo and Albert piled into her truck, chatting about their night ahead. As she peeled out, Albert caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure in the alleyway beside the Hope Hotel. "Is that guy over there watching us?"

Osmo replied, "If I didn't know better, I'd swear he's watching ME. It looked like he'd been following me all day long. I don't know who he is. He doesn't look like someone I would want to know, either. He looks like one of those down-and-out citizens I hear so much about these days, I don't get it, why should he be following me? Must be a coincidence, unless he wants my autograph."

Albert protested. "Osmo, this might be a serious matter."

Sheila gave her thoughts on the matter. "If he is following, he'll never be able to catch up to us in this truck! Hang on!"

"Waa-hooo!" Osmo whooped as Sheila stomped on the accelerator and shot down the highway.

Meanwhile, back at the hotel, the watcher came out of the shadows. He took out a security department issue cell phone and reported, "He just left with the governor's niece. As they left the place, I overheard their plans to visit the Tourist Trap."

The Invitation

Mita Morgan once again stopped in at the Tourist Trap. She saw Osmo and Sheila sitting at a table with Albert, and she groaned inside as usual. Here she was again, all by herself on this planet in the middle of nowhere. And vacation wasn't even half over yet. Maybe she should just change her ticket and go back to Earth early. Why waste her time chasing Osmo? Maybe Jane was right- she should let go of her foolish dream. She wasn't a schoolgirl anymore... Say, where was Jane, anyway?

Albert noticed Mita, once more sitting alone. "Hey, Mita, get over here! Don't be such a snob, always sitting away from us!" he called.

"Huh? A snob-"

"Come on, join us," Albert called again.

Hesitantly, she got up and moved over to their table. "Uh, hi, everybody."

Osmo and Sheila greeted her, not very warmly, but not coldly, either.

Sheila said, "I should think old classmates like you and Osmo and Al should all sit together, especially here on a place where you know very few other people except yourselves."

"Oh, yeah, that's right," Mita half-heartedly nodded. "I guess we should sit with each other."

Sheila said, "When I was in school, I sometimes went with some classmates for company to the mall, even though they were not really pals. I mean, they were pals, but I don't think we ever connected. Not like Osmo and Al. I guess I actually didn't have many in the way of friends."

Osmo told her the way it really was between him and Albert. "We don't connect either, Sheila. It's just that we were both the best looking guys in school, so we figured, if we hung out together, we couldn't help being the ultimate chick magnets!"

Sheila laughed at that one, and Albert clarified, "Actually, the truth is, I was the chick magnet, and Osmo merely wanted to hang out with me and get my rejects."

Now Osmo let out a roar. "Hahaha, you wish, Al! For every ten that ran to me, only one ran after you!"

"Um, Al, I don't see Jane," said Mita.

Osmo kidded, "She's invisible."

"Yeah, I know how that is," said Mita.

Albert explained how Jane wanted to help out at the clinic tonight. Albert had done a shift there as well yesterday, but he didn't have Jane's drive. He wanted a break.

"But it's vacation time," Mita pointed out. "You both should be taking a break."

"We know. But we saw a need, and so we went to help. Maybe if you have some free time and are bored, maybe you want to come help also some time at the clinic."

"Um, yeah, sure. It'd sure be a change of pace."

Osmo told Albert, "Well, I'll pass going to the clinic. Sheila sees that I don't get bored."

Sec. Ldr. Clyden and Gazelle entered the place. Sheila and Osmo nodded a polite greeting to Clyden as he passed by their table. He returned the polite greeting and found a booth far from them.

Sheila stifled a guffaw. "I think he's still mad at you for taking his parking spot."

"Or because of the robots," suggested Osmo.

Albert nodded. "It looks like it's probably both bugging him. And now his parking space marked Reserved."

Over at their booth, Gazelle had news for Clyden. "Finally the Dart is cleared for the flight back home. The home base was worried they'd have to send a replacement rocket, and that they would have to abandon this one. They didn't like that. Money, you know, is very important to them. Capt. Shatner is glad. He says we can leave early tomorrow. I'll miss you, though, Tretl. I enjoyed that extra time we've had together."

"Me, too. It sure is a blessing that the Dart had that trouble that kept you stranded here with me for awhile."

Suddenly the door of the club swung open with such force that it hit the wall. In stumbled a rough looking character, obviously a bit drunk. Everybody looked at him as he made his way to the bar. "Hey, what are all you jerks looking at, anyway?"

The rest of the customers returned to their own affairs. One or two regulars mumbled, "Nothing, Struber, nothing..."

Osmo, though, couldn't help staring. "I don't believe it. I think that's the guy who's been watching me all day! Now is this a coincidence or what?"

"Eh, wha's that you say?" the newcomer angrily demanded. "Are you talking about me?!"

"Um, no, I must be mistaken," said Osmo tactfully. He wondered if he had imagined the whole thing about being tailed all day. He didn't want them to think he was paranoid.

"Oh, you say it behind my back, but you're not man enough to say it to my face. You must be a baby."

Mita got annoyed. "Hey, bub, just be quiet and drink some coffee or something to sober up."

The guy Struber laughed. "Now you need the girls to fight your battles."

The proprietor asked the belligerent man who sat down on a stool, "So, what will you have, or are you just here to pick a fight?"

Osmo told the others at the table, "Just ignore him. Apparently he can't handle his booze."

Sheila complained, "Why do jerks always have to spoil a good time?"

The jerk jumped from his stool, indignantly demanding, "Who are you calling a jerk- Oh, excuse me. I didn't realize it was the talking pig- Well, what can you expect from a pig- they don't know any better anyway, right?"

Osmo felt his blood pressure begin to rise. "Hold on a minute. Even though I know you are drunk, that doesn't excuse you-"

Albert shook his head. "Don't bother, Osmo. Remember your own advice- Ignore him."

"It's hard to ignore a fool," Mita opined.

"I- hic- I demand an apo- aploga- you better say you're sorry, you people!"

Annoyed, the manager snapped, "You guys better take it outside before I call the police!"

Over at Clyden's table, Gazelle, distracted from her drink, watched the drama and asked Clyden, "You're the Security Leader; are you going to do nothing?"

"Nope, I am already doing something. I'm sipping my brew."

"Tretl, you should stop that drunken rowdy! I know I don't like Osmo, and neither do I, but I dislike bullies even more."

"Why should I bother? Those kids can handle themselves. I don't think they need my help against one slob."

Gazelle kept watching, disappointed. "Oh, Tretl, I thought you were better than that! What would Gov. Bright say? You know he likes to keep law and order, and you, his main security man, sitting here indifferently! And his niece even is being harassed, too!" She shook her head, sad about the whole affair. "What happened to that hero you used to tell me about, when the crowds at the football game chanted 'Clyden! Clyden! He's our man- If he can't do it, nobody can!'"

"Hon, I'm off-duty. I can't run around and hold everybody's hand and nanny them. Sometimes people must work out things by themselves. Besides, that football stuff, that's kid's stuff. Adults don't have hero-complexes."

The noisome fellow stumbled over to Osmo's table and stood there, challenging, "Okay, if anybody here dares, stand up and take your medicine, since you won't say sorry!"

Sheila and Mita told the man to shut up and sit back down.

"Why don't you make me?"

Osmo impulsively got on his feet. "Maybe I will, you creep. Now get outta here, or step out side and get knocked out-"

Albert tried to calm his friend. "You don't want to beat up a slob who's plastered. He pretty much has no good judgment at this moment."

"When he sobers up, maybe he will remember to not drink so much next time, if he can't behave, Albert," Osmo answered.

By now the inebriated man stood by the back door. "Okay, big talker, let's go. Put your fist where your mouth is. No, wait, better yet, let me put my fist in your mouth! Ha ha ha. Come on, you coward!"

Osmo excused himself. "This will only take a moment."

Albert cringed inside, but he had to admit, the guy really was asking for it, and he himself actually wanted to knock off his block. He shrugged. "A man's got to do what a man's got to do."

"Give him one for me," Sheila begged.

The trouble-maker stepped aside at the doorway to let Osmo go first. Osmo did, but he turned and backed out the doorway, so that the other had no opportunity to give him a sucker-punch. The argumentative jerk followed and shut the door behind them, pleased that Osmo took the bait. "Okay, smart guy, let's see what you got."

"You bet," Osmo answered, stepping to the side, ready to teach Struber a lesson. But he noticed that the guy no longer seemed so drunk. He did still seem like a jerk and a trouble-maker, however. And something else- as Omso's eyes adjusted to the dark- the dim street lamp giving little light at the back of the club (luckily there at least was a bulb in one of the lamps)- he perceived many other forms gathering around him. He realized these were more thugs that were in with the jerk, a whole gang that awaited him outside the Tourist Trap- for some reason conspiring against him and meaning him ill will. It was some kind of a trap!

Well, Osmo had no time to ask questions to get to the bottom of this. Giving his most cocky attitude, Osmo offered, "Okay, you dopes. I see there's about five of you. If that's all ya got, you want me to wait while you get reinforcements and try to make it a bit more even for yourselves, or do you just want me to beat you all up here and now?"

The other thugs found this amusing and chuckled. One of them said, "We got us a funny little mouse. Let's see if he feels like laughing if he got no more teeth." And they circled Osmo, ready to close in on him.

The Fight

Indeed, Osmo had counted correctly. The jerk and his four thug companions tightened the circle around the young man. While the jerk had no weapon, Osmo noticed that everybody else carried a makeshift bat, and all the bats were being waved menacingly in the air. The opponent on the jerk's left rushed in to attack first, trying to catch Osmo with an old broomstick.

Osmo ducked and the broom handle sliced through the air, contacting nothing until it clubbed the goon directly behind Osmo. And the first attacker gasped in surprise because Osmo had latched onto the stick as it had swung, and, using the momentum of the flying broom handle, tugged that guy holding it off his feet. The guy's weight, which he had put behind his swing, carried him into another member of the brave gang which attacked a solitary person with such large odds.

And that was how the battle continued for a few minutes. Osmo gave better than he received, because he mostly managed to keep from getting hit. Of course, he couldn't evade their sticks all night long, and he suffered a few bumps and bruises, but not like the ones he gave to them.

The backdoor opened, and Albert called out, "Hey, what's taking you so long? That boob didn't knock you out, did he- Whoa! What's this?"

Osmo had sent one of the attackers sprawling in Albert's direction. The tossed miscreant smashed into the doorway, almost landing into Albert, who quickly stepped aside. Albert gave the dazed man a boot to the butt, and so the man flew inside the open door, coming to rest on the floor of the Tourist Trap.

The manager threw a fit. "This is how things get damaged. I've had enough! I'm calling the police!"

Albert called to Sheila and Mita, "Hey, there's a bunch of no-goods all fighting Osmo at once- he was set up!" Without hesitation, Albert ran outside to aid his pal.

Sheila jumped up from the table and also hurried for the open doorway to assist Osmo. As she headed toward the door, she called to Sec. Ldr. Clyden, "Don't just sit there! You're security. Do I have to tell my uncle you're afraid to bust up a barfight?" She was out the door in a flash, and she and Albert helped improve the odds dramatically.

Clyden told Gazelle, "You wait here. I guess there's more of 'em out there. Who would've expected that?" He, too, raced for the back door, nearly stumbling over the worn-out looking robot tending to the tables- one of the few robots in this financially hurting district.

"Hey! Watch the robot! I can't afford another one!" the barkeep shouted. "Oh, sorry, didn't realize it was you, sir," he mumbled, catching Clyden's eye as the security leader exited.

The rest of the patrons tried to figure out what the heck was going on.

Together Osmo's team made short work of the gang.

Gazelle, anxious for Clyden and also concerned for Osmo, who had been fighting the bums by himself for quite awhile before help came, ignored Clyden's request to stay at their booth. She rushed outside, only to see the last of them standing right by the door as he took one final swing at Sheila. Sheila dodged, and an iron pipe missed her, only to collide with Gazelle's temple. Stunned, Gazelle fell backward against the wall. The wall kept her from falling down onto the ground.

The trouble-makers all vanished into the night.

Sheila embraced Osmo. "Oh, oh, how badly did they hurt you?"

But Osmo called after the retreating thugs, "Yeah, you better run, before I get mad!"

Clyden noticed Gazelle holding her head and trying to stay on her legs. "Hon, you shoulda listened to me! Are you okay?!"

Gazelle tried to shake the cobwebs from her skull. "I think so. Luckily that on swings like a girl!"

Albert said, "Well, that can be pretty hard; did you see how Sheila put the hurt on them?"

Gazelle forced a laugh. "What will Capt. Shatner say? The night before I finally am able to return to Earth, and I get into a fight."

Mita came outside to see what the fuss was all about. "Oh, that's terrible," she said, when Albert filled her in on what had happened. "I can't stand cowards who need to fight in packs." Albert noticed she never asked Osmo how he was, but it was obvious Osmo was okay, just a bit banged up. Still, that never stopped Mita in the past from rushing to his aid.

Osmo wondered, "Now what was that all about? Who would want to beat up lovable me?"

Then some uniformed Security Agents showed up, but Clyden explained the situation had been resolved and dismissed the police. Everybody split up and headed out.

Clyden and Gazelle walked up the street to his car.

Gazelle held her aching head."I don't understand why you parked so far away, now that you made your spot a reserved parking spot."

Clyden shrugged. "Why not? I got to thinking about what the punk said last Saturday, that I'm getting a gut on me. Maybe a little exercise will be good for me. Say, maybe we ought to get you to the doc to look at your head."

When the couple reached the car, Clyden paused a moment, hearing a "Pssst" come from a nearby dark alley. Then he ignored it and opened the door for Gazelle. Again, "Psssst! Over here!"

Gazelle still held her head. "Who is that, Tretl? Where are you going? You be careful-"

"It's nothing," he replied, turning into the alleyway to investigate. In the shadows waited the jerk from the Tourist Trap, who had been watching Osmo all day, and who had picked the fight.

"What do you want?" Clyden whispered to the riff-raff.

"I want more money is what I want. You said to meet ya here after, and you'd pay me the other half. You said it'd be just that kid. Not a whole free-for-all."

"You had a couple minutes all by yourselves with him, and you were unable to knock him down. I don't think you deserve the money you got," Clyden whispered back. "Now get out of here, before I arrest you for disturbing the peace! One of your men hit my girl with a metal bar!"

"Hey, don't threaten me-"

Like a cobra striking, Clyden's fist flashed out and struck the instigator in the face. He hit him a few more times, until the guy, woozy, moaned and sank down to the dirt of the alley. "See? That's how it's done. That's how you were supposed to knock out that Martin guy, so he'd get the message and leave our cozy little world. Next time you try to get more money that you didn't earn from me, I won't be so easy-going, Struber."

Clyden turned back toward the car, ready to leave the alley, and found Gazelle standing there at the entrance. She gaped at him in shock. "Oh, baby," he called to her with concern in his voice, "What are you doing up and about? You should be taking it easy. Go rest in the car and we'll go see a doctor."

"That's the trouble-maker. You hired him to cause some mischief! How could you! I know in your job you sometimes have to do bad things for the governor, but that young man had nothing to do with the governor. You had no reason to get him beat up. Why did you do that, Tretl?"

"This doesn't concern you, hon. Just forget it and let it go."

"Why, Tretl, why? I know I told you last week how rude the Martin kid was on the rocket, and I know he took your spot last week, but why beat him up for that?! Did you do it because you just don't like people with money who never had to work for it like you had to? Is that why? What kind of a man are you, that you would be so jealous of someone who never did you any harm?"

He took her by the shoulder. "Just calm down and get back into the car. We should get a doctor now to look at that crack on your head-"

She pulled free. "Let go of me. I don't need your help. I can get along just fine without you. I don't believe I want to see you anymore-"

"Hey, don't be rash. And don't be standing on a soap box, either. As you said, you know what kind of stuff I sometimes must do- Hey, what's wrong-"

Gazelle held her head tightly with both hands and shrieked. Her eyes turned upward and she collapsed, right near where the trouble-maker had fallen down, almost on top of the unconscious Struber. Clyden rushed to Gazelle's side to assist her.

She glared at Clyden. "Don't... touch... me..." And then she passed out. Clyden tried to wake her, but couldn't.

At the Hospital

As part of the grand tour around the World of Hope, Xavier showed off the Sparkle City hospital, telling to George and Nina how, despite the tight-fisted ways Earth dealt with them, the governor saw to it that everybody had access to healthcare, and that the hospitals were all kept in good shape and running. He said he could not help but brag about how well the citizens' health was taken care of.

Security Leader Clyden accompanied Gov. Bright, keeping himself there by his side, but unnoticed.

The party walked down the corridor, led by the Administrator personally. As they rounded a corner, a young man came around from the other way carrying a tray of food. The young man collided with Nina.

"Oof!" The young man nearly spilled the tray. "Sorry, ma'm, I didn't see you coming around the corner." He also apologized to the Administrator. Then, he recognized the governor. "Gov. Bright!"

"Accidents happen," Gov. Bright said magnanimously.

Nina stared at the man with the tray. "Excuse me, but you look familiar... Weren't you on our flight, the Space Dart? I think you came with that Osmo Martin character."

His ID tag on his shirt pocket read Albert Z. , VOLUNTEER."Yes, ma'm. And, um, Gov. Bright, it is appropriate for me to take this opportunity to thank you personally for inviting us and paying for our tabs-"

"You're welcome, Mr. Zoeniga. It's nice to know my kindness is appreciated. I had expected to meet you for awhile now, but not here. This is a surprise. My niece was supposed to bring Mr. Martin's friends to dinner at the Governor's House, but, apparently she would rather take you young people out to nightclubs and such. Well, I guess to young people, that might be a bit more fun than a dinner with Sheila's uncle. But tell me, why are you here carrying a tray and working at the hospital, if you are supposed to be on vacation?"

"Well..." Albert wanted to be tactful. He did not want to accuse the governor, especially to his face, of anything. What if Osmo were right, and the governor was doing his best? He said, "I am simply helping out a little. I had heard that things are not as well as they could be, so I thought I would do what I can to help make things better for the sick folks here at the hospital."

"That's very noble of you," George said. He turned to Xavier Bright. "I thought you said the hospital ran very well, in spite of being allegedly short on supplies."

"Yes, and it is true. But, do you see, George?" Xavier said. "Even this young man from Earth, on vacation here, confirms what I say. We need supplies, so that tourists such as Mr. Zoeniga, instead of carrying trays about the hospital, can be at the beach or skiing up north at a resort, and enjoying his vacation time." He tried to turn about Albert Zoeniga's obvious contradiction of the boasts he had just made to the McCleers, but it still galled him to look so foolish like this. "When will Earth send the supplies we need?!"

George nodded. "So you have been saying, Xavier."

Albert excused himself and continued on with the tray.

The governor watched the annoying do-gooder walk down the hall. "A nice young fellow," he said.

"I suppose so, Gov. Xavier," Sec. Ldr. Clyden replied.

The Administrator agreed. "Thanks to a few volunteers, we can keep spirits up with out patients and keep them fed in a timely manner." A cross look from the governor made it clear the Administrator had better not go down this path. He quickly changed the subject. "Gov. Bright, I want you to see the new holo-viewer, so you can appreciate the results of your wrangling with Earth to get us one. And I also want to thank you for getting it- we are so thankful, since we really needed one here at Sparkle Hospital. Thanks to you, sir, we are all in good health."

Xavier smiled. "I want our citizens to be well taken care of during their stay here at our Sparkle Hospital."

"Yes, sir," the Administrator enthused. "Now diagnosing will be so much easier. We can see whether things are all right in the body where before we could only guess-"

As they walked along, Xavier put on his most charming smile and suggested, "Maybe we should use it on your heart, Nina, to see what's wrong, and find out how it is that you can prefer George's lifetime companionship to someone who is so much more fun?"

George snarled, "And maybe we can use it on your brain and see what is wrong with you, Xavier."

Xavier looked hurt. "Oh, George, what's this? Why get all excited suddenly? You know I am only kidding. I have been kidding all this time that you and your lovely wife have been my guests. Why now do you suddenly develop a thin skin, and become rude and sarcastic?"

The Administrator gaped. He never expected this kind of reaction to news about the holo-viewer.

"Oh, knock it off," George answered, his hands turning into fists as he tried to remain calm.

Sec. Ldr. Clyden became alert, in case he would have to intervene between George and Xavier.

George continued his rant. "I think you should finally accept the fact that, well, let's face it, my wife didn't really find you to be someone she would want to marry and spend her life with. Can you blame her? You always think you are right, that everything must be your way. You are such an ego-maniac, it is pathetic. I actually feel sorry for you."

For a brief moment, Xavier appeared stunned by the reaction. Then his face took on a look of friendly sincerity. "Oh, George, if I have offended and angered you, I apologize deeply. I am sorry if you took my light-hearted banter the wrong way."

Nina couldn't believe her husband. So, ever since they got here, while George was trying not to get upset with Xavier during this past week, inside he must have been really angry about his former room-mate, and finally- finally he had had enough. She put her loving arms around George. "Oh, hon, don't become so mad. I know he really annoys you so much, but try to keep your cool. Tomorrow, after visiting the mines, you can write up your report, and we can go back home."

The Administrator still could only stare at them, shocked to hear anyone talk to Gov. Bright like that.

"Yes, George," said Xavier. "Listen to your wife. But don't worry. If I upset you so much, I won't joke you anymore about Nina,"

Xavier then said, "Sec. Ldr. Clyden has come with me today to the hospital because he wants to look in on a sick friend. If you will excuse me, I wish to join him in wishing his friend well. I hope you understand. We can all meet later in the lobby. You will be sure to show Mr. and Mrs. McCleer all there is to see at the hospital, won't you, Dr. Evans?"

"What? Oh, yes, sir, yes I will."

"Thank you, Dr. Evans." Xavier turned and walked back down the hall, Clyden keeping up with his crisp pace, leaving the puzzled Administrator and the McCleers behind.

The governor and the security chief entered an elevator and Xavier pressed any button. "I hope your friend is doing fine, Sec. Ldr. Clyden."

"Thank you for your concern, sir. What's this really about?"

Xavier pressed the STOP button and halted their descent. "I am impressed with that Albert Zoeniga's altruism. And his frankness about the shortfalls of care here at our hospital on Hope, from an outsider's eyes, is refreshing."

"Oh?"

Alone with Clyden in the stopped elevator, obviously with no intention of looking in on Gazelle, Xavier spoke his mind. "I think that Albert Zoeniga wore out his welcome."

Clyden nodded. "Okay."

"No, it isn't okay. He is my guest. And so is his friend, Osmo Martin."

"I know that, Gov. Xavier. What is the point you are trying to make?"

"Now is not the time to upset the apple cart. Let us keep Osmo happy. I suppose I shall have to put up with that annoying Mr. Zoeniga, in order to keep Osmo happy. Maybe then his influential father will also be happy. Maybe I can get from the Leaders on Earth what our world needs. That's one thing. That will then make me happy. Of course, I am not sure I can expect much from them, but nevertheless, it is worth trying. But, Sec. Ldr. Clyden, since I am on the subject of Osmo Martin, I wonder if you can tell me about that incident that happened at the Tourist Trap."

"I am sure Sheila has told you all about it already."

"Yes, but I wanted to hear your version, if you don't mind. Did you find those people yet? You must be livid, seeing how one of those thugs injured your young lady friend so badly, that she is in a coma and cannot return to Earth just yet because the rocket trip might make matters worse."

Clyden assured him he spared no effort in trying to locate the rowdies. "I don't know who they are, not yet, but we will get them, that's a certainty. It appears they conspired against that Martin kid for some reason, and one of them lured him outside the nightclub, where they jumped him. Or they tried to, but I stepped in, and so did your niece and that Albert that is a volunteer here. We made short work of them. Too bad for Gazelle, though. I had told her to wait inside the Tourist Trap."

"But you don't have any idea who they were, or why they attacked him?"

Clyden shrugged, his face showing how puzzled the matter made him. "Perhaps they figured he'd have something worth stealing, so they wanted to mug him, since he's a cocky rich kid and they don't like that. Maybe they are some of those complainers here on Hope, always finding fault with our world, and so they think that if Mr. Gunther Martin on Earth gets upset because of something happening to his boy, that Gunther Martin will then do things to make things even harder for our government. And that would be how they can get back at your government, sir. Stupid people. Don't they know that it will just be harder on all of us then, especially them, if Earth gets mad and holds back even more supplies?"

Xavier narrowed his eyes, trying to read his security man. "That is a most... interesting theory. But I am amazed that such a large group has been able to completely hide itself from your investigative abilities. Ordinarily you would have them tracked down by now, and either locked up or in the mines."

"Yes, it is a mystery what has become of them, Gov. Xavier."

"Well, can I ask you a favor in regards to that matter, Sec. Ldr. Clyden?"

"Of course, sir."

"Can you take extra special caution and care to see that nothing like that ever happens again to Osmo Martin while he is on our planet? I rather am fond of him, and he is seeing a lot of Sheila, and she likes him, in her own way. So can you be sure no more conspiracies happen, that no more thugs try to harm him?"

Clyden wanted to tell Xavier how annoying he found Osmo. Instead, he promised he would do his best to see that nothing happened to Osmo, since it meant so much to the governor.

"I am sure you will," the governor said. "One more thing. Can you please meet the McCleers in the lobby after you visit your friend, and see that they have a way back to the Governor's House?"

"You're not coming with to the lobby?"

"Sec. Ldr. Clyden, I cannot spend all my time showing the McCleers around the city. My time is too valuable. I have other matters to attend to."

Xavier restarted the elevator and got off on the ground floor, leaving Clyden still inside.

The security leader tried to remember what floor Gazelle was on. He pressed another button and, as the elevator took him back up, he mused to himself, This thing with the governor and George McCleer seems to be coming to a head. I think it is safe to say that McCleer crossed the line today. Gov. Xavier won't let him get away with chastising him in front of the Administrator. It is bad public relations if he lets the matter pass, and people will lose respect for the governor.

Saying Good-bye

In the lobby, Nina sat on a sofa with George, waiting for Xavier and Sec. Ldr. Clyden to return. George noted, "You are exceptionally quiet."

"I'm worried, George. Really worried." She answered him in a low voice, to keep the conversation private from the receptionist. "You made Xavier plenty mad."

"So? Ask me if I care. That weasel had it coming. Before, I got mad, but I never took him seriously. Since we saw that rose garden park at the college, I now begin to think that scoundrel means what he says when he hits on you. He actually wishes to woo you back- and take you from me. Ha, to think after all these years he expects you even have any romantic feelings left for him! I'll be glad when I do what I'm supposed to get done for Earth and we say bye to this tiny world and its egomaniac leader."

"Hon, you know the rumors. Sometimes his enemies disappear to who-knows-where-"

"I'll bet his stoogie Clyden knows where," George interrupted. "The grapevine says people are taken to become miners to dig out that fuel ore Earth so much depends on. Since the Leaders on Earth count on it so much, they mostly turn a blind eye to that rumor about the governor's kidnappings. But lately, in spite of how badly we need the ore on Earth, if the rumor were true, and because of some other matter has been suggested regarding Xavier, these things will make them question how wise it is to keep Xavier in his position, to say the least."

"Hmm. Tomorrow you are going to see the mines, how they function, their ore output... I think I am going to go with- No, I know I will- I insist I will accompany you there, hon. Xavier won't dare try anything funny on you with me there as a witness, George- I mean, to me he still seems the same, but yet, there is something different about him, something that worries me. Maybe those rumors are just rumors and misunderstandings about Xavier, maybe even they are completely untrue... But I have this terrible feeling of unease."

George shook his head. "No, hon, don't get all frantic. Xavier won't do anything like that. You and I know he's a jerk, and I suspect the rumors about his enemies disappearing might be true, too, but he wouldn't mess with me like that, even if he wanted to, because Earth takes a dim view to its authority being so slighted, or to its representatives being harmed. He's trying to keep on their good side. I am sure he does things behind Earth's back, but nothing so overt, and especially to his old room-mate. And especially not now, if some of the things we hear are correct. He will not want to anger the Leaders at the moment. Right now he is trying to keep on the good side of the Leaders, to get more help and supplies for this world. The official response of the Leaders is that he already gets more than adequate supplies, but that he is not taking care of how he uses them. Still, he keeps trying to win more favor from them. Or so it appears, anyway. Look how he even has Gunther Martin's son come for a vacation at Sparkle City. Bottom line, hon- you aren't coming. Whatever the truth is about political prisoners, I know for a fact some of the miners are definitely hardened criminals. Remember Earth had exported a few really bad eggs to the mines? Well, I won't have you exposed to that danger. And not only that, there are Eaters patrolling that area. You, my dear, are staying back at the suite."

"Okay, then if you won't take me along, don't go alone! Just don't go, George-"

"I won't be alone; I will have Xavier and Clyden for company- Oh, come on, hon, don't look like that. Sorry, it was a joke, hon, don't get mad-"

"Hon, I don't want you to go!" Nina laid down the law.

"What? And look afraid? That's a good career move, Nina. Even more ludicrous than it being a bad career move is the idea of me being afraid of Xavier. No way. I need to see and report the conditions at the mines, and if things are being done efficiently, and the health of the miners... and other things, too, if I see anything out of the ordinary. It has to be done, and it is my job to do it, hon. In fact, examining the mines is my primary goal for this trip."

"But-"

Without warning, he swooped her in his arms and gave her a big kiss, just as he had done aboard the Space Dart when he saw that reasoning got nowhere. His kiss seemed to work its magic again, for she calmed down a bit, making no more protestations.

While the McCleers were discussing the situation, Clyden had hunted down Gazelle's room and came to see how she fared. Bandages covered the back and side of her head, and tubes and wires snaked out of her body. Monitors beeped and blinked. She slept through all of this, her face looking so peaceful. Clyden at first could only stare, refusing to accept what his eyes saw.

"Well, sweetie, I told you so. I told you to wait inside the club, but you had to come see what was going on. You couldn't listen, but you should've. Look what it got ya. And then you told me you no longer wanted to see me anymore. Well, you got what you want. You don't see me now, do you, Gazelle? You don't see much of anything, do you, huh? You don't know anything. The docs know about as much as you do- nothing. They don't know if you'll ever wake up, or when it might be if you ever will. Well, I stopped over to see you for one final visit, to say good-bye to you, and thanks for all the memories."

He turned from her bedside and saw a young woman- barely more than a girl- standing in the doorway. He recognized her as sometimes sitting with that Martin punk at the Tourist Trap. Her ID tag read "Mita M." She reddened. "Oh, I'm sorry, Sec. Lr. Clyden. I didn't mean to intrude. I- I can't find where I am supposed to be. You see, I am very new at this volunteering thing at the hospital."

"And not very good at it, if you got lost."

"Not at all. I keep getting lost in the hallways. I don't usually lose my way like that. I think because I am not really very much enthused about this whole thing, I am not concentrating like I should. I suppose I have other things on my mind."

"Then why bother doing this volunteering if you don't even enjoy it?" Clyden asked out of curiosity, trying to wrap his mind around such altruism. "Why waste a good vacation on working in a hospital, when you could be having fun at the beach or in a club?"

She shook her head, unsure of the answer. "Maybe to distract myself, although it's not working. From my frustrations. It was my acquaintance Albert's advice. He says it is nice to help other people and do what Jesus wants. He's been that way, lately. But as for me, I don't get much out of it. I guess it's because I don't care about doing things for other people, or even for Jesus. I want to do things just for me. I don't want to spend my life anymore expecting my happiness to come from somebody else. I want to get it my way. I want to find people who will make me happy, and if they don't, then I want to just push them aside."

Clyden liked her attitude. "Then what stops you? Why don't you? What keeps you from doing that?"

She rubbed her hands awkwardly together, trying to find words. "My dreams. Childhood dreams. Childish dreams. But I can see they won't come true. I am an adult now. Time to put away childish things. That's life."

He nodded in understanding. "Yes, but when you get rid of your old dreams, sometimes new, better, or least more mature and practical dreams develop to take their place. And the best part is that now that you are an adult, you yourself can make your own dreams come true."

"Sounds good." She took off the volunteer ID badge and tossed it in the trashcan by the door. Mita looked thoughtful. "I guess I will say good-bye to those foolish dreams of my childhood. For a start, I'd like to find the exit out of here, and get out of this depressing place."

"I believe I can be of some help there," he offered. "I am meeting some folks down in the lobby. Come with me, you can find the door and you'll be able to escape in only a few short minutes."

Mita smiled at him. "Thanks. That's a relief."

Be Careful!

Clyden sat by Xavier's side as an old pilot flew the sky car out of Sparkle City. George McCleer sat on the bench opposite the governor and his security man. At first they flew in silence, gazing out the windows at the desert beneath them.

George remembered how, this morning, Nina had still worried about the trip. He assured her he would be okay, and she relaxed some when he pointed out to her that Xavier had stopped being such a pest, and that Xavier no longer made those crude remarks, so she should not worry. Since he blew up at Xavier at the hospital, the governor of the World of Hope must have finally realized his place.

As the aircar continued on its way, Xavier peered out the window at the rugged land below, with its scrubby plants here and there, but mostly the splotchy grey and red rocks. Out of the blue, he asked if George had slept well last night.

"Uh, yes, why?" Indeed, he wondered why Xavier would be concerned about such a thing.

"Oh, okay, good. It was nothing. A little excitement last night, that's all. Somebody trespassed and tried to bust into the Governor's House. I don't know what he wanted. Fortunately, Sec. Ldr. Clyden and his security team caught him while making their rounds, before he could do any mischief. I thought maybe the noise woke you."

"No, no problem. I slept like a log."

Xavier nodded, glad to hear this, apparently. Neither made any mention of the friction from yesterday, and Xavier chatted breezily, like they were true old chums. This unnerved George a bit, and he began to think Xavier deliberately did it to spook him.

When the pilot encountered some turbulence, he circled around a large canyon and then returned to course. Xavier explained how sometimes wild air pockets, without warning, sped across flight paths, due to all the environment-generating which continued day and night, making the planet a bit more habitable and Earthlike, each day more than the previous day. "You saw the vent stacks on the Enviro-Gen- constantly pushing out heated gases."

"Oh. I see." George never knew Xavier to make so much small talk.

A half hour later a small, dull, greyish blue mountain appeared on the horizon. "There!" the governor exclaimed. "The mines. Where we dig out the ore that keeps Earth humming. An incredible energy source. Big deposits of the ore seemingly all over our small world."

The aircar drew closer. The small mountain grew in size. George noticed a moat gouged in the ground surrounding the entire mountain. A narrow steel footbridge spanned the gap, arriving at the mine entrance where armed robots stood guard. The large entrance gaped fifteen feet across, and twelve feet high. And barely visible from this angle in the air were some administrative buildings on the other side of the mountain, opposite the entrance way.

Xavier said, "We keep the moat stocked with Eaters, specially bred to like the taste of miners. Not too many miners want to escape, anyway, but if they do, they won't get far. The entrance is the only way in or out."

"What makes you think they won't want to make a break for it, Xavier?"

The governor smiled condescendingly. "Well, George, we have rehabilitated the miners. We've re-educated them. Whereas in times past they broke the law and brought down society, today they wish to be a boon to their fellow man, someone who contributes."

The aircar didn't need much of a landing strip, and that's exactly what it got at the mines. The pilot set the flying vehicle onto the rocky road right, where it came to an end in front of the moat. Much of the land in this area, hard and rocky and uneven, offered few landing spots.

The pilot waited by the aircar while Security Leader Clyden led Gov. Bright and George McCleer up to the bridge.

As soon as George had left the car, he noticed a harsh, wild music coming from the mine entrance. Even here, the music seemed rather loud. Frowning, his ears throbbing, George asked, "Is there some sort of a party going on inside the mines?"

Xavier chuckled. "Just the PA system blasting away. The miners love it. The fast tempo helps inspire them to dig out the ore faster."

"It must be murder on the human guards."

"Naw, they don't mind," Clyden assured him. "We wear headsets to quiet the noise when we are on duty in the mines all day long. But some of the guards, if I catch them, I have to tell them to put back on their earphones, so they don't go deaf. Some of the guys like the noise as much as do the miners."

Clyden went first over the bridge.

Xavier bragged, "I am happy to say that the miners appreciate the motivational music. And I am most happy to report how successful our rehabilitation methods are. In fact, I am rather proud of that achievement. Technically the miners are still criminals, but they don't see it that way. They get good food and we do whatever we can to upkeep their conditions. In gratitude for all our help, they work as hard as they can, day in and day out. Again, let me remind that we get little help from Earth. However, we still manage to keep them happy and content to find and dig out Earth's precious power ore. Wait. When you see them in action, you will be impressed."

As they crossed the bridge, the deep darkness under them and noises of things shuffling about down there in the moat caught George's attention. Far below, in the blackness at the bottom, horrible growls and snarls sounded forth, and the commotions of furious fighting. Halfway over the bridge, George stopped, speechless, listening to the tumult down in the gloom. He peered close to the edge, trying to catch a glimpse of the mysterious creatures he had heard so much about (none of it any good), and now had a chance to see them live.

Xavier halted once he realized that George lagged behind. He turned and saw him gazing over the side, so close to the edge... Quietly he moved back across the bridge, to stand directly behind George, and reached out with his arms-

A hairy, slimy tentacle shot up from the blackness and snaked toward George! It wrapped itself around his ankle, but before it could pull him over, Xavier got hold of George's shoulders and yanked him away from the tentacle's grasp. He hurried George across the bridge the rest of the way, out of harm's reach.

It all happened so fast, the whole thing was over before it registered with George.

"What are you doing, George?! Do you want to get yourself eaten? You must be careful!"

George blinked, trying to comprehend. "I- I almost became dinner for an Eater!"

"Yes, that's one of our security systems," Clyden told him, a bit pleased with himself because of the fact that he had helped set up the system. "There's only one way out of the mines, as Gov. Xavier has already told you, and the robots and the Eaters are guarding it. Should any miner decide he didn't like his job anymore, well, he can't go far. But, as Gov. Xavier also already told you, most actually enjoy themselves here."

Xavier added, "The Eaters are not usually so big as to be able to reach as high as the bridge from such a deep moat, but on occasion one stands atop another's back. Good thing the creatures are not very organized, but just in case, we don't stock so many in at once, so the beasts do not pile atop one another and climb out their pit."

Somewhat shaken, George nodded. "Yes, that is a good thing."

As the robot guards warmly greeted Xavier (warmly, at least, for a robot), and Clyden only a little less warmly, Xavier took George into the dimly lit descending tunnel, warning him again, "Be careful, George. It's not a wise idea to dawdle over the moat. That only encourages the Eaters to try for an easy meal. We certainly don't want anything to happen to you!" And he sounded so sincere, but the way he punctuated the claim with a tiny chuckle gave George a creepy chill, as bad as the shivers he had gotten from his close encounter with the Eater.

The Miners

George kept up with the quick step of Clyden and Xavier down to the sub-ground level storage facilities. Here, twin rail tracks along the dirt floor of the tunnels provided paths for the mining carts carrying the sparkling rocks from various places to the storage rooms on the upper levels. Xavier was the first to enter the dump room, in which all the freshly dug red sparkly ore was taken. "When we have a full shipment, a group of large capacity tanks come over the dessert and park at the edge of the moat. With more maneuverable carts that don't use rails, the miners transfer the ore from here to the land tankers. Often it takes almost all our miners the whole day under the strictest guard to do their job."

"But how do you get the ore over the moat, if the only way over is the bridge?"

"We use the bridge. How else?"

George envisioned that in his mind. "The bridge is so narrow; it'd be hard for two miners to pass by each other. And the bridge is so flimsy..."

"Very sturdy," contradicted the governor. "Made from a very strong alloy. The bridge may be a tight squeeze, but we seldom have accidents."

"You do have accidents, though." George shuddered, very concerned as he recalled his own narrow escape. "By accidents, you mean..."

Clyden finished the sentence. "The kind like you almost had."

George coughed a bit. "It's so dusty in these tunnels! Between the dust and that blaring thrash metal music- Can't something be done to clean the air a little bit? Isn't it dangerous to have fuel ore dust floating about- I mean, isn't it flammable or explosive?"

Xavier shook his head, dismissing George's worries. "Believe it or not, the impurities in the air cut down on the fuel ore dust's volatility, because these impurities are the same which are those in the ore rocks that make the ore stable and able to be mined. The dust even cuts down on the accidental blasts that sometimes happen when a miner unknowingly hits some pure fuel."

A team of arriving miners caught George's attention. The gang pushed along a bunch of large overflowing ore buggies, probably weighing hundreds of pounds each. When they saw Gov. Bright and Sec. Ldr. Clyden, the five immediately grinned and saluted. Just like all the other miners had acted, whenever they crossed paths with them while touring the mine.

Covered in red dust, they all wore uniforms which seemed to have been gray at one time. Each miner wore a number on his uniform. There wasn't a single miner under six and a half feet tall, all of them huge and muscular, hulking figures. Some of them had a greyish tint to their skins, while a few of them, while still looking greyish, glowed a bit, a red glow. Some of these glowed more than others.

"More ore!" Clyden greeted the miners, and they responded in a chorus of "More ore! More ore!"

"Excellent," Xavier complimented the laborers. "Keep up the good work. Your governor thanks you, and so does Sparkle City, and also Earth!"

The miners beamed and exchanged glad glances with each other, flattered from the approval of Gov. Bright and Sec. Ldr. Clyden. The team leader thanked Gov. Bright for the opportunity to serve him and his fellow men and women. Without wasting another moment, the five miners dumped out their ore. Then, hastily, almost running, they all pushed their empty carts back down the track, taking a side rail that disappeared down, down, deep down into the ground, rushing to a major ore vein, to mine more ore, more ore! For Gov. Bright! For Sparkle City! For Earth!

"I've been noticing some of them have a glow about them," George told them.

"I guess some like the job so much, it gives them a glow," said Clyden.

Xavier clarified. "Seriously, the longer a miner is here, the more of the dust he ingests and gets into his system. After awhile, the sparkling, glowing ore dust starts to make the miner glow, too. It's kind of a status symbol, really. The more the glow, the better."

Two robot guards happened by, toting blaster pistols, on patrol. They greeted Xavier and Clyden and continued on their way.

George said, "I must say, Xavier, this attitude you have managed to instill into the miners- I find it amazing. I know they undergo an unbelievable transformation physically, but this new attitude you give them- Why, I just can't believe it."

Xavier shined with glee. "Oh, believe it. Their new mindset is incredible. Changing them physically is the easy part. We just make them strong as an ox, so they can dig faster and farther than an ordinary human being, and they can endure all kinds of extremes, including the cumulative effects of the radiation from the dust in their systems. But to enhance production, we made them want to work as hard as they can for us."

"Do all of them want to?" George wanted to know. "There are certain rumors which claim some of the people who disagree with you and offend you end up here in the mines. Do they, too, become willing slaves now with a new attitude?"

"Slaves?" Xavier grunted. "Huh, I don't have to force them to dig. They dig because they want to! If I were to deny these miners the chance to work so hard, I would be doing them a great disservice. You heard it right from the horse's mouth. And then, also, to deny them their chance to be useful citizens, I would be harming Earth, cutting off society's lifeblood, the fuel ore. That is their new attitude. Very becoming, don't you think?"

George said, "I guess they're even more loyal than robots. No wonder Earth prefers to use people to dig their ore."

"Correct," the governor confirmed. "And besides that, today's robots are mostly stupid. Robots have no real intelligence- don't you agree? They have no imagination, no initiative. Simple machines incapable of problem-solving to any great extent. Too bad nobody ever took the time to develop smarter robots... Anyway, criminals-turned-miners are cheaper to use. And, unless they die too suddenly, these miners can regenerate when seriously injured, so they last a long time Quite an improvement over the first human miners, and better, too- Why risk a law-abiding citizen for such work? But let's see a robot do all that a miner can!"

"Fascinating." George had to admit it.

"Would you care to see us do an actual transformation, turning a man into a miner?" Xavier invited. "We scheduled one for today, for your benefit, George. You can see how they go from puny weaklings to mighty digging miners in just a matter of minutes- like those you saw throughout the tunnels. The transformation is more interesting than watching a butterfly hatch from its cocoon."

George hesitated. "I don't know if I want to see that. I hear it is a very traumatic process."

"Excrutiating, too, if their screams are any indication."

"What? You don't use any anesthetic?"

Xavier urged, "Come see for yourself, George. Your report to Earth will be incomplete if you refuse this offer to actually witness the event."

"Um, okay, then, since you put it that way." George decided he should provide as much details and information as he could about what happened on the planet of Hope. He figured it was best to see as much as he could. Maybe he could find out what he was really sent to find out, and then, finally, he could finish his job and return to Earth and be done with this world.

The Transformation

Xavier and Clyden took George further down, to a deep, deep underground chamber built into a vast cave. A rusty iron door with a dust-covered view window sealed this chamber from the rest of the mine. Beyond the large hatch George saw vaguely through the dust a dozen empty tables with straps to hold down the unwilling criminals for transformation.

Sec. Ldr. Clyden opened the door and waved for Xavier and George to go, and he came in after them.

Behind a plexiglass shield a small crew of white-coated technicians manned the bank machines which made the process possible. From their plexiglass observation they would oversee the process. Several robots stood at attention within the transformation chamber itself.

A struggling young man was brought in by some of Clyden's Security Agents. The man yelled and kicked and hollered, to no avail. He did his best to escape their grip, so he could flee. But where would he go, anyway? He was already trapped in the mines. All that remained was to become a miner.

Clyden waved a hand, his gesture encompassing all the tables. "Pick a table, anyone you want, whichever is easiest for you men to secure him to," he told his guards.

Xavier told George,"This is the trespasser from last night that I had told you about. He may have meant me ill will last night, but by tomorrow night he will love me."

The security people strained themselves strapping the young man onto the table. "I didn't do anything wrong! You can't make me into a miner!!"

Xavier walked casually over to the table. "Oh, you think it is nothing to come onto my property, to try and break into the Governor's House, and maybe try to bring harm to me or one of my own? Okay, well, then, I guess we should just let you loose."

"But that's not why I came! I was trying to find my dog! My little boy's puppy wandered away and got lost. I followed from town along the road to the Governor's Mount. I thought I saw it there in one of your gardens! But it was gone by the time I got close enough to see-"

"So, you were going to force your way into the house to see if it wandered inside?"

"No! I- I wanted to ask if anybody had seen it-"

Arrogantly, Xavier said, "You could have simply found a guard on patrol and asked about your dog. I guess you can be a poster boy warning why all animals should be leashed." He nodded to the techs behind the glass. "Start the business!"

A man in a white smock came into the chamber through a door built into the plexiglass. He fit some intravenous tubes into both the unfortunate man's arms. The IV's connected to pumps and machinery under the table. Next, the technician attached a series of wired sensors to the chest and head of the trespasser, for reading his vital signs during the grueling procedure.

George, a bit queasy from the anticipation, inquired, "Aren't you rushing things a bit? Did you already have an investigation or a trial?"

Xavier stared at George, a look of surprise on his face. He shook his head. "I cannot believe how naive you are, George."

A dark, viscous fluid, almost a type of sludge, began to flow through one of the tubes into the youth's arm. Green ooze pumped through another tube into the other arm. In moments the strapped man began to tug to break free, yelling in terrible pain. "Ahh- turn it off! Turn it off!"

Xavier matter-of-factly explained to George, "This must be torture for him. The darker fluids are so thick they are practically semi-solids, and the green fluid carries the bio-enhancing ingredients throughout his body. Each cell is stuffed like a turkey for Thanksgiving, almost bursting. The ingredients then force the cell to split and multiply. And then these new cells are also crammed full of the bio-enhancing stuffing. And each cell is made into a super cell, which is a good thing, but, at the moment, I don't think the trespasser appreciates that. Listen to him howl."

The victim's flesh stretched tightly from expanding muscles and bones beneath, his whole contorting body growing and swelling by the minute. Perspiration drenched him. All his veins stood out, throbbing wildly as the fluids coursed inside them. The poor man panted like a dog ready to fall over from over-exertion.

A technician behind the plexi called out his vital signs. "Heart rate 250. Blood pressure 220 over 175."

Wailing, the misshapen man begged for mercy.

Not liking what he saw, George turned away and complained, "Xavier, what are you doing? You will kill the man!"

Clyden answered for the governor. "Then the guy should have thought of that before he forced his way onto Gov. Xavier's estate."

Xavier added, "Of course such a rapid transformation is painful and dangerous. But his body is being changed so that it is nearly indestructible. And mighty as well. You would think by now, being as large as he has become, he would snap the bindings and make his getaway. However, he is in too much pain to think that far, at this point. Besides, the straps are much stronger than they appear. Now, if something happens to him while he is suffering this agony as he changes into a miner, if his heart should stop, there is an eighty percent chance his body will regenerate or recuperate in time for his vitals to start back up again. It is unlikely he will die, although at this point I think he wishes he would. Sec. Ldr. Clyden, look how quickly this one becomes ready. He barely lasted five minutes before his mental faculties crumpled."

"So I see, Gov. Xavier."

The future miner's body continued to swell, but he didn't seem to realize it anymore. He groaned and muttered weakly, spouting nothing but gibberish. His eyes glazed over in a state of shock. He seemed completely out of it now.

Clyden said, "I guess he's ready to go. His mind is pretty much destroyed from agony by now. Good. Now it is time to administer the ID Wipe."

"The what? ID wipe? What are you talking about? Earth doesn't know anything about this! What's in that needle? Tell me!" demanded George.

The technician stabbed, with all his might, a large hypodermic into an arm of the morphing, blubbering, gibbering man, and the new miner passed out. He looked very still, almost lifeless.

Xavier found it all satisfactory. "Good. Now he won't feel a thing from here on out. His body isn't yet matured into a miner's body, so we can still force a hypodermic into his arm. However, it still requires much effort and strength. Of course, we use diamond-tipped needles, to make it easier. What we just did, George, is part of how I rehabilitate the criminals. After the pain has shattered his mind, we inject him with this tonic, before his mind has time to mend itself back into a somewhat healthy condition, once the agony of transformation is over. We just destroyed his sense of his personal identity. It will shut down parts of his brain which contain more than simple general knowledge. He won't have any more personal memories. He no longer will know who he was. It's a blessing for him, George. Would you want to remember your life, if you were a criminal? Who could be happy knowing he was such a miserable lout like that. When he is ripe, the robots will carry him to the recovery room, and when he awakes, he will be properly educated to respect authority. And we will teach him how to be a good miner."

"That's barbaric!" fumed George.

"I am sure you have already heard, while on Earth, about the ordeal these criminals are subjected to, to make them ready to serve us and dig out Earth's precious fuel ore. You did not complain then. The only difference now, is that you have seen it firsthand. Or did you mean it is barbaric because we give them an ID Wipe? But how can that be bad, if we make them happy to be serving their time?"

Disgusted, George told him, "You're crazy, Xavier. Even in college, you seemed a little off, but I think now you jumped overboard, off the deep end."

"Oh? If you think that was crazy, seeing it happen to someone else, you'll really think I am mad when I have it done to you," Xavier replied.

"That's not a funny joke!"

"No, it's not a joke," Xavier said. He nodded to the Security Agents, who promptly surrounded George. Sec. Ldr. Clyden did not interfere.

"You see, George, I know why you have come. I know what you are seeking. And if you find it, then what? Do you plan to take my job here as governor of the World of Hope from me? I always knew your true reason for coming. And that's what makes you are a threat to our World of Hope. You know, even the idea of removing me from my position, after all I have done to make our world run so efficiently, is a threat to Hope's well-being. Was it not enough that you took Nina from me? Well, now it's your turn to suffer. Oh, and I am taking Nina back."

George couldn't believe this was happening. "I don't want your job! I am only on this planet to make an assessment, and then I am going back to Earth to make my conclusions and recommendations, that's all. And- and I never took Nina from you. She had stopped seeing you long before she and I got together- You'll never get away with this, you know-" George put up a gallant struggle, even more energetic than did the young man who now seemed so peaceful, slumbering on his table, turning a dull grey, becoming a miner.

"Ah, ah, don't lie, George," Xavier scolded.

The agents strapped him down onto another table. One remarked, "Struggling won't help! If you don't want to become a miner, you should've thought of that, before you became a threat, like Gov. Bright says!"

Sec. Ldr. Clyden decided to help his agents, so mightily did George struggle. Clyden said to the others, "Yeah, the governor said George would be trouble for our world, so that's why I picked you guys to help. I know you're loyal and can be counted on to keep quiet about what we're doing here today."

Xavier watched. "Honestly, George, I think I will get away with it. First, I will convince Nina you had an accident, like the one you almost did have with the Eater. I shall give her a shoulder to cry on. I will comfort her. I will subtly woo her. I shall make it so that it is like before between us, before she met you, and, I suspect, whether intentionally on you part or not, I do not know, nor do I care, you managed to turn her mind and attraction away from me, towards you."

Strapped onto the table, George shouted, "You're delusional, if you think she'll ever want to be with you again. It's long past our college years! And she'll never believe your lies!"

"Oh? But I know how to persuade her. I can still remember how, even though it was all those years ago, George. Did you not notice how I still bring a certain light into her eyes, even now? Don't worry. It won't bother you. You won't know anything about it or even remember her. You won't remember who you are. You will just be a number. And you will want to serve me. It will be almost like a zeal, digging as much fuel ore as you can, for Gov. Bright. How nice. Oh, I hope that doesn't make me sound too egotistical. I know you always viewed me that way. But, see, I do it for the good of our world."

George groaned in despair, "Oh, God, don't let him get away with this! ...You were right, Nina, you were right when you warned me to be careful of trouble!"

Xavier cocked his ear, to be sure he heard aright. "Oh? Did Nina guess I might do something like this to you? I am hurt she would think that of me. But it seems like she knows me better than you did, my old room-mate. There must still be something between us, then, a spark, for her to know me so well. Wouldn't you agree, George? I will fan that spark into a fire. She will love me again, George, without you there." He turned to Clyden, as the tubes were inserted into George's arms. "Let us be going. I don't think I can watch this happen to my old room-mate, even though he has treated me badly and means me harm."

Xavier and Clyden turned and headed out the hatch, hearing George's screams as the transformation began.

Ham

3-S held the cue stick and then demonstrated his technique of how to knock about the balls on the pool table. "Like so, ma'm."

"Okay, now I see," said Sheila. She told 3-S to set up the table again, then mimicked the technique and got the same result. "Yay, I did it! Thanks, 3-S, I think I mastered that." She never saw a robot that could play pool as well as 3-S.

Nor had Nina. She had never taken billiard lessons from a robot, ever, until now, but she had to admit, she admired 3-S's talent. But this game in the rec hall of Xavier's mansion failed to distract her from her worries and forebodings. Oh, why did George not listen to her? Why did he go with the governor and his security leader to the mines? And why, why didn't they come back already? What kept them so long? George left early this morning, and at this time the sun descended, and the first moon poked above the sea.

Sheila sensed Nina's anxiousness about some matter, but she didn't pry. Instead, she mentioned, "My uncle said you and my mom were good friends at one time long ago."

"It's true. Except some times it doesn't really seem so long ago. We were very good and close friends, before you were born. We were still friends up until her accident, but since she mostly lived here, and we were on Earth, we seldom saw much of each other..."

"I really miss her," Sheila sighed.

"So do I. She had introduced me to your uncle, and later, I met George, thanks to them... Where can George be? How long does it take to check out mines, for crying out loud?"

"Is that what distracts you? Relax, Mrs. McCleer. The mines are very large. He is with Uncle Xavier. I know the mine is filled with criminals and I know the Eaters, which patrol the mine, are deadly. But Mr. McCleer is in no better company to look out for him if there is going to be trouble ."

Nina reserved comment. She hoped Xavier wouldn't be so wicked as to harm her husband for his public rebuke of Xavier. She prayed he was better than that. And yet, she felt uneasy, as though she could not trust the man.

They continued the pool game, and 3-S stood ready to offer any advice if anyone asked. They played up until the time Xavier arrived, entering the hall alone and with a grave, grave expression upon his face. The governor's clothes were all dusty, as if he hadn't taken the time to clean himself, but rushed here for some reason.

Nina involuntarily gasped. "George- Where's George? Why isn't he with you, Xavier? Look at your face- what's wrong?!"

Xavier quietly asked Sheila to please leave them. A bit concerned, intuiting the situation, his young niece left the hall without a word.

"Where is he, Xavier?" Nina demanded a second time.

Gently, his eyes moist from grief, Xavier reluctantly forced out the words. "Nina, there's been... an accident. A bad accident."

Nina, in shock, stood there silently, listening.

"It all happened so fast. There was a cave-in. We couldn't do anything about it. So sudden, no warning. Clyden and I had just gotten onto the lift to take us back up to ground level, and George lagged only a few yards behind us because he talked to the miners, he asked them about conditions at the mines. To the end, he worried about their health, and he asked about their working hours per shift. Then- there was an explosion down the shaft! I don't know if somebody hit a gas pocket, or if a blasting cap blew up prematurely, or somebody inadvertently detonated a chunk of pure fuel. I just don't know what happened- and then the whole roof caved in, tons of rock falling all around. For some reason we survived- barely- the cave-in stopped short of me and Sec. Ldr. Clyden by mere yards. By yards, Nina! But George had not kept up with us. He- he had walked behind us, and was still under the shaft roof where it collapsed- Why were we saved, but poor George- why did George have to be caught in that accident?!" Xavier's voice choked. He took in a deep breath to steady himself.

Listening to his story, Nina narrowed her eyes. A hot blaze roared to life in her stare.

If Xavier noticed, he continued without reacting. "Clyden and I were very shaken. Immediately, the rescue team showed up on the site. I commanded them to dig harder than they had ever dug before. Furiously the miners worked at uncovering their fellow_miners- and George. One miner was pulled out, amazingly alive. Another, crushed under the rock, was too far gone even for a miner to be able to recuperate. So much rubble. Oh, Nina, we never did find George!"

Xavier shook his head, trying even now to comprehend that whole, horrible tragedy. He placed a hand upon Nina's shaking shoulder, declaring, "We won't give up, Nina. We won't stop digging, searching for George. I won't rest until we recover his- until we find him, and I hope it is alive! But... I don't want to give you false hope. To tell you the truth, it looks bad."

"You- you scheming liar!" Nina burst out. "I feared you might do something like this! How could you?" She swung her cue stick at his head, but in a flash 3-S caught it in mid-swing and yanked it from her grip. He set it on the table and resumed his at-ease position.

Nina ran at Xavier, pounding his chest with her fists. Quickly the robot again moved to protect his leader, restraining her without hurting her. Xavier ordered 3-S from the rec hall.

Nina wailed out more accusation. "He isn't some political enemy of yours, Xavier. He's my husband! You did this- How could you? How dare you lie to me?"

"No, Nina, I am innocent. I swear! I would never do anything to harm George, if only because I value your happiness, and I would never do anything to destroy that. You know that. Surely you sense that I still care about you, and what happens to you. You also know I wouldn't hurt someone whom you love."

She sobbed and he put comforting arms about her. "Oh, Nina, I am so sorry to have to tell you such miserable news!" He held her closely in a warm, sympathetic embrace.

Coming to her senses, Nina pulled free, breaking away from his loving arms. "You find him, then, Xavier. You find his body. I won't return to Earth without him, at least not without his body!"

"Yes, of course. And I will do whatever it takes to see that he's found. In the meantime I will also do whatever I can to help you through this time of terrible tragedy- And I will find George, Nina. I promise you that. And then you will know that every word I have spoken is the truth. You'll see."

She wiped her eyes and leaned weakly against the pool table. She struggled to control her sobbing. "Xavier, I- I want to be alone. Please."

He nodded. "I understand." He gently kissed her forehead and turned toward the door. "If you need me, I will be making a report to Earth about this awful mess..." He departed, leaving Nina alone.

Nina sat on the floor, brooding. She didn't know what to do, what to make of these evil tidings. She needed to figure out what to do. Oh, George! she voicelessly groaned.

Number 317

George McCleer no longer knew he was George McCleer. He awoke on a cot in a dimly lit room. The ceiling and the floor consisted of hard rock. His hulking, massive grey body strained the cot. He looked around, confused. On another cot nearby an equally groggy, large-sized creature also looked around in bewilderment.

From somewhere loud, blasting, noisy music thumped in the background, thumped, thumped, constantly thumped... And the air was so dirty, dusty. But it didn't seem to bother him or the other newly awakened creature as they breathed in deeply. Hmm. It seemed to him that the dust should be a bit of a nuisance, but it wasn't.

Some robots stood in the middle of the floor, waiting and watching for their return to consciousness. One robot held some gray coverall uniforms with numbers on them. He gave one with the number "317" marked on it to George. He gave the other, "316", to George's companion in confusion.

George mumbled, "What is this place? What am I doing here?" He looked at the uniform in his hands.

"Put on your uniform, No. 317," a green robot instructed.

He obeyed, and he noticed No. 316 put on his own outfit as well.

The green robot announced, "No.316, No. 317, you two have been chosen to be honored with the greatest kind of life possible for people of your low calibre. You will be allowed to serve our glorious leader, Gov. Bright, by working in the fuel ore mines. This is the highest honor one in your position might hope to achieve, and so you are expected to be grateful to his wonderfulness." The robot went on to expound all the greatness of Gov. Bright, and how in the next few days they would realize how much the governor takes care of them, giving them food and worthwhile vocation and purpose of life.

No. 316 listened and nodded. The new miner digested it with a dawning smile. "Okay, that is good, then. Gov. Bright is good, then."

"Is that so? It is an honor, then, is it, to be given this new kind of life?" No. 317 inquired.

"Yes," the green robot affirmed. "In your previous lives, you lacked purpose, meaning, significance. What and who you were no longer matters. It never did matter. At last you can serve humanity and have a reason to exist. Obeying Gov. Bright validates your existence."

"Gov. Bright gives me purpose and meaning," mumbled 316, the effect of the ID Wipe making his blank personality highly susceptible to the robot's suggestions.

"I- I don't understand," George said.

"You will. Some know it right away in the core of their being, others may take a little longer. But you will soon realize how lucky you are," the green robot reassured him. "Okay, look lively now. These here robots will escort you to the training area, where you will be taught the fine art of digging for fuel ore."

316 smiled sheepishly. "Okay, that sounds great. I want to learn how to be the best I can be as a miner, dedicating my efforts to this Gov. Bright, and being useful to my fellow beings."

"Good. Gov. Bright will appreciate that," said the robot.

George/No. 317 didn't feel the enthusiasm that 316 felt, or appeared to feel. No. 317 wondered what was wrong with him. He felt some impulse to accept the words of the robot at face value, and yet, something for some reason held him back. "This just doesn't seem to be right," he told 316, the two keeping pace with the robots that the green robot had told them to follow, who led them down a meandering dirt tunnel. "I just don't know why we should want to serve this governor so much. What is he to us?"

316 gave 317 a dirty look. "What are you saying? You heard the robot. Before, we had a meaningless life. Now, thanks to Gov. Bright, we actually have a reason to live. And he will take care of us, and see that we have all we need!"

"Oh. I wish I could remember this other life I had, that the robot mentioned. I can't. I wonder why. I wonder why I don't feel this dedication to that leader like you do."

"Your loss," No. 316 sneered. "You don't want to fulfill the purpose of your existence by working for this leader? You don't want to feel the joy of serving him? Are you rebelling against that feeling inside us that says Listen and obey the green robot, accept the truths he teaches us. Naturally we don't remember our previous life. It was so empty, we don't want to remember it, No. 317."

"Oh. Maybe that explains it," said No. 317, not convincing himself.

The robots took them to a long horizontal shaft, where several miners awaited them. These miners greeted the newcomers. All of them were grey, but some of them had a reddish glow. This was the training zone.

The brightest glowing miner introduced himself. "I am No. 25. I am one of the oldest miners here. Most of the numbers before me are gone. Those early numbers were fortunate enough to die in the service of Gov. Bright. In time, I hope to share such an honor, as well, and I hope you, too, will learn to desire such an honor."

No. 316 nodded vigorously. "I do, No. 25, I do!"

No. 317 said nothing.

The old miner (who did not look any older than any of the others- he simply glowed more) continued. "We shall be happy to teach you all we know, so that you can share our joy in digging fuel ore for the governor. First, let No. 36 demonstrate the proper way to swing a pickaxe."

Then No. 36 proceeded to swing the pick against the rocky wall like a wild fool. In between each swing he huffed out, "Try to swing in time with the music. Let it get into you. You're sure to dig more ore. The more ore you dig, the more ore dust you get into your system, until you develop a beautiful red glow like mine. If you don't put your heart into your job, the only glow you'll get is from the dust that's always in the air. That kind of glow takes too long to develop, and a miner'd have to be ashamed if that was the best he could get for a glow!"

"How true!" No. 25 agreed heartily. "And no cheating by trying to swallow fuel ore to get more of it inside you for a better glow!"

No. 316 listened attentively. No. 317 tried to pay attention, also, but he kept wondering how and why he got here.

25 said, "You can tell the achievers from the lazies by their glows. We all hope to one day glow from having so much fuel ore dust in us that our bodies can no longer contain all the fuel ore, and we go up in a bright flash and a puff of smoke. What a great future- Saturating ourselves with so much of the dust because we served Gov. Bright so well!"

"Can that really happen?" asked No. 317.

"I hope so," sighed 316 enthusiastically.

Other hardened miners were present, and each had something to teach the two newbies, under the eyes of a few armed human guards passing by on patrol, who decided to stay and watch. The humans wore headsets over their ears.

The experienced miner hands gave directions, demonstrated proper and improper ways to handle equipment, how to load a cart, how to separate the ore from the common rocks, many things that pertained to mining. This education went on for some time.

"Now I hope that you understand and can mine," said No. 25. He held out the pickaxe. "No. 316, would you like to show us what you have learned?"

"Would I!" Excited, No. 316 snatched the pickaxe and started to swing as wildly as 36 had done at the wall, sending sparks flying here and there.

More observing human guards, who had come by to watch, applauded and cheered on No. 316.

"Whoa, whoa, newbie, easy there," laughed No. 25, impressed with No. 316's enthusiasm. "Don't work yourself into a heart attack on your very first day! Heheh, but then again, you know what they say- If your heart's not taching at 250, you're just not trying!"

316 kept pounding away with the instrument. "What do I care if I do get a heart attack? At least my death will have meaning, as well as my life!"

No. 25 nodded approvingly. "Good for you, brother!" Now he held out another pickaxe for George. "No. 317, show us your stuff!"

George/317 paused, not taking the pickaxe, staring at it in No. 25's hand. "We are only numbers. Did we have names at one time?"

"Does it matter? What matters is how much ore you can mine an hour, right?"

Another miner entered and looked over the recruits. "How are they doing?" he asked. "I came by to see our new brothers."

No. 25 shook his head, frustrated and not understanding. "This No. 317 seems to lack devotion, No. 248. That's weird. It is like he has a defect or something. I hope we don't have to dispose of him."

"Is that so, 317?" asked 248.

Uneasy, 317 explained, "I am unable to feel this- this dedication to this leader the green robot told us of. I don't know why. It's not that I don't want to serve and feel good about doing it. I just can't."

25, still holding the pick for No. 317, threw up his hands in defeat. "See what I mean, 248?"

248 chuckled. He took the pickaxe from No. 25 and put it in George's hands. "That's okay, 317, it'll come to you with time. Meanwhile, just do your job, work as hard as you can, and everything will fall into place and all should be fine."

"Okay, I guess I can do that, at least," agreed 317. "I guess I can work very hard for the governor."

"Now you're talking." Pleased, No. 25 smiled.

"I will work with this one. You help No. 316 adjust."

"My pleasure," said No. 25. "Good luck with that one. He seems open to having a right attitude, but, to be honest, there doesn't seem to be a real breakthrough into the joys of his new existence for No. 317, even though he is willing to work hard for the leader. I almost feel sorry for him."

"Let's move down here, No. 317, so that when you practice your swing, you won't get in No. 316's way."

When they were further away from Nos. 25 and 316 and the others, including the watching Security Agent guards, No. 248 whispered, "I know what you are experiencing, No. 317. Truth is, I am not so sure you will develop this almost blind adoration for this Gov. Bright like you are supposed to, but over time you will learn how to fake it to some extent. But if you are really being watched by someone, then the one watching will certainly grasp that you are just faking it. I don't know what accounts for it, but I have never been able to muster up all that much enthusiasm for the governor, either, even if my life depended on it."

"I hope you can teach me, then, how to disguise my lack of enthusiasm, No. 248. Thank you for telling me this. I am glad to see I am not the only one who is defective, unable to love the governor."

248 confessed, "I am not sure that it is we who are the ones who are defective."

Surprise

"A strike! I'm still the best!" Albert cheered himself, and Jane seconded the cheers. Osmo frowned, seeing all the fallen pins at the end of the lane.

"You got lucky, is all," grumbled Osmo.

Albert replied, "Isn't it funny how luck always favors me, the talented? But seriously, I am glad you took up my invitation and came bowling with us, Osmo." Albert gave his friend a great big hug.

"He-ey!" his friend protested, squirming, checking around to make sure nobody watched this public display of affection between two men.

"Oh, stop it," scolded Jane. "Pretend Sheila is hugging you, then you won't complain."

"I can't. She's a heck of a lot cuter. But you know, guys, I'm glad I came, too. I missed you guys. We should do some things together while we are on vacation, before we return to Earth. We never even can get together for you two to come with for a dinner to meet our host, Gov. Bright."

Jane made a face at the thought of meeting him, despite his generosity toward them because they were Osmo's friends.

Osmo misunderstood and said, "I know, I know, it's my fault, probably, because we all had a chance to get together at the Governor's House, and we stood you up at the beach when we first got here. I am surprised that, even with Sheila's company, I could still be able to miss anyone."

Jane said, "I hate to admit it, but I missed you, too, Osmo. Believe it or not, I, too, am glad you showed up today." She picked up her ball.

Albert told Osmo, "We never spent as much time together here on Hope as we had planned, nor went to as many places as we had talked about. Of course, Sheila kept you occupied. We understand that. No problem there. Jane kept me company, too, anyway, while you were gone with Sheila all these days. And do you know, during my time here, I think I have changed. I wanted to see you at least one last time while we are still together on the World of Hope."

Osmo wondered if his friend had become kooky somehow. "What are you talking about? We'll still hang out together on Earth when we get back like before. I know we'll need to, ugh, get jobs and stuff, and that will give us less time. But I am sure we'll still do things together. But I have to say, I will certainly miss Sheila, then, like I've been missing you two right now. I wish she'd come back with us. Maybe I can talk her into-"

Albert interrupted. "Osmo, I'm not going back. I'm staying here."

"Huh? What?" That caught Osmo off-guard. Usually he did the impulsive, irresponsible thing. "What are you talking about?"

"It's true, buddy. I want to stay and help the people here. They need help. There are many who are squeezed by the hard life here, who need caring hands to help them with their needs. You probably didn't see that side of the city."

Osmo shrugged. "Those people have ample opportunities, provided mostly by Gov. Bright, who is always looking out for them. Gov. Bright sees to their needs as best he can. But they have to help themselves, too. Why stay behind, Al, when there's so much more you can do on Earth? You're not thinking."

"I'm thinking more clearly than ever before. I want to help these people. I know you think Gov. Bright is a good man. I am not so certain. I hesitate to say this, since he is, as you reminded, our host, but I think he is part of the problem, a large part of it. I think his administration does the squeezing. At one time some man named Billy Bob helped the people, until he vanished mysteriously. Nobody knows what happened to him, although there is speculation. I want to stay in Sparkle now, and help the oppressed citizens. I'm no Billy Bob, but I think God's calling me to do that."

Osmo rudely laughed. "Now you're beginning to sound a little goofy, frankly. Well, then, if you don't go back home, why should I go, if my friend stays behind? Maybe I should stay behind, too, to talk some sense into you, eh? Maybe God wants me to do that, heh? Does He speak in a deep bass voice or what?"

Jane sighed. "It's not like that, Osmo. We didn't hear God's actual voice or anything. But, just the same, sometimes one just knows."

Osmo eyed her skeptically. "Oh? I can't imagine it, Jane. Did God tell you- I mean, did you just know, also that you should stay here with Albert?"

"First I will go take care of business on Earth. There are some things I need to wrap up, say 'bye to my folks. Then, yes, I'm coming back here to be with and to help Albert."

"Why, Al, why?" demanded Osmo. "Who do you even know here? Where will you live? How will you earn a living?"

"I already have a job lined up. I know I won't be able to live the way I used to live. I will be moving out from the Hope Hotel shortly, once I find a place. I know it won't be as swank, but I don't care. I'll get by, with the Lord's help. And I know lots of people here. Remember, Jane and I did some volunteering during our time here. We didn't simply sit in our rooms waiting for you, my friend. It may not have been a vacation of going to the beach and resorts, but it was worthwhile. More like a vacation where someone goes to help out in a disaster area, and gives his time to others."

He saw that Osmo still didn't get it. "Look, Osmo, the bottom line these days is that I try to follow what Jesus wants me to do. He's a good role model, a good leader. I have learned to admire Him, to give Him my life and my allegiance."

"Well, yeah, who doesn't admire Jesus, but-"

"Osmo, I think He's actually the Son of God, as He said. And I think He wants me to stay here and help out. Who's dumb enough to say no to God after all Jesus did for us?"

Osmo grabbed at straws, trying to "talk sense" into Albert. "Oh, you know, you can worship Him on Earth as well as here, even better, since the Holy Land is on Earth. And you can do good things there, too, help people there. He'll understand."

"Osmo, I think He wants me to do it here. I don't know why, but He does. I merely listen."

Osmo groaned. "Oh, brother! I never expected you to become a fanatic!"

Jane said, "Ya never know who'll be next- it can even happen to you one day, Osmo!"

Albert added, "The sooner the better. You won't be directionless anymore, then. I'll miss you. You're a good pal. And I am concerned for you. I think you should do something before you go back. Do it for yourself."

"Oh?" Osmo changed the subject. "Look at that split, Jane! Haha, is that the best you can do? I don't think God's helping your game, that's for sure. Now watch me, and take notes." He rolled his ball down the lane and knocked down all the pins. "Yahoo, now that's how it's done, Jane!"

"Very good, almost as good as me- Almost." Albert loved to brag whenever he beat Osmo's score, which was almost always. "But, getting back to the other thing. I think before you leave you should visit-"

Osmo cut him off in mid-sentence. "I know what you're going to say, Al. You know I don't want to talk about that-"

Albert persisted. "I know that in the long run you'll be glad you did. You'll hate yourself if you don't. Osmo, it's time to face it, time to make peace with the past, no matter how much it hurts. For crying out loud, Osmo, visit your mom's memorial!"

Jane nodded. "He's right, Osmo. This planet's been named in her honor. They made a beautiful memorial for her. I've been there, and so has Albert. Everybody's seen it and paid their respects to the memory of a great woman. It's time for her son to visit the site honoring her."

Osmo checked his watch. "Well, will you look at the time! I must go. It was great being with you guys again, even you, Jane, but I'm meeting Sheila at the Governor's House for lunch, so I better get moving. No more time to dawdle. She's picking me up shortly. Take care!" And he left them without any more talking. And, considering Albert's dislike of the governor, Osmo declined to invite them to join them at the lunch, although Sheila was hoping Al and Jane would also be there.

Albert and Jane looked at each other. Jane commented, "Well, he sure took his leave of our company rather quickly. He still can't face the past, and the tragedy of what happened to his mom. Poor Osmo. I hope our little talk with him doesn't give him indigestion."

"I hope it does; perhaps then he will stop and think about what we said, and consider going there to the memorial site finally."

Job Opportunity

Sheila arrived in her truck at the exact same time Osmo exited the bowling alley. They hugged one another, each commending the other for being right on time. Once Osmo settled in, Sheila peeled out, heading for the governor's mansion. Osmo said that it wasn't a good time right now for Albert and Jane to come to the lunch.

Along the way, Sheila, deep in thought, talked little. Curious, Osmo asked, "What's on your mind today?"

She told him about her talk with Nina in the rec hall two nights ago, about how they talked about Sheila's mom, and that was nice. "I wish Mrs. McCleer and I could have talked some more, but then Uncle Xavier came with the most tragic news. How terrible. Mr. McCleer was caught in a cave-in at the mines, and they haven't found him yet. My uncle tells me they don't even know if he is still alive, but they are doing what they can to find him. That's why I didn't even feel like going out last night."

"Poor Mrs. McCleer. That's too bad. I wish there was something that could be done for people is such positions like that, losing a loved one, but... there's nothing that anybody can do..."

"Yes. It is a very uncomfortable fact of life. Her loss made me think of my own loss of my mother, again, and the frustration and anger at not being able to do much about it. She had known my mother very well at one time." She heaved a depressed breath. "I don't know why these things have to happen. I hate the way life works out sometimes."

"Me, too."

Sheila said, "Anyway, my uncle kept reminding me of the time all morning today, so that I fetch you and you aren't late for our lunch. Uncle Xavier says he wants to see you there 'gracing our table', as he puts it. I don't know what's up, but the whole lunch thing is obviously important to him for a reason."

"Hm, I wonder what it can be."

At the Governor's House, Gov. Bright, delighted to see their timely arrival, congratulated Sheila. "Very good. You are becoming more punctual."

"Yeah, I got the impression you had something important to say, so I figured we better be on time," she replied.

Gov. Bright sat at the large meal table. Sec. Ldr. Clyden and Mita also sat there. Mita clung affectionately onto Sec. Ldr. Clyden's arm. This seemed to make the security chief a touch self-conscious and embarrassed, since he had at least ten years on the young woman. With a delicious meal prepared and served by robots, they all looked forward to this lunch. (If it were dinner, however, Xavier would insist on a human chef, still preferring people making a good dinner instead of robots.)

And Nina, of course, didn't join them today.

The governor asked his guest politely, "How was your bowling today, Osmo? I trust you bowled a 300."

"Almost, Gov. Bright, except those bowling shoes at that place don't fit very well. My pair felt uneven, and it threw off my whole game."

Gov. Bright nodded understandingly. "Ah, I see."

Sec. Ldr. Clyden said in a mocking tone, "I hate when that happens." Mita giggled at his humor and gave him a big squeeze. This made him wince, but not because she squeezed too hard.

Osmo answered," And yet, even with those tight bowling shoes, I bet I could slaughter you on the bowling lanes!"

"Ha! Only in your wildest dreams, punk!"

Osmo readied a comeback, but Sheila gently squeezed his hand and, when he glanced at her, she shook her head ever so slightly. He remembered she had worried before about him making Sec. Ldr. Clyden angry with him, and Osmo also remembered they were at the governor's table, so he decided to force himself to be mature and to not argue with the security leader.

Gov. Bright talked casually and cordially with Osmo during the meal. He discussed how much he loved the World of Hope, and he talked of all the advances his people on Hope had made for the world's betterment, and how they had gained some more habitable land zones recently, thanks to experiments with the overworked Enviro-Gens. "It's really becoming a lovely little planet."

"It is," Osmo agreed, waiting to see where this all led.

"To think, we owe all this to your brave mother, who kept the wormhole from destroying Earth when it opened, and which since then has brought us all here from Earth. A wonderful woman, Dr. Hope Martin. I remember her heroism very well, and I want to make sure everyone else who comes here to our world does, too; that's why we made such a beautiful memorial to her. I hope you think it does her justice. I hope it makes you proud to think of her every time you see it."

Osmo grew uncomfortable. He didn't know what to answer the governor.

Sheila quietly said, "Uncle, Osmo didn't see it yet."

This amazed all at the table. Gov. Bright raised his eyebrows. "Would I be out of line if I were to inquire as to the reason?"

Before Osmo could answer, Sheila spoke again. "Uncle Xavier, he doesn't like to talk about it."

Mita found this answering for Osmo very annoying on Sheila's part, but she kept her peace. Time to move on and forget Osmo.

"Oh," was all Gov. Bright said, letting the matter go.

"Why not talk about it?" Sec. Ldr. Clyden wanted to know. "You should honor your mama, you know."

In his job, Clyden developed the habit of getting answers to mysteries and asking point-blank questions.

Gov. Bright shook his head in Clyden's direction. "Sec. Ldr. Clyden, let us respect his privacy."

Clyden, embarrassed at his faux pas, nodded, realizing this wasn't the place to interrogate. At least, not if the governor said no.

Osmo spoke up finally. "No, it's okay, I guess. Maybe I should talk about it once. So my friend Albert said this morning at the bowling alley. It's been so many years, back when I was a kid. I should force myself to accept my loss, I suppose. I must move past the circumstances that led to my mother's unfortunate death. The thought of visiting the memorial- it's like it's commemorating her doom, not her life. I know that's not what it's about, but that's what it seems like to me. Al and Jane said I should visit there before I go back home. I think Albert thinks it will help me make peace with what happened if I do."

"It sounds like good advice," Gov. Bright concurred. "However, it is your choice to make and no one else's."

Sheila added, "I didn't want to say anything to you, Osmo, but I think Albert is right. I appreciated seeing, at my mom's funeral, the way so many people loved her. I was glad to see she meant something to so many. And I would be honored to accompany you, if you do go to the memorial, you know."

The governor turned the flow of the conversation. "But regarding the idea of returning to Earth- I ask you to think carefully over what I am about to propose, and I hope that you don't refuse me, although this, too, is a choice only you can make."

"Aha, I knew that you had something important to say, Uncle," said Sheila.

"What is it, sir?" Osmo respectfully queried.

Sir? Mita found that strange for Osmo. He held such disdain for authority. She only heard him use that term once, as far as she remembered. Way back when he tried to fool the principal about his innocence, or really it was lack of innocence, in the matter of the exploding toilets at the high school. However, when he used "sir" at that time, he obviously lacked sincerity (except he had convinced the principal). Now, though, he said it without hesitation, and it seemed to come from his heart. She found that odd.

Gov. Bright began: "Osmo, I like you. I like you a lot. I find you to be a charming companion for Sheila and even, may I suggest it, a match for my lovely niece-"

"Uncle!" Sheila protested, taken aback by his candid comments. Osmo brought out a shyness in Sheila? Xavier found that funny, but kept it to himself.

Her uncle answered, "Sheila, I have eyes. I see you two have grown close, and are fond of each other. Very good, and why not? You both are quite likable."

Clyden stuffed a pork chop into his mouth to keep from guffawing at that.

Gov. Bright continued: "Osmo, I want you to join my security staff. You and Sec. Ldr. Clyden will be an unbeatable team. I heard how well you handled yourself at the Tourist Trap when you were attacked by those thugs. I want somebody like that protecting Sparkle City."

Sec. Ldr. Clyden almost choked on the chop upon hearing this.

Mita gasped, "Tretl, I thought-"

"Not now, Mita," he sputtered between gaggings.

Concerned, Osmo hopped up and hurried over to give Clyden the Heimlich maneuver. Clyden waved him off. "Okay, okay, I'm okay."

Osmo sat back down. Everybody asked Clyden if he were okay, and he assured them he was.

Osmo leaned back in his chair and mused over the governor's generous offer, stunned to be offered such a spot. He took a moment to answer, then said, "I am very honored to have been considered for such a position, Gov. Bright."

Sec. Ldr. Clyden spoke up. "Gov. Xavier, he's so young- And you know he'll miss his family back on Earth if he stays here." Despite the governor's obvious desire in this matter to have Osmo accept, Clyden wanted to persuade the punk to go home once.

"He may be young, but he thinks quickly in an emergency," said Sheila. "He hurried over to you to give you aide just now!"

Gov. Bright reminded Sec. Ldr. Clyden, "I am sure he will miss Mr. Martin. But all great men, on the way to being great, must make difficult choices. Most of us who have come to the World of Hope have left behind loved ones. But to live here, we must say good-bye to the lives we had back on Earth. And, even though life can sometimes be hard here, it is easy for one to fall in love with our little world and decide to stay. I think Osmo is mature enough to make such a choice work for him, if he wants."

Mita, meanwhile, glared at no one in particular, and said nothing.

But Clyden further said, "And there's one other thing, Gov. Xavier. You know as well as I that, well, let's face it, Osmo Martin has led an undisciplined lifestyle. We all heard stories on Hope about his doings back on Earth."

Sheila pointed out, "Sec. Ldr. Clyden, that was before. He's changed. He's not quite like he used to be. Osmo doesn't drink anymore- well, not much, that is. He keeps his dates with me- and I also have been keeping mine with him-"

Gov. Bright smiled and patted Sec. Ldr. Clyden's shoulder good-naturedly. "I trust a little training under you personally will give him enough discipline to be able to do the job. What do you say, Osmo?"

"Well, I will certainly give it a lot of thought, but I already know my answer, and it is a definite YES!"

"Good, then it's settled." This obviously pleased the smiling Gov. Bright. He turned to Clyden. "And when can you begin the training, then?"

"Um, almost immediately," he mumbled, trying to hide his anger. Then, as he considered this turn of events, a shadow crossed his face. He smiled. "Why, yes, maybe it is a good idea if I will be personally training the pun- Mr. Martin."

Osmo gulped at the thought, but he didn't change his mind.

Mita had observed Clyden's initial hidden fury, and she also noted how, despite how he felt, he backed down so easily from arguing with Gov. Bright against Osmo joining the force. And now he wanted to train him even! What was that all about? And what was worse yet-

She whispered into Clyden's ear, "I thought you were going to get me a job in security!"

"And I will!" he whispered back. "You and Osmo went to school together. You can train together, too. What's the big deal?"

As Osmo and Sheila and the governor chatted happily about the new job, Mita answered back in a low voice, "The big deal is that, now, with Osmo in the job, if there is a promotion once you talk Gov. Bright into making you Lt. Governor, that I won't get the promotion to your position. You know Sheila will probably suggest Gov. Bright put Osmo there as the security chief once you move up, despite Osmo being obviously unqualified. And just when do you expect to become Lt. Governor, anyway? No thanks, I don't want that job anymore, Tretl."

Sheila interrupted their whisperings, asking, "Mita, it looks like Osmo isn't going back to Earth for awhile. How about you, what are your plans?"

She replied, "Osmo and Albert came here together but separately from me. I just happened to be on the same flight. However, I had given some thoughts to staying here, making a life for myself here on the World of Hope. Maybe I will, but I haven't yet decided. But I think I will stick around yet, see what comes up, what the future holds for me here."

"Oh, I am sure it will only be good things for you on our humble planet, during your stay, no matter how long or short it is. I think you will find it worth your time," said Gov. Bright. Whenever he got the chance, he liked to brag up this world.

Mita looked at Clyden and then at Osmo. Yeah, right, she thought.

George's Secret

X-9 entered unannounced with a tray of food for Nina. She sat limply on the chair, her vacant eyes staring at nothing in the empty suite. She ignored the robot.

"Ma'm, excuse me-" he tried to get her attention.

She looked over. "Oh? What is it, X-9?"

He held out the tray toward her. "Ma'm, Gov. Bright said he is worried, and he has instructed me to bring you food."

"I'm not hungry, thank you."

"Ma'm, Gov. Bright said I must do whatever I can to convince you to eat, since you won't have any leave the suite, nor will you allow any company to visit you."

So tired and emotionally drained, Nina was unable to even get upset. She pointed to the coffee table. "Oh. Okay. Leave it on that table then."

The robot obeyed. He poured her a glass of water and held it out to her.

"Okay, you can go," she said.

Still holding out the water, X-9 replied, "Ma'm, Gov. Bright said-"

Disinterested, Nina told him, "I don't care what Gov. Bright said. Until Xavier can tell me he found the body of my husband and can produce proof that the accident actually happened, I don't want to hear anything that Gov. Bright says."

"Yes, ma'm."

"And please be sure to tell him that, X-9."

"Yes, ma'm." X-9 left the tray of food and the glass of water and went out.

When X-9 reported to Xavier Nina's message, the governor frowned. "Okay, you are dismissed. Return to Mrs. McCleer. Do what you can to help her in her time of grief, and to help her recover from her loss."

"Yes, sir."

Watching the departing robot, Xavier thought long thoughts to himself...

Her eyes said it all when I gave her the news about the cave-in. Even before she called me out on it, her eyes saw right through me. At one time, she never considered anything which I said could not be true and right. Then George must have habitually contradicted me behind my back, and so poisoned her mind. How else can it be explained? Can I once again persuade her over time, as before, now that he is gone? I don't see even a hint of a change in her attitude, a softening to suggest that maybe she could accept my version of events. None. I begin to think it is an exercise in futility, as they say, to expect such a thing.

George, what have you done to me? George, what trouble you still cause me, despite the fact that your identity has been wiped. I think I shall see that your crew leaders demand more from you than from the other miners. I will tell the mines leaders to be merciless with you, my dear ex-room-mate. It may not win me the affections of Nina, but it will make me feel better about the situation.

Meanwhile, X-9 once more joined Nina at her rooms, as per Xavier's instructions. She told him to leave her alone. By now the robot knew better than to try to change her mind if she wanted solitude. He stood outside the door, awaiting any orders or commands from her but knowing none would be coming, probably none for a long, long time.

Nina continued to brood, staring at nothing again. Her mind drained of any thoughts. She had spent the last few night trying to come up with a way to ascertain exactly what did happen to George. Was he really dead? Or might he still be alive somewhere? Did Xavier make him a miner? Or did Xavier actually tell her the truth? She hated to blame him if he were an innocent man, but she knew all about the people occasionally disappearing from Sparkle City. And she wanted to think better of an old friend, but she could not forget his blazing eyes for that brief moment when George had rebuked him in public.

She decided to poke a little bit at the food. Maybe some nourishment might re-energize her mind, giving her the ability to think again.

If George was still alive, did he have adequate food? Tasty food? Or was he forced to eat something a pig would refuse? Worse, was he trapped under some rubble in an air pocket, slowly starving?

Nina glanced at her husband's traveling case leaning against the wall. Still unpacked. Each time she mentioned taking care of it, George said he would do it, because there were papers there he didn't want to get mixed up, important papers, and he would unpack it later. However, from time to time, she had observed him opening it and taking out a few papers, only to put them back, later. He never made a real effort to unpack it. It seemed he would never get the chance.

Nina realized, after several bites of food, sitting around here did nothing for George. Or for herself. If she couldn't figure out a plan of action for finding the truth, at least she could do some activity to keep her mind from atrophying, until an idea did occur to her about how to solve the mystery.

She went over to the case and opened it. Whatever papers George had in there, it might be prudent to sort through them, see what was what. Maybe Earth would be asking for some of these important documents.

Nina took out two folders overstuffed with papers. She started paging through the contents of the first folder. Nothing special. Receipts, shipment billings, inventory analyses. Very dull stuff.

"I hope the second folder is somewhat more exciting."

Her wish came true. Underneath several sheets she found an almost wafer-thin plastic black square with a few small pinholes and three buttons in the corner. This strange device puzzled her. She lifted it out from the folder and studied it. Why should George hide it among the papers? What in the world was that thing? So George kept a secret! But why, what was its purpose?

Only one way to find out.

Nina pressed first one button, then another, then the last. She kept this up until suddenly the object lit up. Now we're getting somewhere! She picked it up and peered very closely. No screen appeared. What could this thing be? She held it to her ear and shook it. Unexpectedly, a voice squeaked out of it, startling her enough that she dropped it.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" asked the voice.

"Who is this?" Nina wanted to know.

"This is... Verify Ops speaking. Who is this? Is this Mrs. McCleer?"

"Yes- yes, it is! But who or what is Verify Ops?"

"We are stationed on Earth, ma'm. This is Mr. McCleer's scrambled communicator. Have no fear, ma'm, you can talk secretly with us on this device and not be detected, but it might be advisable to go to the shower and turn on the water to prevent eavesdropping."

Puzzled, nevertheless Nina followed the advice. "Okay, now what?"

"Did he find it?"

"Did who find what?" Did the other person mean, did the governor find George's body?

A long, long pause from the Earth end. "We have heard of your loss, ma'm. Please accept our sympathies. This link has been kept open and monitored, despite the tragic news, in case the situation somehow did not match the facts, or new facts came to light."

Nina gave her take on the matter. "People disappearing or having accidents seems to happen a lot here. So I have my doubts about the official account. I... I don't know what to do about it, though. How can I find out the truth? Can you- can Earth help me somehow?"

After another long pause and some whispering on the other end, the voice squeaked again. "We have Gov. Bright's reports in front of us. Admittedly, the official account from the World of Hope's Security Agency is questionable. Your suspicions are echoed here, ma'm."

"Then what will you do about it?" Nina demanded. "You can't let Xavier continue this way, ruling the World of Hope like a dictator and putting anyone he wants in the mines!"

The other answered, "He gets results, and so there has to be a certain amount of patience extended toward him and his ways, but it is unwise to allow him to treat our sent representatives maliciously. There will be another representative arriving from Earth to investigate the matter, ma'm."

She felt gratitude for this news. "Good! When?"

"Soon, Mrs. McCleer, soon."

The Memorial

"Ooo! Boy, do you look good today!" was how Sheila greeted Osmo when he opened the door of his rooms at Hotel Hope.

He kissed her cheek. "I look good every day. But today I am wearing my Sunday best out of respect for my mother."

"If she can see you when we visit her memorial, she'll be very happy to see how handsome you turned out to be."

He turned back into the room. "Oh, I almost forgot this!" He showed her his small camera. "I want to show my father pics of the place... and, of course, also how good I look today, like I do every other day!"

The two of them enjoyed each other's company on the way. Osmo drove Sheila's truck. Osmo hadn't asked Albert or Jane to join them. Not that he didn't like their company. He valued their friendship. This, however, was such an intimate event for him. He preferred to visit the memorial with only Sheila.

Osmo related to her how Albert had told him he decided to stay on Hope, so he was going to look for a place to move into, rather than continuing to let Gov. Bright foot the bill for his rooms at Hope Hotel. Osmo said Albert had tried to explain how the greatness of Jesus motivated him. Osmo didn't understand at first, but now, since Gov. Bright offered him a position with his security team, he told Sheila he thought he was beginning to comprehend Osmo's excitement of being inspired by someone who was great.

"Your uncle is a great man, too, Sheila-"

"I know. I am always the one who tells you that."

"Yes. And it is really true. I think I will like working for him. Between you and him, I can see that there's more to life than just partying. I see sometimes being responsible can be a good thing. I used to think it was stupid. Look what it got my mom! I loved to live an undisciplined life, doing pretty much what I liked. I suspect it kept me from thinking about my mother's tragedy. I was not willing to grow up and face the facts of life, although I knew one day I must. That day is today. Today, all that's behind me."

"It's nice to hear you talk like that, with maturity," she told him. "I, also, find myself less inclined to enjoy a good party and to heck with everything and everybody else. Mind you, I never quite mastered that like you did, but I, unfortunately, had my bad moments, also. With you, I am expecting better things now. You do this to me, Osmo. Honestly, I don't need that wild living anymore- Maybe once in awhile, I guess. Your company goes a long way to keeping me content. Content in a way my uncle's care never could."

Osmo hunted for a decent parking spot. Many tourists came here to the memorial. The site's guide was giving a lecture in the middle of the plaza. Remnants of the destroyed space station, sealed in preservation cubes, were placed in a circle in the center of the plaza. Miss Rubble the tour guide stood in the midst of the blocks. And several other blocks dotted the landscape of the park. Past the plaza a beautiful lawn full of shrubs and flowers stretched far and wide.

Miss Rubble recited the history behind the ruins of the smashed space station. She tried to keep the story fresh, although she gave the same speech every day, ten times a day, six and a half days a week.

All eyes focused on Miss Rubble and the pieces of the wreck. Nobody noticed Osmo, nor realized his kinship with the one this place honored- Hope Martin.

Miss Rubble said:

"More than a dozen years ago, Earth experienced one of its hardest times. Most of you here today can remember all that. Energy shortages. Food shortages. Money shortages. Land shortages. These shortages brought out the worst in our homeworld's nations. Each country tried to acquire at least enough for an adequate supply for its own population. Territorial disputes quickly escalated into wars. Things looked dire.

"On an international space station, the Peace Lab, as it was called, a team of scientists, which included Hope Martin, worked tirelessly to find solutions. Some of the experiments conducted were deemed too controversial and dangerous to conduct on Earth, such as creating new hybrids of plants and animals that, if they got loose on the ground, might contaminate and foul the flora and fauna on Earth. Dr. Martin's crew hoped to find a new source of energy, with the prayer that if they did, it might relieve some of the tensions on the world that caused so much pressure of demand for a lacking supply of energy. They wanted to come up with some substitute energy before a massive world-wide war exploded over the supplies. If anything, however, went wrong with those experiments conducted aboard the space station way out in the vacuum of space, the world would be safe from a catastrophe. Only the space station and its inhabitants were in danger- so they supposed.

"One such test, to tap the potential energy inherent in the very nature of how our universe exists, produced an unforeseen by-product- a small anomaly, a black hole, formed within the lab of the space station. Quickly, in mere seconds, it grew and grew and grew! Chaotic and unstable, it readied to open into a wormhole, and then-

"Mrs. Martin gave the order to abandon the Peace Lab. All the other technicians protested, because Mrs. Martin planned to stay behind. She assured them that she would follow right after them, so leave an escape pod for her, but first she had to move the space station as far from the Earth as possible in as short a time as possible. She calculated the wormhole would, in a matter of less than an hour, grow so big it would swallow the world. If she could move it far enough out of range from Earth and the moon, it might not have enough to feed it, and it might stop expanding and instead stabilize at a set size. And Earth might be saved.

"Trying an unheard of scheme, using some of the equipment from another experiment, she managed to trap the anomaly temporarily in the lab in a gravity bubble. She also managed to coax the navigation system to budge the space station out of its orbit, away from Earth. She somehow estimated she had just enough time. Or she just prayed and hoped she did. No one knows for sure.

"Her estimates turned out to be correct- The gravity trap slowed its growth enough for her to move it via the space station, but then it finally fed on the gravity trap itself, and, in another spurt, expanded again, breaching the hull of the Peace Lab and sucking in the space station itself, into the opening wormhole, breaking it to pieces. Poor, heroic Dr. Martin had no time to escape, only time to turn on the SOS beacon. With nothing else to feed on, the anomaly stabilized, and its other end opened into this galaxy.

"She gave her life to save Earth.

"The SOS beacon continued to broadcast throughout the entire ordeal, its signal traveling through the wormhole and Earth picking it up. But they received no personal transmissions from Mrs. Martin, unfortunately. They didn't know if she was alive or not.

"A few probes were sent into the wormhole, but before any conclusions could be reached about how safe it was on this side of the space tunnel, a daring rescue squad embarked on a journey to find out what had happened to the brave heroine. They boarded a rocket and headed into space, setting their bearing to the wormhole far above the planet. Without hesitation, they ventured into the wormhole and followed the distress beacon all the way to the other side, to our small but wonderful little planet here.

"It didn't take long for them to locate the smashed space station, following the signal. It led the rescuers to this very spot. Sadly, very sadly, they could not find Mrs. Martin. Not a trace. Undoubtedly her body had disintegrated upon impact. They also discovered thriving, growing plants around the crash site and about this globe, some being the product of tested accellerants that were to promote rapid growth. Not only that, several escaped groups of hybrid animals had managed to survive the crashlanding and also prowled the new world. The rescue team excitedly realized that this place could become habitable, and if it could be made into a place where humans can live, then that would take some of the pressures off the people of Earth for more living space. And so came the idea of colonizing this planet.

"Most of the scientists from the Peace Lab had survived the disaster in life pods and reached Earth, thanks to the courage of Hope Martin. To honor her sacrifice, Mr. Gunther Martin began a project to develop this world, and he named it after his lost wife. This is her crash site. It became a special place on our world. Many of the original plants that had sprung up were cultivated into the beautiful gardens you see at this memorial. And over time, Sparkle City sprang up also around the site. But this land where we stand, this right from the start was marked as land for honoring Mrs. Martin.

"Early pioneers engineered a more terrestrial-like environment, and over the years have expanded the better livable zones. When explorers discovered this world is so full of fuel ore, and that the ore could save Earth from further energy shortages, then it was like a euphoria broke out on Earth. This find helped to promote international co-operation and goodwill on massive scales all over again."

After the lecture, the tourists moved on, splitting into small groups, admiring the landscaping, the park buildings such as the chic restaurant, the gardens. Osmo stayed in the plaza, staring at the preserved wreckage of the space station. It had been too scattered to find all the remains, but enough of it had been found right here, along with the distress beacon. This, then, was his mother's crash site.

Sheila silently reached down and took his hand. He looked over at her. "Do you think this world and its fuel ore is the reason the countries on Earth started to co-operate with each other again, because of less shortages and things like that?"

"From what I gather, the threat level for major wars has dropped since then, making the world-governance of Earth more of a reality. What are your thoughts on the matter, Osmo?"

"Albert and Jane suspect that for the majority of those who were our leaders on Earth, it was often about power, about who has the most power, who stayed in control, to run the Earth the way each thought best. The shortages are just an excuse to try to grab more power, only most of the people don't even realize it." After a moment, Osmo added, "I don't know what I think about it. I think Al thinks too much."

"Well, if he's correct, at least now with the discovery of the fuel ore, they have one less excuse to wage a war, I suppose." She kissed him and he spouted no more philosophy.

Lost Camera

Nina McCleer carried a large book under her arm, walking in solitude in the Morning Garden under the early sun at the Governor's House. To the casual observer, she appeared to be out for an early morning stroll, ready to read poetry from one of the library's rare items. She refused to hide in the suite all day long, pining away to know the truth of George's fate. She saw no point in letting herself fall apart, in case he was found and returned to her alive. She didn't want him to see her broken and despairing. And if Xavier's story turned out to be the truth, that her husband indeed had died under tons of rock from a cave-in, she knew he would never want her to bereave herself to death.

She brought the volume along, not to read, but because she hid in between its pages the secret communicator that George had brought along on their trip. Nina kept it on hand at all times, to be ready to answer when Verify Ops called from Earth to let her know the date they would be sending their representative to explore the matter of George's disappearance. She wanted to meet him at the rocket port upon his arrival, to explain to him things as she saw them.

Naturally, Nina hid all this from Xavier. Why let him know what's coming and prepare him to hide evidence?

The sudden appearance of the governor, along with his niece and Osmo, in the very same garden while she considered all this, caught her completely off-guard. She hugged the book tightly, to muffle the sound of the transmission if the people of Earth should decide to call back now while the others were here to hear.

Xavier found her presence there equally unanticipated, but delightful. "Nina! How good to see you up and about!"

Sheila and Osmo greeted Mrs. McCleer as well, and asked, with genuine concern, how she was doing.

"I... am holding on, I guess," she told them. She sighed and steadied herself against a bench she was about to sit upon. "But I- I guess, though, I don't feel as well as I at first thought I would. If you all will please pardon me, I- I feel faint. I think I will go inside to lie down for awhile."

"Of course. Of course. It is understandable. Please take care of yourself," said Xavier. Inside his heart, he wished he could win her trust again, like in the old days. He sighed. One can be a great man, and yet it is still no guarantee of a life absent of great disappointment.

When she left, Sheila shook her head sadly. "Uncle, she is crushed. It is very hard for Mrs. McCleer. She loved- loves him so much. I heard it in her voice, that day of the accident. We were talking just before you came with the awful news."

Xavier replied, "All we can do is hope that in time she will recover, that it will not hurt her then as much as surely it does now."

The governor abruptly changed the subject. "I appreciate your coming at this early hour, Osmo."

"No problem," Osmo assured him. "When my training starts, which will be shortly, per Sec. Ldr. Clyden, I imagine the hours will be long and hard. I think then I will be up very early, and not get to rest until very late. Might as well get used to it. As my father used to try to tell me, a little discipline is good for a person."

Gov. Bright chuckled good-naturedly. "Of course, of course. The reason I asked Sheila to bring you this morning is because my regular report to Earth is scheduled in a few minutes. I wanted to inform your father of your decision to take a job with the Security Agency, and I thought it appropriate for you to tell him yourself. It might mean a lot to him, to see his boy growing into a man."

"A fine idea, Gov. Bright," complimented Osmo. "I also want to show him the photos we took of the memorial. He will like that, seeing how well-maintained the caretakers keep the park, probably just like he remembers it from the last time he was here."

"I am glad you noticed our meticulous care. As I said before, your mother deserves the highest honor."

Sheila asked Osmo, "So, then, if you plan to show your dad your photos, you must have remembered where you lost your camera?"

"I didn't exactly find it yet, but I think it fell behind or under the sofa in the rec hall when I set it upon the back of the sofa after viewing the pictures."

Xavier checked his watch. "You'd better hurry and fetch it. I connect with Earth in five minutes."

"Okay, I'm there," said Osmo, turning and charging into the mansion through a nearby door and dashing down the hall toward the rec hall.

Meanwhile, Nina already sat on that sofa in the rec hall. She had only reached there, and not her suite, when Verify Ops radioed her. "Mrs. McCleer, are you there? Mrs. McCleer?"

She sat with her book on the sofa after having ascertained that nobody was in the hallway beyond the rec hall, including no robots. Opening the book, she took out the comm-unit and pressed the proper buttons to make it two-way. Whispering, she affirmed hearing the speaker.

The voice told her, "Our representative shall be arriving two days from now. Please be so kind as to meet him at the rocketport."

"Will do," she answered- Oh! She heard footsteps coming along the corridor outside the rec hall. She shoved the comm square back into the book and rushed out of there with the book from the back exit. She didn't realize the comm-unit fell from the pages inside the book.

Osmo just missed seeing her leave as he entered.

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

Shocked, Osmo stared at the comm-unit. What's this? What's this? What was that voice talking about? Mrs.McCleer apparently, with this secret communications device, plotted with Earth against the governor! No! She seemed so nice! Maybe, Osmo reasoned within himself, the loss of her husband was too much for her mind. But where did she get this device?

He didn't think it right for her to betray her host, and, he had to admit, he didn't know what the wise governor would deem the best way to treat the matter. He also didn't want to get her in trouble reporting the matter to the governor. She already suffered so much. If Gov. Bright sent her back to Earth while she was still in this mourning phase, and obviously so confused, if he sent her away from here before they could reach her husband's body and she could have a proper funeral for him or take the body back with her to Earth, then it might be too much for her already in her state of mental turmoil, and who knows if she would ever recover.

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

When he heard advancing voices and footsteps in the outside corridor- those of Gov. Bright and Sheila- his impulsive side took over. Without thinking anymore, he took the square device and pushed it behind the heavy bookshelf setting tight against the wall. There! Now nobody could get the strange thing, whatever it was, because first one had to empty all the books from the shelf before ever trying to move the heavy bookshelf. Maybe Osmo could move it without taking off the books, but it was a cinch Mrs. McCleer would not be strong enough for such a task. Now Mrs. McCleer wouldn't find the secret communicator and be able to plot against Sheila's uncle, and at the same time Gov. Bright would be none the wiser. Now, no one would be hurt. And, wedged in between the wall and the shelf, no one could hear the muffled voice calling from Earth. Problem solved!

He quickly got it hid and Gov. Bright opened the door. "Hurry, Osmo time's almost up. We want to be punctual with Earth."

"Got it!" He held up his camera for them to see and then he hurried out the door to join them.

When Nina returned later looking for the comm-link, she shrugged. "If it isn't here, then where could it be? Anyway, two days from now, it won't matter, when the rep from Earth finally arrives and figures out what really happened in the mines."

Fantastic News

While Nina considered searching the trash (maybe somebody found the square comm-unit, and, not knowing its purpose, tossed it away), Xavier, in his telecommunications room off to the side of his inside office, delivered another routine report to Earth.

Onscreen Earth Agent Doris had a few minor questions about fuel ore production. After that, "Thank you, Gov. Bright. Do you have anything more you wish to add?"

He replied, "Thus ends my official report. However, I do have another matter to deal with as long as we have open channels."

In the outer office, Osmo stood awaiting the governor's summons. The governor's secretary, Mrs. Kline, continued on her work, not being distracted by visitors. Sheila stood by Osmo's side. They reviewed the photos on his digi-cam. "Here's one of Al and Jane trying to beat my bowling average... I don't have that many pictures of him. I don't see much of him these days. He is always trying to heal all the hurts of the world or something."

Sheila smiled. "Well, if that's his hobby, I think he will never run out of projects to work on. In that regard, he is like my uncle. Uncle Xavier, too, wants to make this a better world."

Inside the tele-comm room- the nearby Security Administration building housed the main communications center, which did its best to keep connections open between Earth and Hope- , Gov. Bright inquired whether Mr. Martin was available. In a moment, Gunther Martin's face appeared onscreen. "I am glad you wished to see me, Gov. Bright, for, you see, I, too, also wanted to see you."

"Oh?"

"Indeed. As you know, Martinology has been a big developer of and player on the World of Hope in the planet's early stages. I continue to watch over it, and to help the steering Committee guide its direction."

Gov. Bright nodded. "It is as you say- I am of course well acquainted with that fact, Mr. Martin. But what is it that you wish to tell me?"

"There have long been rumors which claim you are a tyrant. Some of these rumors have reached Earth-"

The other man interrupted him. "Mr. Martin, what works on Earth to run things doesn't necessarily mean it will work here. My methods may sometimes come across as harsh, but it is for the overall good of everybody else. We cannot continue to function and to work for the good of everybody, if we allow a few trouble-makers to distract us from our goal, or if we let them do whatever they want, and then coddle them and tell them it is okay. No, in order to be a law-abiding society, we need law-abiding citizens. When we see a crime, we must deal with it."

"Let me finish," Gunther Martin insisted. "At this time it is not your methods which concern me. I understand, for example, that you post your face everywhere on Hope, as a way to motivate the people there, and things like that. If it works, great. But the thing that makes me concerned is the incredibly huge and convenient coincidence in the matter of George McCleer. Mr. McCleer's record showed him to be a good and impartial man. That is why he had been selected to assess the way things are on the World of Hope. And then, with some of his reports nearing completion, a day before his conclusions were due, he had that terrible accident. And now he is gone. I simply am unable to accept all that as mere coincidence! What kind of report did he plan to make, do you know? Would it have been a good report, or a bad one?"

"How would I know, Mr. Martin? Whether it would have been good or bad, I don't care." Gov. Bright spoke curtly. "I cannot see what reason he would have to file a bad report, but that isn't the issue here. This is the way it is: Earth sent me here to do a job. And I am doing it in the best way possible. But if he thought I did the job less adequately than someone else, and advises my removal, so be it. He is- was Earth's representative. I respect that. I know the proper chain of command. I also know you are not an official member of the Committee, but often speak on behalf of your friend Leader Bigges, so I respect your unofficial status. I imagine he has asked you to speak to me about this, because he mistakenly believes your more diplomatic nature will make it less insulting to me." At this point, his tone became more angry. "Now, tell me, are you insinuating that I caused the cave-in, because why else would you call it a coincidence? If that is what you think, do not hide your meaning! Say it out loud and to my face, and do not worry about tact or insulting me!" The governor's cheeks turned a bright red as he worked himself into a bona fide anger over the matter.

.

Gunther eyed Xavier, trying to determine if Xavier experienced genuine wrath or not. Gunther couldn't decide. "Gov. Bright, surely you can see the odds against Mr. McCleer's accident occurring just when it did really are astronomical. I assure you, I mention this because it needs to be discussed; my goal is not to insult you, but to arrive at the truth."

Feigning disgust, the governor snapped, "It may not be your goal, but it may as well be- It is the same effect. Now, how hard it is to imagine a cave-in at the mines? Those odds are far from astronomical, my friend. And, get this, it is the Earth Leader's own fault, if anyone's! I've been asking for more equipment, better safety aides, and a whole host of other things besides that. Yet you people there keep your fist closed tightly, forcing us to beg for every crumb we get! The Leaders want to save money and keep us on Hope as their serfs, and now observe what it has gotten them- the death of poor Mr. McCleer!"

Gunther considered all that Xavier said. He made no comment.

Xavier's disposition began to soften a bit. "Look, Mr. Martin, if you don't trust me, okay. I can deal with that. In a position of leadership, I know one must develop a thick skin. But do you at least trust your own son's judgment about me?"

"What does Osmo have to do with any of this?"

Xavier answered,. "He is the reason I asked to address you, Mr. Martin. I wanted you to hear what I regard as good news."

Gunther wondered what the good news could possibly be. "I'm listening."

"I think it's best if Osmo tells you himself, Mr. Martin."

Xavier buzzed Mrs. Kline from his desk in the tele-comm room. "Send in Osmo Martin, please."

Gov. Bright opened the door to the tele-comm room while Osmo entered the governor's inner office. The governor invited in the youth into the smaller comm-room to speak with his father. And Gov. Bright kept a cheerful face, giving no hint to Osmo of his previous display of temper.

Gunther Martin's face seemed to become happier, just seeing Osmo on the screen. "What is it, son?"

Osmo started with, "Remember how you hated my lack of direction, my irresponsible behaviour, all my partying and pranking-"

Uh oh, now what did you do? Gunther wondered silently. But out loud, he only said, with trepidation, "Um, yes..."

"Well, I've turned over a new leaf," Osmo announced. "I came here for a vacation because I had finished with my schooling, and now- Now I have finished my childhood. I have taken a job, Dad! Can you believe that? A job- me! This vacation has certainly changed me!"

Gunther brightened. "Oh, really? That's... good." Then, his face showed some reservation. "Doing what, though?"

"I am joining Gov. Bright's security force," Osmo said proudly.

"What?!- I don't want to discourage you, but what do you know about security, Osmo?"

Xavier interjected, "Mr. Martin, my top security man, Sec. Ldr. Clyden, will be training your son personally. Osmo and my niece Sheila have become friends, so we see him often here at the Governor's House, and he has impressed me quite a bit with his character."

Gunther titled his head, expecting somebody to jump out any minute and yell "April Fool!" When no one did, he had to verify for himself what he had heard. "Osmo's character impressed you?"

"Yes, Mr. Martin."

Osmo explained, "Since I have spent time with Sheila, it's like she's motivated me to do things differently, to be different. You know, like you always tried to influence me to be better, but I guess I wasn't ready yet, Dad."

"Hmm, this is good to hear, son." Gunther's tone carried approval in it.

"Not only that," Osmo continued, "but Sheila and I visited Mom's memorial together. I had no plans to go see it before, because, well, you know how I always hated to think about that time. It's a wonderful tribute, and I have some photos here for you to view-" He showed his digi-cam. "I hope you can see them with this poor reception. I will send them to you, with Gov. Bright's permission, of course."

Gunther saw them well enough. He nodded his head. "They look very nice. Osmo, you were always pretty much anti-authority. Are you sure you can handle working for Gov. Bright, taking orders and everything?" Again, some doubts resurfaced in his voice.

His son answered, "I think it will be a good learning experience for me, Dad. Gov. Bright isn't the only one impressed with character. The governor has impressed me, as well, with his own character. I hope to learn from him, since my position will keep me in close proximity to him, and maybe I can learn to be a good leader one day, too, like he is- or like you, Dad."

Gunther wished he were there in person so he could shake Xavier's hand. "I marvel at how you've inspired my boy, Gov. Bright. Amazing. I commend you on a job well done."

"Thank you, Mr. Martin." Xavier accepted the compliment graciously.

"Listen," Gunther added, "I hope you understand- What we discussed earlier, I meant no disrespect. We here on Earth merely supposed it should be mentioned, that is all. "

"Understood, Mr. Martin," said Xavier forgivingly.

Gunther also said, "I intend to see exactly what is the problem with the supplies from Earth. I will push for the Leaders to be more generous, if your assessments of the needed supplies are accurate. I shall personally look into the situation, and see what I can do about it."

"Thank you, Mr. Martin. I already have my requests filed with Earth, but, if you like, I can send copies to your personal address."

"Please do. And thanks for being a good role model for my son Osmo."

"My pleasure."

Different Paths

Albert hurried with a shake for the tourist who sat in a stool at the small food stand at the beach. Kelli cautioned him, "Easy, Al, don't go spilling it in your haste to serve the customer."

"Okay, boss," he answered, slowing down to a safer pace.

The next customer who arrived turned out to be Osmo. They greeted each other warmly and Albert asked, "What will you have, sir?"

Osmo laughed at the "sir". "I will have a veggie energy drink. How's the new job? It doesn't look like anything we talked about doing for a living back in school."

"It's only temporary," Albert assured him. He introduced Osmo to Kelli. "She is a good friend, who also likes to help the citizens when she can. She got me this job."

"Where's your other half? I presume she's either doing volunteer duty again or getting ready for her trip back to Earth."

"Jane's saying good-bye to the patients at the hospital," Albert said. "And later tonight, a few of us are having a going-away dinner for her. It will be a tight squeeze, heheh, in my new, small apartment where we'll have the dinner. But we have to send her off in style. Hopefully, she won't take too long taking care of her business on Earth, so she can get back here."

"Hey, maybe tonight I can come here after you get off work and you can show me your new 'palace'."

"Yeah, come meet me tonight, and I will be happy to show you my palace. It might not be the same as Hope Hotel, but I don't feel right living anymore at the hotel as a guest of... well, you know. But, actually, palace isn't quite the way I describe my new place."

"Hey!" Kelli protested. "It's a nice neighborhood. Hardly anybody gets murdered there!"

Albert and Osmo laughed, until they saw she was dead serious. Albert offered, "If you want to then come to the dinner, Osmo, I can tell them to set up another chair of honor, since you, also, are scheduled to leave tomorrow."

Osmo answered, "Well, now, that's another thing-"

But Albert drifted off into his own thoughts, not listening. He sighed. "I already miss her."

Osmo nodded sympathetically. "Don't worry, at least you won't have to miss me. I'm staying here, too- like you are."

Albert set down his beverage. "You're kidding. Right? You aren't kidding! I am very surprised to hear that, Osmo. What is the occasion? You miss me that much?"

"Yeah, right, that's the reason- I start my new job tomorrow, and so I won't be able to go with you to the rocketport to see off Jane. I know it will be a terrible disappointment for Jane. Well, I won't technically be starting the job, yet, but only the training."

Curious, Albert asked, "So what's the new job? Tell me already, buddy!"

Osmo, with pride, told him, "You are looking at the newest member of Gov. Bright's security team. I shall be a Security Agent!"

Hearing such news, Kelli gasped and she dropped the dessert she was carrying for the first customer.

The news caught Albert by surprise as well, and he didn't like it. "What?! Why, Osmo, why?" Albert suddenly remembered to keep his voice hushed, but he continued, clearly upset. "I told you before that Gov. Bright is not a good man. And you can't trust him. The more I had thought about it after we discussed it before, the surer I became that I am right, and that he is... well, oppressive, to say the least."

"Whoa, just a minute, now," Osmo cut him off. "He can't be as bad as all that. Did you see the wonderful memorial he maintains for my mom?"

"Yes, Jane and I saw it when we first got here. I asked you if you wanted to come with us, but you weren't ready. Remember? I admit he has some good points. Most people do. But he- you know how those he doesn't like keep vanishing."

Osmo scowled. "Look, Al, nobody's perfect. You know that. Isn't that part of the Four Spiritual Laws you tell me about? So, give the governor a break. Besides, you know better than to believe all this gossip that blames everything bad on Gov. Bright. He keeps the citizens safe, and now, I will be helping him. Anyway, I will be headquartered nearby at the Security Agency building, in their living quarters, at least for now. I think I can learn a lot from the governor. Do you see how nice Sheila is? Do you think if he were so terrible, she would be such a good woman?"

Kelli tried not to gape, and she forced herself to keep quiet and take care of the new customers.

Albert, meanwhile, shook his head in dismay. "Oh, Osmo, I don't know if Sheila even knows how bad her uncle can be. Of course, he won't let her see his bad side, if he can help it."

Osmo argued, "But she does see his good side, and all the good he does, and she tells me about it. He does his best to see that everyone is provided for. He and Sec. Ldr. Clyden and the Security Agents keep law and order on this planet. Can't you see, Gov. Bright is good for the World of Hope."

Kelli still kept silent, but she listened, and with heaviness of heart for Albert's confused friend.

Albert persisted, concerned for Osmo. "I honestly don't think he can be trusted, Osmo. I think he's a bit too much of a pragmatist. He also seems a bit edgy, if you know what I mean. I met him at the hospital, and he put on a pleasant smile, but I could feel it was not the truth. I concede, under him there is order, but the law I am not so certain about. Think, my friend, before you take this job."

Annoyed, Osmo growled, "I did think. And then I said yes to the job. What do you think, that I just accepted it without considering the matter? As for the governor being untrustworthy, well, he's not the one who hides in the dark. Look at the house church that you mention from time to time. Keeping everything secret, staying in the shadows. Why? What do you have to hide? Very seldom does anyone go public about being in that house church. I know you guys are not up to anything bad, but if I wanted to, I could make false accusations the way you guys do about Sheila's uncle."

Kelli finally spoke up. Well, anyway, she spoke in a loud but discrete whisper. "Mr. Martin, the reason the house church stays out of the way is because the governor, for some reason, persecutes the house church. I think it rattles him that some obey a higher authority than him. Already the church lost Billy Bob. And some others besides him."

Osmo chucked his hands up in the air. He pushed aside his drink. "Oh, I figure, ma'm, you must also be in that church, huh? Well,frankly, you two don't know what you're talking about. I can't believe what I am hearing. Maybe this Billy Bob just got mugged and his body dumped somewhere- Sorry to be so graphic about it, but you know that stuff like that happens, no matter where one is at, whether here or on Earth. And I can't believe I am hearing such concerns and suspicions from you, Albert, what with only gossip to back up the accusations. It seems to me like we see things too differently these days. It doesn't seem like we are able to get past the governor. You're not the Albert I once knew."

"Agreed. And you are no longer the Osmo that went to school with me."

Osmo nodded. "True. I am learning to become a man who now accepts the responsibilities and realities of life. I suggest you think about doing the same."

"Which is exactly what I am doing," Albert countered.

Neither spoke for a minute. Osmo took his drink and finished it. He set the empty glass aside. "Well, if that's all you have to say about my new job, I guess I will be heading back to my rooms at the hotel. I must pack things so I can move to the new place tomorrow after training. And I will leave you guys now, because I need a good night's rest, so I can give my best effort to this training tomorrow morning, so I can learn how to be a good Security Agent to keep the people of Hope safe. See you around, Al."

"Okay. Take care, then," Albert replied.

Albert and Kelli watched Osmo go. Albert sighed. He turned to Kelli. "I don't suppose he will be coming back after my shift is done, to see my new apartment."

"I suppose not, Al," she said.

In Training

By the time the sun woke and began its slow ascent over the horizon, Osmo Martin had already arrived at the Security Agency building's training facilities adjacent to the grounds of the Governor's House. He counted on impressing Security Leader Clyden with his earliness- and perhaps he might overlook that little incident with the parking spot-, except when he arrived, he saw Clyden was already there.

"You're late!" Clyden bellowed. "If you want to make it out of training to become a Security Agent, then you'd better learn to get here on time!"

Dumbfounded, Osmo pointed out, "But- I'm ten minutes early!"

Sec. Ldr. Clyden shook his head. "Uh uh. Two things you better learn right off the bat- One, I am never wrong. Never. So never argue with the Security Leader. And two, if you aren't an hour early for training, then you're late! Got that, punk?"

Osmo almost shot back a sarcastic answer, but then he closed his mouth and nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good. See that backpack over there against that lamppost?"

Osmo did.

"Pick it up and put it on."

Osmo grunted as he hoisted it to sling it onto his back. "This is very heavy. Must weigh seventy pounds. What do you have in it, rocks?"

Clyden chuckled. "Yep, you are correct, punk. So, at least you are perceptive. Now let's get started. Let's do some warm-ups. Keep the pack on, and we'll go for a five mile jog around the track. See if you can keep up with me."

"No problem, sir. Eh, you forgot your backpack, to keep things equal with me."

Now Clyden laughed. "I am sure you agree, an agent must be in good shape if he wants to be in charge of the security of the public and the governor. Hence, I expect you to be able to run wearing that pack. As for me, I already know I am in good shape. I don't need anymore training. So, therefore, I don't need a backpack. Now let's hustle!"

Clyden led the way to the circular track. Osmo followed right behind, in spite of the heavy weight he carried. Osmo kept up with the Security Leader, but only with much effort. He never guessed by looking at him that Clyden kept in such good shape. One lap, two laps, three... Each lap was a quarter mile. After two miles, Osmo began to huff and puff because of the backpack.

"C'mon, pick up the pace, punk! Don't fall behind!" Clyden taunted, still full of energy.

Osmo gave it some more effort and managed to catch up again and keep pace. Will we never finish the five miles?! he silently moaned. Finally, however, they neared the end of the jog. The hot sun and the pack of rocks conspired to make the last mile unendurable, and yet, somehow, Osmo finished.

He gasped and stopped when Clyden did, ready to take off the backpack. Clyden stopped him. "Tell you what, since it's such a nice morning, let's do another mile."

This produced the desired result; Osmo let out a groan. Clyden secretly laughed, but even more secretly, he was impressed at how much the punk could endure.

After the extra running, with the backpack still on, Osmo did a series of push-ups. When he did fifty, and looked like he couldn't do anymore, Clyden called a halt. "Take ten, punk."

Osmo eagerly dropped off the sack of rocks and sank to the grass, trying not to moan out loud.

Ten minutes later, just as he finally got comfortable, Sec. Ldr. Clyden blew a whistle. From where did he get that whistle? wondered Osmo. I didn't even see that he had one.

"Give me fifty sit-ups. Come on, punk, go, go, double-time! Let's move, let's move! Get the lead out!"

Compared to running the six miles with the backpack, the sit-ups were no problem, or so Osmo thought. And when he had finished that grueling workout, he realized he was exhausted.

Next, Clyden took him to the practice range for a little target shooting. This was the same one where they had done clay-shooting with Sheila and Gov. Bright before. But now the mood was certainly different from that carefree day.

"Try not to shoot any of the service robots, please," said Clyden.

One of the robots, B-12, set up ground targets for Osmo. The youth's hands shook from fatigue as he took aim with the blaster Clyden gave him. Osmo tried to steady his hand so he could shoot the center circle.

"Haha, bull's eye!" he cheered when he squeezed off his shot.

Clyden raised his brow. He said nothing, but Osmo discerned the surprise on his face. Apparently Clyden thought Osmo would be too tired to shoot straight. Well, Osmo proved him wrong.

After several minutes on the shooting range, Osmo failed to keep his perfect score, but he did achieve an impressive one. Clyden dismissed him for lunch around noontime. Osmo went off to find some food and drink. Clyden remained at the training facilities.

The Security Leader's cell phone rang on the secure channel, about the only channel on this world which seemed to work dependably. He greeted Mita.

"Oh," he told her, "he's holding up rather well, better than I expected the spoiled rich guy's kid to do. I didn't tell him, of course, but I must say, I am impressed with his stamina."

Mita said, "He liked to work out a lot in school."

"It shows, the way he endures."

"Maybe you just aren't pushing him enough," suggested Mita. "I think you can break him if you really put your mind to it."

"I thought he was a friend of yours."

"I wanted to be friends with him for years, but he never even knew I existed," said Mita. "I think the only reason he acknowledges me now is because, since I come with you from time to time to the Governor's House, he sees me a lot, hanging out with Gov. Bright's niece. Since he was too dumb to realize I wanted to be friends back in school, well, then, I am willing to be not-friends. Maybe he will like that better."

"Oh, so that's the story."

"Right. So don't hold back when you train him just because you think Osmo and I are friends, Tretl. In fact, I recommend you go as hard as you can, to avoid the appearance of favoritism. I am counting on you."

Clyden said, "I don't think anyone will think that I am showing favoritism, not after the work-out I just gave him. But I don't make him suffer for you, Mita. And, if he still means something like that to you, even to the point of you wanting to get back at him, well, then, it sounds to me like he is still in your system, and in some perverted way a rival of mine. I don't like rivalry. I think you should think less about him and more about me."

Clyden listened to her answer over the cell phone, "Oh, I do focus on you very much, Tretl. It's just that I wasted many years over wishing for something, some notice from him, and I want to be paid back for all those wasted years!"

Tretl Clyden didn't comment on that, but he started to think that maybe it was actually better for him if Mita did think more about Osmo than of Clyden. What's in her head, anyway? he asked himself.

Misfit

Bright lights flashed on, the shrill buzzers sounded (above the constant thump, thump of that annoying, always thumping music), and the four hours of wasted sleeping time finally ended, and a whole new shift lay ahead of the devoted peons, another opportunity for them to dig more fuel ore- for the governor! for the beloved leader! Ah, how lucky to be a miner! Life didn't get any better than that!

Almost all of them practically leaped off their cots and yanked on their uniforms, heading for the inspirational room.

(After the early inspirational and breakfast, then the miners would split up into units, rush to their appropriate assignments, and enjoy another fourteen hours of hard work. The harder the better! Robot guards helped herd them and point them the right way in case any were slow or confused. Mostly, as it was, the miners didn't need the robots to help them. If anything, the robots got in the way and slowed them down. But the miners held their tongues, for after all, this is the way Gov. Bright wanted it!)

No. 317 tried to keep in step, although he wished they had more time to really think about all that they were doing. Why must everything be rush-rush-rush? Even the rectime, which was spent talking of the governor, always happened on a high-octane level, everybody competing to show how much more they appreciated the governor and worked so hard for him. Four hours sleep time for their enhanced bodies proved more than enough physically, and a half hour to rush through breakfast and the inspirational, with the another three hours after the shift for rectime- but a high-intensity rectime- Why not let their minds rest a bit more, allow more time for them to reason things through, to reflect and truly think their own thoughts on their own?

He always sat in the back rows during the inspirationals, as No. 248 had advised. He shouted with the rest of the gang, but honestly, this dedication which the others felt for Gov. Bright, 317 still didn't get it.

The Peptalker held up Xavier Bright's picture. The crowd went wild. Whistles, applause, the works, to show their appreciation. Grinning, the Peptalker held up a hand for some quiet. And after five minutes he finally got it. He asked, waving the picture, "Miners, who loves you?"

"Gov. Bright!" they shouted.

"I said, Who loves ya, miners?"

"Gov. Bright!" they screamed back, louder this time.

"Gov. Bright... I guess..." No. 317 mumbled, unable to convince himself.

Sitting in the chair next to him, No. 316 jammed his elbow into No. 317's side. "Jerk! Get with the program! No wonder the supervisors always find fault with your production. If you had even an ounce of devotion, it'd be no problem for you to dig a ton of fuel ore!-" He interrupted his chastisement of his fellow miner to jump to his feet with all the rest and shout a deafening "Gov. Bright loves us!"

In the dining hall, No. 317 got in line, taking a plate and filing past the food(?) servers. The gruel-guy gave 317 only half as much as everyone else. No. 317 stopped moving along, and he pointed out, "Excuse me, but you failed to supply my full allotment of nutrition for the day. How do you expect me to work properly if I am not fed enough? I realize our bodies are wonderfully made, better than before, thanks to Gov. Bright, but we still need food to keep our bodies running. You have been shortchanging me now for the past three days, and I am beginning to get hungry."

Hands on hips, the gruel-guy sneered at him. "Are you, now? Well, ain't that a shame! Look who's talking about short-changing who. I was watching you again at the inspirational. Never have I seen such a tepid response! You're not worthy of a full meal that is provided by the governor. If you can't appreciate the whole meal, maybe you will get so hungry that at least you will be thankful for the half meal that you get. Ha, you'll be thankful for anything soon!"

317 protested, "How can I meet my quotas, if you don't-"

No. 85 remained unmoving, keeping his hands on his hips, obviously not intending to give 317 any more food. The people behind No. 317 became impatient. "Hurry up!" "Move it, buddy!" "Keep the line flowing!" "Today!" "Hey, I want to get digging!"

The miner directly behind 317 gave him a push. "Let's go, 317. Quit holding us back! It's bad enough you don't want to give Gov. Bright your all, but don't hold us back as well!"

317 shrugged and took his tray. He went looking for a welcoming table, but everywhere he went,the many other miners already seated there refused to allow him to sit with them. Finally, he sat alone in the corner, on the rocky dirt floor. Too bad No. 248 wasn't on his meal shift today. At least he would let him join him for breakfast.

During the first twelve hours of his workday, No. 317's team leader harassed and upbraided him at least three times an hour, every hour. Occasionally, the robot guards echoed the complaints, and once in awhile a patrolling human guard (the miners no longer considered themselves human,if they ever had been, since their transformation) also stopped to give 317 some grief.

These human guards were new arrivals to 317, and the older human guards were gone, but then, that was to be expected. The humans rotated their duty served here at the mines on a regular schedule, since prolonged exposure to the slightly radioactive fuel ore dust led to health problems for them if their human bodies were unable to expel the dust in a timely manner. (The radioactivity didn't seem to leave any ill effects on the miners, however. In fact, as No. 25 had told them in training, the dust made the glow brighter and better., and he encouraged them to make as much dust by digging hard, as much as they could.)

Today, 317 felt a little hungry all shift. He wondered how long he could continue like this, not getting enough food. He knew he could continue at his usual vigorous pace, trying to make his quota, for a long, long time, until burn-out occurred. And he didn't think he did any less work than any of the others. He decided to point this out to the team leader of his mining group. He set aside his shovel and walked over to voice his thoughts

.

This enraged the supervisor.

"Why aren't you digging?! And you say you dig as much as anybody else? Look at you- You are not even digging- and even if you are, you still are under quota, just like I already told you! Or are you contradicting me? Gov. Bright won't like that- Oh, but that's okay with you, because you don't care- you don't seem to like Gov. Bright!"

Suddenly, all the banging and shoveling came to a halt. The rest of the miners in the tunnel gaped in disgust at 317.

317 stammered, "I- I never said I don't like Gov. Bright! I don't even know Gov. Bright... do I?"

The supervisor grunted. "Ha, that's a good one! As if he would want to know a slacker like you!"

The other miners nodded their heads in agreement and returned to work. Then, as No. 316 swung his pickaxe at the wall at the very end of the tunnel, a small flash and boom caught everyone by surprise. It vaporized 316 and knocked the other nearby miners to the floor. The force cracked the nearest of the rock column supports, causing the ceiling to sway for a few seconds. Despite his enhanced miner physique, 316 couldn't recover from being blasted to tiny bits and pieces. There was only so much the rapid regeneration powers of the miner physique could do.

The other miners gasped. Carefully, they stood up again and slowly backed away from the end of the tunnel, where the mini-explosion had happened.

The supervisor peered at the few splotches of No. 316, all that was left of him, here and there on the walls and the miners. "Oops. Looks like he must have hit a small pocket of pure fuel. Luckily he didn't connect with a bigger patch, or all of us would be wiped out. Even with all the dust in the air, and the impurities floating about which smother the explosions, a large nugget of pure fuel can wipe out a whole miner group. Huh, and where there's one nugget of pure fuel, there's gotta be more. But now we'll fall behind our quota for sure!"

One digger touched a reddish splotch on his own uniform. He stared at it with happiness and envy. "Lucky 316. What a great way to go- blowing up on the job for the governor."

The supervisor said, "That pure fuel needs to be dug out of the wall, if there is any more embedded in there, so we can get back to work. And dug with great caution, so as not to strike it too hard, and without any sparks from the shovels hitting stone. Without any ore impurities, the pure fuel nuggets are too volatile. Any misstep will assure the guy who did the misstep that he won't have a chance to make anymore mistakes. Good thing this blast took the path of least resistance- outwards, instead of blowing up backwards, into the wall, causing more nuggets of pure fuel to explode, if they are there in the wall, and there are. If that had happened, we'd all be as lucky as No. 316."

The supervisor moved his team down to the opening of the tunnel, as far away as possible from the other end, where 316 had been. There, the tunnel branched off from a larger tunnel. They moved away from even standing in front of the entrance of their assigned work tunnel, and into the larger shaft. Some other miners hurried over to see what had happened, and the team waved them back.

"Okay," said the supervisor, "one of us has to dig out all the pure fuel nuggets and package them securely. It's probably a suicide mission, and it might take several of us before we get all the pure fuel extricated. Well, who wants to be first to blow up for the governor?"

As expected, most of the miners volunteered for the job, fervently shouting, "Me!" "Me!" "No, me!" "Pick me!"

To the disappointment of one and all, the supervisor selected No. 317, who, actually, never even had volunteered.

A jealous miner demanded to know, "Why him? He doesn't even like the governor!"

"Who says?" 317 wanted to know, but in reality he really didn't, since he didn't even know him.

The supervisor explained, "Team, let's give 317 a chance to prove his love for Gov. Bright. If he has an accident- well, with his lousy attitude, I think it is best that, if something happens, it happens to him, and not one of us. It will hurt our team less, I think, if it is only 317 who gets blown up."

The others agreed with this reasoning. Of course, they had to agree. It was well-known that Gov. Bright hated when the underlings argued with their team leaders.

No. 317 resigned himself to the suicide mission. Maybe it was a good thing if he blew up, since he never got the hang of loving the governor...

Alone, 317 walked back into their work tunnel while the others watched from the safety of the larger tunnel beyond. He carried his shovel and didn't look back.

"Be careful!" the supervisor called after him. "One slip, and you'll set us back a month if the tunnel caves in! If you clear out all the nuggets and don't blow up, which I doubt, we will send in the cart for you to pack them safely- I already sent for the packing gel."

Trying to look brave, trying to hide how tense he was, 317 took his shovel and started to cautiously scrape the dirt off the end-wall with his shovel, looking for brilliantly sparkling deposits of pure fuel. He carried away one small shovelful. He brought up the shovel to gently, carefully remove more of the rock wall, sifting and searching, when suddenly-

"Bang!"

No. 317 jumped in surprise, almost scratching his shovel hard against a pure nugget that he had uncovered. He turned and glared back at the practical joker in the tunnel beyond who had yelled the unnerving exclamation.

All the miners (except 317) laughed, and then the supervisor scolded the joker. "Okay, stop that. We need to get the situation under control as quickly as possible, so that we can resume work. We are losing time, and we will have to work extra-hard as it is, to do No. 316's share of digging."

So, after that, the wiseguy kept quiet, letting 317 work undistractedly, but he could hear the other one, even from this distance, giggling to himself over his joke on 317. No. 317 figured he could do the job without blowing up, as long as that jerk kept his mouth shut. At least he had no mad zeal like a regular miner would have in a situation like this, pushing himself to recklessly dig and dig, without enough concern for his own welfare, even while knowing the danger that there must be more of that pure fuel in the wall, leading to accidentally blowing himself up like 316.

Well, No. 317 supposed, this lack of crazy, unthinking zeal, while making him a misfit among the miners, seemed to also work at times like this in his favor... Ooops- careful, careful... Pay attention to what you're doing, don't mess up! Could he finish the task without setting off the pure fuel?...

Good-bye, Jane

Jane got out the old beater vehicle, a van marked Sea of Fun Fun Food Stand, with her carry-on bag. Albert got out the other side, dragging out more of Jane's luggage. Kelli, who had driven Jane to the rocketport, and whose van this was, exited from the front. She grabbed another suitcase off the front passenger seat for Jane.

Even though the dawn sprang to life, the lights of the landing field stayed on, giving lots of illumination for those arriving and those departing.

"Thanks for driving me, Kelli," said Jane, managing to hug her friend despite the carry-on in her arms.

Kelli shushed her. "Now don't you start another long good-bye, Jane. Didn't you have enough crying and sniffling at the going-away dinner last night?" Then Kelli wiped a tear from her own eye, trying to hide it from the other two. "The whole church will miss you, though, Jane."

"I may be absent in body for a short time, but I will always be with you in spirit," replied Jane.

"Wow, the day is young, but look at all the people coming and going," said Albert while they all headed for the proper check-in area for Jane, clear across the rocketport fields.

At the checkpoint, they once more said good-byes. Albert gave Jane a very long, tender embrace and a kiss. She sent her luggage through the customs, and then, with her carry-on, she headed toward the last check station before boarding. Albert and Kelli had to remain behind, not allowed past the initial checkpoint.

Albert sighed deeply. Kelli gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder. "Oh, come now, don't be so sad. Once she finishes up her things on Earth, she'll be back. It shouldn't take more than a month or two."

Albert didn't look convinced. "I don't know why, but I think when she goes to Earth, I'll never see her again. At least, not in this life. I don't know what makes me feel like this. Maybe something will happen on Earth, maybe she won't be able to get back to me, I don't know. I feel this so strongly."

Kelli gaped at him. "Then why didn't you stop her, Albert? Why did you let her go?"

"Why? What if it is just my imagination? I can't stop her for just my imagination. Besides, it's her decision. But also, the truth is, I always fear for her while she is here. You know how the governor seems to strongly dislike the house church. At least she will be safe on Earth. There, the religion board isn't so fanatical."

"Al, she knows the possible trouble she might encounter being in the Sparkle City house church. We all do, but we are in it because we think that's where God wants us to be. If she's not in God's will, is she any safer then on Earth instead of here?"

Albert had no answer. He said, "I think it's more than merely my imagination. But if it is, then shouldn't Jane also be feeling it? If she does, why did she leave anyway?"

The pair returned across the field, back toward the distant parking lot and Kelli's beat up supply van. Halfway there, Albert noticed Nina McCleer standing by herself, looking troubled and confused. Recognizing her, he halted.

"Mrs. McCleer? Are you okay?"

She looked over at him. "Oh, hi. I remember you. I suppose your vacation is over, and you and your friends are all going back to Earth."

"Well, our vacations are indeed over, but only my girlfriend Jane is going back. I have decided to stay," said Albert. "What about you? You seem confused, if you pardon my saying so. Do you need help finding somewhere?"

She faked a smile. "No, I am fine. I was meeting someone here, but I don't know what happened. It seems he didn't come to the World of Hope after all. I don't get it." She tactfully changed the subject. "But you came with a whole gang. That Mita girl was with, the one I sometimes see at the Governor's House with Sec. Ldr. Clyden and sometimes Sheila Bright. And of course Gunther Martin's son, the one who likes to be the center of attention."

"Oh, you still remember his antics on the rocket, eh? And maybe the incident about the fire back on Earth, too... Well, believe it or not, he is staying behind as well. Gov. Bright offered him a position. But Mita wasn't really with our group. I don't know what her plans are."

"Oh." Nina thought about his words. Maybe there was a clue in what he jhad just said, that explained why a representative didn't come from Earth today after all, to help her find out what had really happened to George. If Xavier gave Osmo a nice job- since Nina mostly kept to herself at the mansion, she had not even heard this news- then he might influence the boy to speak with his father, Mr.Gunther Martin, who in turn maybe then decided that Xavier must really be a decent guy after all, who would not harm someone sent from Earth as their representative, and so Mr. Martin might have then recommended to the Earth Leaders not to bother with the investigation. Xavier certainly could be persuasive and convincing when he wanted to be.

A sad reflection on those on Earth, however, if they gave up the investigation so quickly... but, unfortunately, also a very plausible scenario.

Albert introduced her to Kelli O'Mally, who greeted her and said, "I have heard of your husband's tragic accident, Mrs. McCleer. How are you holding up under such circumstances? If there is anything I can do-"

"Accident? I have my doubts. You are a citizen of Hope. Surely you noticed bad things seem to happen to those whom the governor doesn't like. I think Gov. Bright disliked my George very much."

Kelli whispered, "Yes, Mrs. McCleer, we did notice what often happens to people whom he dislikes. We lost Billy Bob, too, and we think he is at the mines. But it is wise to not be so vocal about such matters in such a public place."

"Why?" asked Nina. "What if everyone talks about it in public? Will all the people of Hope have mysterious accidents, or end up in the mines or the farms? He cannot continue this way, if large numbers of folks oppose his tactics. What did you do about it, when Billy Bob vanished?"

"It was hard," said Kelli. "But there wasn't much we could do. He was a good leader for the underground chuch, of which I am a member. The congregation loved Billy Bob. We all miss him, even though God gave us Brother Simon to help lead our meetings. Every meeting we pray for Billy Bob, assuming he is still alive and at the mines. Maybe one day he will be returned to us."

"Isn't there a way to verify if that is what happened to him, that he was stuck in the mines?" asked Nina.

Albert said, "They tried, Mrs. McCleer. They hunted for someone who had a stint there as a guard, but none of them were willing to talk. And, besides that, such inquiries are difficult to make, without drawing unwanted attention. I had heard all the stories of the efforts of the house church to find this Billy Bob."

"Yes, so we still do not really know what's become of him," said Kelli. "It is hard, but so far God gives us the strength to endure. We ask for the strength every meeting. And we get it, too. But it's hard to not know. I don't need to tell you that, though."

"Maybe I should attend one of these house church meetings... I wouldn't mind a little strength to endure until I know for sure," said Nina. "Well, I guess my party isn't going to show. The Earth rocket came about two hours ago, and I still don't see him. I will go find a cab and get back. It was nice meeting you, Mrs. O'Mally. And you, too, again, Albert."

"If you want to attend one of our meetings to see if you like our worship services, you are certainly invited." Kelli told Nina to come see her at her concession stand at the beach if she were interested. Nina liked the idea and they parted.

Kelli and Albert resumed the walk back to the vehicle. When they got there, Albert, puzzled and delighted, found Jane standing there beside the van, waiting there with her carry-on. "Well, it took you two long enough to get back here," she scolded them.

"What gives?" asked Albert. "And where's all your luggage?"

"I think it's about to launch for Earth. I didn't have time to get it," Jane explained. "But I couldn't leave. I couldn't go back there to Earth. Don't laugh, but it is like I was being told I might not ever see you again if I went home. I didn't want to chance going back, in case God was warning me or something. So, I ran back here to the van as fast as I could, before you guys left without me and I would have to walk back into town. I thought you guys were already at the van, and so I didn't look for you as I ran. Must have passed you, but some distance away, and not even realized it, so intent was I to find you. I guess, then, this is my new home from now on. The World of Hope. I decided to stay here, with you, Al, and with the church, just in case it was more than my imagination warning me."

Albert gave her another big hug and kiss, even with more emotion than his good-bye hug, for this was his welcome back embrace.

"Okay, then, it's settled," said he. "While we did not do the official paperwork yet, we are truly now citizens of the World of Hope."

Kelli grinned. "Welcome, then. I am certain there is quite a bit of excitement awaiting you here on our beloved little planet."

What Happens Next

Find out in

"a planet in the middle of nowhere", book 2

as the story continues in

"the World of Hope (part two)"!

Meet DRK-

Donald Richard Kuntz. If you feel like commenting on this book, or just on my magnificent cover, my email is: drkuntz57@yahoo.com
