Books by Author & Artist
Zachia Middlechild
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A Journey into Earth, Art, and Higher Consciousness
Earth, Art, and Higher Consciousness takes us on a journey into the mind of the artist as she "paints" her philosophy of life through her art. She explains what each painting means, and how she felt or how she achieved the effect she was looking for. Ms Middlechild also wrote poems to accompany her paintings. All eight paintings in the book are the same high quality and printed on the same paper as the Limited Edition prints she made of these oil paintings.
Excerpt from book: "My brush strokes were bold, flowing, and sure. I painted straight from the tube and mixed the colors directly on the canvas. My cup of coffee sat cold and untouched on the window sill. All was intuition now...."
Free domestic shipping!
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Free domestic shipping!
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by Zachia Middlechild
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Free domestic shipping!
Opening Quote Shahala started out her run as usual. Building up speed, she sprinted across the meadow not even noticing as it started to rise gently. She turned from her regular path that curved around the sharp incline and headed straight for the mountains and Camel Back Pass. It was late spring and the huckleberries hung like miniature Christmas balls on small bushes dotted liberally throughout the Pacific Northwest of Ecotopia. The hard-packed earth on the narrow path gave slightly under her powerful stride, the atmosphere shading her with chartreuse light and surrounding the path with spotted white from the beech trees dotted about the mountain meadow. She accelerated slightly as she turned onto the northern pathway and its steeper incline gave her well-toned muscles a good workout. Nearing the summit, Shahala raced along the top of a fifty-foot cliff overlooking a small stream gurgling through the green valley below. Accelerating even more, she headed towards the cliff edge and leaped off, falling out into the void. Then something miraculous occurred. She shimmered, and where skin and clothes had been, feathers appeared effortlessly, seamlessly. Two beautifully toned human arms melded into wings covered with iridescent viridian green feathers. Her chest expanded to exchange two human-sized lungs for an entire system of avian ones, much more efficiently adapted to the demands of flight. Her entire body shrunk to bird size and soared upwards to greet the rising sun at a hundred feet into the air. INTRODUCTION Before a nuclear catastrophe, the west coast of the United States had been demanding drastic cuts in greenhouse gas emissions, nuclear power, oil drilling, and just about everything else that industrialized nations needed in order to function. By 2040, the western states seceded from the U.S. and formed the nation of Ecotopia. Shortly thereafter, similar ecologically conscious nations formed worldwide. In the year 2045 a terrible nuclear disaster sent a cloud of radiation over the entire Northern Hemisphere causing an epidemic of infertility that was destroying the stability of the original United States. The story begins when the first children from outside are invited to summer camp in Ecotopia, unaware of the strange world they are about to enter for the first time. ******* Chapter 1 Breeder It was her 13th birthday and Christina Braggio was in a foul mood. She had just returned from the fertility clinic in Chicago and had been found to be fertile. In one month, she would be registered as a Breeder and her life would then be reduced to forced impregnation and child bearing until she was forty years old. True, she would live in luxury, and have anything and everything that she wanted --- but she would be guarded and “protected” until she had given birth to twenty healthy babies. She would be allowed to marry and allowed to bear and keep one or possibly two children from that marriage, but would never see the other nineteen children that she would carry for nine months each. These children would be adopted and raised by state approved couples and would have no contact with their birth parents. Christina’s status in U.S. society would be almost goddess-like and no one would dare to commit the slightest wrong to her on penalty of death, but Christina was still a child. She didn’t want to be subjected to any of the procedures that she had suffered at the fertility clinic. It was painful and embarrassing. Just the fertility test had been bad enough but imagine having similar procedures every year. Now her whole life would change forever. What was she going to do? As Christina rode the tubecam home from the clinic, she thought about the summer vacation her father had promised her and her little brother. He was taking them to Milan Italy, the fashion capitol of the world. Even though most fabrics were made in India and China, Milano still produced some of the most talented and creative clothing designers in the world, and fashion houses were still passed down in families from one generation to the next, each generation creating its unique version of the house style. Her father was going to take her to three of these fashion houses and let her choose a complete outfit from one. Then she was going to take a six-week art course with her brother, in Florence, and they were going to eat lots of Italian gelato every day. But now that she was found to be a breeder, their vacation would have to be cut short. The clinic was required to report her breeder status within three days and she would then be monitored constantly until she reported to the breeding facility in her region. That would be the end of her freedom for the next 20 - 30 years. It just wasn’t fair. When she arrived home, she went straight to her room and locked the door. She skipped her usual "Hi Dad" when she passed his office. Nobody knew she had gone to the clinic. Her appointment wasn’t until the next day, but she had been impatient and had gone early, hoping that they could fit her in. She was lucky; there had been a cancellation. Now she wished she had never gone at all. Christina's father, Ernest Braggio, sat in his comfortable office chair reading the letter he had received earlier. He had finally gotten the answer he had been waiting for. He’d been sending letters to the Ecotopian Assembly for over two years and he was getting tired of their apparent indifference to his simple requests. All he had asked for was a meeting, preferably on Ecotopian soil. He had a proposition for trade that he thought would benefit both sides and had requested a meeting at their convenience. What did they have to lose; they could always say no? That was why the letter that had arrived an hour ago was so unexpected. As he puzzled over this development, he heard the stomping of his daughter's footsteps going up the stairs and the absence of her customary greeting. He was basically a single parent and tried his best to be a good father to his two children. Now that they were entering their teens it was going to get more complicated. Maybe this letter was a blessing in disguise. Christina flung herself onto the synthomattress bed in the middle of her rather over-sized bedroom. She needed time to think. Last night, her girlfriend, Jessica, had called her to wish her happy birthday. Jessica had been found to be a Breeder six months earlier and knew Christina would be going for the test. Jessica was almost five months pregnant now and said it wasn’t that bad, once the nausea passed. She said the perks were really great, and that Johnny Door, (the current teen heart-throb) had actually come to her apartment with his band and performed for her, a surprise visit arranged by her parents. The food was great, and she could eat as much as she wanted; after all, she was eating for two and had already gained 50 pounds. Besides that, she had her own masseuse, a clothing designer, jewelry designer, hair dresser, chauffeur, a chef, and three maids. Her apartment was so big she still hadn’t found the kitchen. “They’ve spoiled me so much already, I don’t know if I could ever go back to being ordinary,” she had confessed. “But I miss being able to play buzz-ball and go to the Imaxigon,” she confided. “I wish they could have waited until I’m 21 and let me have some fun first.” Christina had known Jessica since 1st grade but didn't know what to say. Jessica was still the same girl but now she had chubby legs, a rounder face, and the little baby belly. She also knew that after Jessica became pregnant, she was the only friend who still came to visit her; and the security she had to go through was nothing if not intense. Soon her friends and family would be going through the same intense scrutiny to visit her. Christina sat on her bed thinking about her friend and tried to imagine being pregnant and having a baby of her own. She just couldn’t imagine it. Standing up, she appraised herself in the full-length mirror of her vanity. She was 5' 5", slender but not skinny, with light brown skin, curly dark brown hair with a number of purple streaks. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, but they were normally hazel and quite pretty. Maybe she would be a beauty when she grew up, but it was hard to tell with the dyed hair and purple and green synthosuit she wore. She grabbed her pillow and stuffed it into the front of her suit, looking at her reflection sideways to see how she would look pregnant. There were so few babies anymore. Jessica was the only other girl she knew who was fertile. They said that childbirth was no longer dangerous, but legend still told stories of mothers dying during childbirth in terrible agony. What did it feel like to be pregnant? Would she get really fat and ugly? How would she feel when the baby was born and they took it away from her? All these questions went through her mind as she sat alone in her room, and she wished she had a real mother to talk to, not the parade of stepmothers her father exchanged every two to three years. She pulled the covers over her head and sobbed into her pillow. I wish I could just disappear were the last thoughts she had until… she was jolted awake by a knocking sound. She hadn't even realized that she had fallen asleep. "Crissy!" George called as he knocked loudly on his sister's door. "Get lost.” she shouted. Her little brother could be such a brat. Didn’t he realize that girls needed privacy? Besides, she had told him a million times, if my door is closed, I don’t want company, especially pesky little brothers. Out loud she said, "Georgie, I don't want to talk to anyone right now, OK?" She couldn’t stand anyone seeing her cry, especially her little brother. They had gone through a lot together. Their dad was usually away somewhere on business and their bitch of a step-mother basically ignored them. “You will this time, sis. I’ve got a surprise for you that you’re never going to believe, a big surprise.” George Braggio loved his older sister even though she pretended not to like him very much, so he was always trying to impress her with anything he could dream up. He liked to jump out at her from around-the corner and laughed when she jumped, and sometimes he teased her about her weird hairdos and clothes, but she was all he had besides their dad. Their mom had died mysteriously years ago and Braggio had refused to talk about it. George and Christina were actually very close, but George was an eleven-year-old boy. It was his duty to pester his sister. Besides, this time he really did have something spectacular to show his big sister. He stood there confidently. Something in the tone of Georgie’s voice told her that this wasn’t just one of his tricks to bug her. She went to her plasticon sink and splashed cold water on her face. “OK, I’ll give you two minutes," she said, "and then you have to leave.” She clicked open her door and her little brother slid in, looking very pleased with himself. His big brown eyes always made her smile but not today. He stood there for an entire minute with his little chest puffed out, holding something behind his back. “You have 50 seconds left, Georgie, 40...30...20...10...5...” He pulled an envelope from behind his back and handed it to her. It was a green envelope made of something that had fibrous strands easily visible in it, kind of like squashed together plant stems. But he hadn't really noticed the unusual paper. “You won’t believe what it says.” he stated with conviction. Christina did notice the strange handmade paper. She opened the envelope and withdrew a note card made of similar pale green paper, only with tiny pink flowers mashed into it at irregular intervals. This is what it said: Christina and George Braggio, Daughter and Son of Ernest Braggio, are Hereby Invited to the First Bi-Cultural Student Summer Camp at Meadowdale, Ecotopia May 8, 2065 rsvp Could this be another of her brother‘s pranks? But where did he get the strange paper? Where did he get any kind of paper; nobody even used paper anymore. “Very funny, Georgie. Everybody knows that Ecotopia is a closed country; nobody from the outside ever gets in. This isn’t even funny.” "Honest, I'm not making it up, Crissy. This is real." She studied the invitation in more detail. It certainly looked real. Maybe this was the chance she needed. Maybe she could stay in Ecotopia until she was 21, or longer. But what was Ecotopia like? It had been closed since before she was born. There were rumors that people didn’t have cars or synthosuits or any of the necessities of life, and that they lived like animals and didn’t bathe. Obviously, they still used paper. Maybe they didn't even have internet technology. If that was true she didn’t want to go there. She never went anywhere without her iPhone. Maybe she should just resign herself to life as a breeder. At least that way she would have all the comforts of a normal human being. But what if the rumors were wrong? “Tell me the truth, Georgie. Is this letter real?” Cristina looked at her brother, then turned to see the large, dark imposing figure appearing at the bedroom door, leaning in slightly. He was over six feet tall with thinning curly black hair graying slightly at the temples. Dark eyebrows emphasized hazel eyes that could be stern or kind depending on the occasion. His beer belly was much smaller since he had started going to the health club he had installed in his corporate offices, but he was still a good 25 pounds overweight. “Come in, Daddy. Look what Georgie gave me. Can you please tell him to stop playing his stupid jokes?” “Actually sweetheart, I gave that letter to your brother and it’s no joke. I received the message through special carriers this afternoon. They have invited 120 kids to various different parts of Ecotopia for summer camps.” Braggio looked at his daughter and remembered how she had been just a few years before... long dark hair and skinny, always smiling, and not too concerned about her hair or clothes. She was a whole new girl now, trying out her wings. Part girl, part woman, Cristina was trying out all the latest syntho-styles and her present choice was the too-tight synthosuit in gaudy colors with rocker hair to match, kind of a throw-back to the late 20th Century. “But Daddy, if only 120 kids are going, why would Ecotopia invite us?” He tried to smile as he continued. “The invitation to attend the summer camp was part of a longer letter in response to a request of mine to open trade negotiations with Ecotopia, so I imagine that was the reason you were both invited. They want to start with joint camps for children as a goodwill gesture before they consider letting any adults into their country." "If the visits go well, they will consider trading grapes, wool, wine, apples, oranges, milk, and mercury-free fish in exchange for steel, the newer computers and other electronics produced by the United States, and computer technicians.” He sat down next to his daughter on the bed. “I’m as surprised as you must be about the invitation to the camp. Of course, you’ll have to be cleared to go after your fertility test tomorrow, but I’m sure that even if you’re fertile they could delay your … What’s the matter, Crissy?” Christina ran to her father and was sobbing into his sleeve and blubbering something that he could barely understand. “I’m f-f-fertile, Daddy. I t-t-took my test after school t-t-today. I’m a b-b-Breeder.” Braggio tried to hide the shock he felt that his daughter’s future would now be decided for her. She was his baby girl and always would be. He couldn’t even imagine her giving birth at the age of thirteen. He put his arms around his daughter’s slender shoulders and patted her head. “Don’t worry, sweetheart." he said, but he wasn‘t as confident as he sounded. "We’ll figure something out.” When Braggio returned to his room, he sat down to think. He should have expected this, and he wasn’t surprised that the test had proven his daughter to be fertile. She was healthy and with her background, well she was, after all, her mother’s daughter. But she was still so young, way too young to be having babies. She would be well cared for and live in luxury, but he already gave her everything she needed or wanted. The state would make her a baby incubator at only thirteen years old. He wasn’t prepared for this. As these thoughts ran through his head, he poured himself a scotch on the rocks and took a long drink, letting the smooth liquor slide down his throat until he felt the warm glow spread through his chest. He knew he wasn't the best father in the world. He spent way too much time running his business and he knew his kids needed him to be more involved as a parent. They hadn't had a mother in their lives since they were very young, so he had to be both father and mother. He figured he was a better then average father but not much of a mother. Around 7:00 the cook dialed up dinner for the kids, but Braggio didn't feel like eating. After long contemplation throughout the evening and halfway till morning, he came up with a plan. He would ignore the results of the fertility test. After all, they couldn't be sure if his daughter had told him yet. If they caught them, he would plead ignorance. Besides, there was nothing they would ever do to hurt a Breeder. He was an important man…with connections. By the time his daughter's breeder status and the invitations from Ecotopia were reported to the government, it would be too late to stop them from going. For now, he would just be taking his kids to the mountains for a weekend retreat. He had a private hoverjet and didn’t have to report his exact flight plan so he wouldn’t be breaking any laws. He would report the “cultural exchange” trip after he returned and face any consequences then. For now, he would sleep what was left of the night and deal with the final plans in the morning. ******* Chapter 2 Ecotopia Shahala started out her run as usual. Building up speed, she sprinted across the meadow not even noticing as it started to rise gently. She turned from her regular path that curved around the sharp incline and headed straight for the mountains and Camel-Back Pass. It was late spring and the huckleberries hung like miniature Christmas balls in small bushes dotted liberally throughout the Pacific Northwest of Ecotopia. The hard packed earth on the narrow path gave slightly under her powerful stride, shading her with chartreuse light and surrounding the path with spotted white from the beech trees dotted about the mountain meadow. She accelerated slightly as she turned onto the mountain pathway and its steeper incline gave her well-toned muscles a good workout. Her long dark hair was carelessly pinned up with two silver hairpins, with cascades of oval turquoise beads hanging from each one. A golden shock of hair slipped out of its coil, trailing like a dove over a dark sea of mahogany tresses, now slipping out everywhere. She could never get her hair to stay up, even when she wore braids. It was too fine and too slippery. She reached up to grab the hairpins before they fell out, stuffed them into her pocket, and turned onto the high path to really test her endurance. She was going to need it if she was to succeed in the bi-cultural summer training camp she was about to lead for the first time. Nearing the summit, Shahala raced along the top of a fifty foot cliff overlooking a small stream gurgling through the green valley below. Accelerating even more, she ran towards the cliff edge and leaped off, falling out into the void. Then something miraculous occurred. She shimmered, and where skin and clothes had been, feathers appeared effortlessly, seamlessly. Two beautifully toned human arms melded into wings covered with iridescent viridian green feathers. Her chest expanded to exchange two human sized lungs for four avian ones, much more efficiently adapted to the demands of flight. Her entire body shrunk to bird size and soared upwards to greet the rising sun at a hundred feet into the air. Tiny black beads for eyes acutely adapted to both long and near sightedness enabled her to see the smallest details in the verdant forest below. The sun was just rising above the Cascade Mountains and the early morning air was crisp and fresh. Her human emotions reveled in the beauty of the new day. The easterly breeze lifted her tiny avian body as she dived and soared in the cool gentleness of a Pacific spring morning. Perhaps Shahala should have called him earlier but now she felt the link in her mind and called the greeting, “Chihalii, my friend. May the day bless you.” "Eeechilii, Eechilii, my friend. May the day bless you as well". A tiny swallow dove down like a fighter jet and swerved deftly to fly at her side. He always called her by a special name he had for her, more befitting of a swallow. He didn't actually speak. What sounded like birdsong to others was combined with the telepathic "sending" that his Familiar could hear as words. "You are sweaty, Eechiliii,” he sent. "Are you trying out for a marathon?" "No, Chihalii, I just felt like exercising and I need the extra workout to warm up for our big adventure. You didn’t forget, did you?" "I cannot come yet, my friend," he sent. "Choruki still needs me to tend the chicks, and then we must teach them to fly. Can you not stay a while longer and share in the fun?" "No, my friend," she sent. "The children will be here tomorrow, and there is so much I must do before they arrive. I’ve asked for help from the Redwood Clan in northern California. I’m meeting their leader near Centralia, Washington. Can you come that far with me?" "Perhaps, but only for a moment." He paused as if to smile. "I want to check him out." Chihalii darted off in an up and down dance, swallow style. Shahala flew after him, soaring and diving effortlessly after her Leer. For time immemorial, “Earth Magic” had existed in the world. As technology replaced the old ways, those few who practiced this magic disappeared, but a secret few remained living in isolated environments in the vast wilderness of forests, mountains, and remote islands. The San Juan Islands of Puget Sound were especially blessed. With the strong environmental movement that grew in the west, these “earth healers” and “Shamen” revealed themselves to those who sought complete oneness with nature, sharing the gifts of the old magic that lay dormant in the earth. Thus, Earth Magic was reborn in the new nation of Ecotopia. Earth Magic manifested in a variety of ways: rain shielding, air warming, minor levitation, pain management, minor healing, and various other useful skills. Only a few had the ability to bond with an animal called a Leer, and this life-long bond manifested between the ages of five and sixteen but usually before the age of ten10. The ability of a girl, Animena, or boy, Animan, to transform into the essence of one’s Leer didn’t usually happen until the age of puberty which was a good time to distract the child from that difficult age. Leer came in many shapes and sizes but were always birds or mammals; bobcats, lynx, cougars, otters, beavers, wolves, ravens, eagles, owls, and swallows. The smallest ever was Susie Ryan who bonded with a hummingbird, and the largest (in North America) was a Kodiak bear. In other parts of the world there were cheetahs, lions, jaguars, monkeys, and parrots, toucans, and flamingos, etc., and there was said to be one instance of an elephant, and two giraffes who bonded with twins. Some of the coastal peoples could transform into seals, dolphins, and killer whales. Nobody had ever had a chimpanzee or ape as a Leer. It was thought that the genetic connection was too close. Leer lived as long as their humans, regardless of species, and were stronger than their kin. They also possessed a deep intelligence at times beyond that of their humans, now commonly known as Familiars. It was part of the deep magic with which they had been blessed. Before the formation of Ecotopia, Earth Magic was a closely guarded secret. Gradually, the higher environmental and spiritual consciousness of all Ecotopians revealed allowed many gifts previously hidden to be revealed. Soaring and diving with Chihalii, Shahala remembered how she had first found her Leer. She was seven years old, and she lived near Issaquah, Washington, a beautiful little town nestled the between the foothills of the Cascade Mountains and the Issaquah valley. She had stayed home with a fever and was feeling extremely restless and lonely. Her mom and dad were working in the vegetable garden and she had been advised to stay in bed. When her mom came to check on her, her window was wide open and Shahala was gone. Little Shahala had heard an incessant chirping at her window and had crawled out onto the roof below her dormer. There she sat with a little green-blue swallow perched on her finger, sitting and talking with her new friend who said his name was Chihalii. He was also very lonely because his mother had taught him how to fly and now refused to feed him. Shahala was consoling him and he was consoling her - the bond of Leer and familiar was born. Every day from that point on, girl and bird were nearly inseparable. That was twenty years ago. "Eeechilii, where are you? Eeechilii!" Chihalii sang. Shahala came out of her daydream and thought her reply, "I am here, Chihalii. I was thinking about the day we met, my friend. I am just behind the large fir to your left." Chihalii sent back, "I remember well, Eeechilii. I was so lonely then. It was as if my soul was missing… and then I felt you. You had a burning hunger in your soul and it drew me to you. When I got close to you, my soul was filled and I knew I was a part of you forever." They perched on a branch near the top of the Douglas fir and rested for a moment. "Yes, Chihalii, I was burning with a fever and I didn’t know why. I think my mom suspected, though. She later told me the same kind of fever had come over her sister when she was my age and that same day her Leer came to her, but it was a cat, a lynx." Chihalii jumped. "Horrible creatures! Always slinking up on poor unsuspecting birds. They usually go after robins, though, and especially rabbits and mice. But my uncle was eaten by a lynx, poor thing." Shahala answered, "but I thought you said your uncle flew into a window?" "Yes, he did," Chihalii responded, "but after that he was so dizzy, he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going. He practically flew right into the lynx’s mouth. Oh, my poor, poor Auntie Chandii. She cried for hours...." Shahala laughed. They spent several hours talking and catching insects in the air, heading in the general direction of Centralia. Birds spend enormous amounts of energy in flight and must eat several times their weight every day. Since Shahala hadn’t packed a lunch, she took advantage of the meals in the air but was careful to think about food only as a swallow and not with the human part of her mind. Chihalii chatted about his many affairs with the neighboring females, and Shahala teased him about his mate’s similar affairs. "It doesn’t really matter to us, you see; it’s all about the chicks. As long as we have healthy chicks and take good care of them, who cares who the biological fathers are? The dad in the nest is the real dad. Aren't humans the same?" Shahala laughed. "That's very true, Chihalii, but as for the cheating, well...there are some humans who think the same way as swallows, but many are faithful to one partner. I prefer a monogamous relationship myself." Chihalii could not understand his familiar's peculiar attitude. “But you have no relationships at all, my dear friend. How can you live without the pleasures of love?” Shahala did not answer. She just hadn’t met anyone she was interested in. She wasn't worried about it. Love would come when it came. After several more hours of flight, they arrived at a particularly large hill, and on the other side they found a meadow dotted with orange ribbons. "This must be it," Chihalii sang. "I’ll just sit here and watch." Shahala glided down to the meadow transforming at about five feet from the ground. As her wings spread out into arms, the feathers re-formed into her traveling clothes. The four lungs melted into two and the body stretched and grew into the full 5’10’ that was Shahala of Meadowdale. The transformation was so smooth it seemed as if an artist had pulled concentrated paint from a small bird-like speck into a fully finished masterpiece in one stroke of the brush, every curve and color flowing into its rightful place. As she landed on two moccasined feet, she moved forward towards the ribbon-lined path. A large cougar entered the meadow and saw the healthy deeply tanned woman entering the other side, but it was the man who saw what appeared to be an angel coming down the path towards him. She had the graceful walk of an athlete, her dark hair flowing almost to her waist, with a streak of gold mixed in. He transformed as he moved towards her, noting her leather tunic, much like his own, laced up over a slender but strong torso and matching leggings with side lacings from the knees down. On her feet she wore moccasins, richly beaded with turquoise, red, white and black seed beads, with tassels hanging down on all sides. Around her neck she wore several necklaces of what looked to be turquoise, coral, and pearl, with a small leather pouch at the center. He had to pause; she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he was going to be working with her. He could hardly believe his good fortune. Realizing that he was not moving, he continued towards her, more slowly than before. Shahala saw the huge tawny-colored mountain lion emerging from the ribboned path, yellow-green eyes studying her intently. As he drew nearer, he sprang into the air as if to attack. Instead, a transformation took place. Where tawny head and round ears had been a moment before, she could see blond hair, about shoulder length, but the same vivid cat eyes. The sun at his back made his hair a glowing halo around his face, contrasting sharply with the deep tan of his arms and a muscular chest that showed slightly below his open tunic. He paused briefly, as if in thought when he was about thirty feet away, seemed about to say something, but perhaps decided against it. He then continued walking towards her more slowly than before, smiling a hello. She walked purposely toward him, extending her hand. “Greetings, I am Shahala of Meadowdale, and you must be Darrel.” “Ah, yes, of course…greetings Shahala. It’s so nice to meet you.” I hope she can’t hear my heart beating; I heard she was beautiful, but she is much more than that. She’s absolutely magnificent. But all he said was, “I’m here to help you, Shahala, for as long as you need me.” He paused, smiling warmly. Why had he said that? While Darrel had been approaching, Shahala and Chihalii had been sending back and forth. “He looks very healthy, doesn’t he?” “Oh yes, I can see that he is more than just handsome… for a human." "What do you sense, Chihalii?” “I detect only nervousness, and an elevated heartbeat, Eeechilii. I can’t read anything else.” Shahala thought, Look at that body; and he’s even taller than I am. This could be interesting. "Indeed, it could, my friend...you should think about what I said…but I must go. Goodbye for now." Shahala then sent her thanks and farewell and Chihalii flew off to rejoin his mate. All Leer had the gift of telepathy. They could talk to each other and to their humans, but the humans could only talk to their own Leer. Nobody knew exactly how long there had been Leer because their existence had been hidden for thousands of years. Long before Christianity, wizards and witches, dragons and druids had been a part of human culture. Then various religious leaders started the rumor that all magic was evil and that those who practiced magic worshipped Satan. After that, all magic, even the benign magic of healing, was met with many hangings, burnings and other forms of extermination. Magic diminished worldwide and Leer died of loneliness. Their human counterparts turned to drugs and then suicide, never knowing where the emptiness and despair in their souls came from or how to cure it. A small underground organization survived and communicated via avian messengers mostly in remote or rural locations. No one in the US knew of the existence of transformation and telepathy or any of the Earth Magic that had reemerged in Ecotopia. Heading back in the direction from which she had come, Shahala lead Darrel up the path and into the forest talking in human form or sending in animal form, depending on which shape they chose to take. He is a beautiful tawny cougar, thought Shahala, strong and fleet of foot but an even more beautiful man. She hadn’t been in a relationship for years, the last one ending badly, and she didn’t really need a man to complete her. Nevertheless, all kinds of thoughts ran through her head. She pushed them to the back of her mind. They traveled until nearly dusk, making good time in their animal forms. Shahala then transformed into human form and asked Darrel to do the same. “Camp Meadowdale is just over that ridge” she said. “I’ll show you around and then we can plan what we need to do first.” “Ah Yeah...Sounds great.” he responded. Why am I so inarticulate around this woman? They walked the remaining distance on human feet and Shahala pointed out the camp layout. “The whole camp is arranged in a large circle. The staff’s cabins are over here, southeast of the showers. The children’s cabins are on the other side of the showers, farther north. The camp leader’s cabin is also over there, I guess that’s where I’ll be staying.” She indicated the cabin directly north of the showers. “Cook’s cabin is on the other side of the kids, just north of the kitchen. He and his wife and kids always move up here in the spring, just after school gets out. He’ll have dinner ready in about an hour. The common area, we call it the Commons, is in the middle. That's where we have meetings, eat our meals, and do some of our other activities.” “Are any of the staff cabins already taken?” Darrel asked. “Joseph, our horseman, always takes cabin 4. Other than that, you can choose any cabin you like." She hoped he would choose the cabin next to hers, but she pretended indifference. Her heart was beating so fast she thought he could hear it. He decided he would take the cabin closest to Shahala’s, on the other side of the showers. “This should do fine.” he said, throwing his backpack onto the porch. Since they were standing in front of it at that moment, he didn’t think she noticed that he’d selected the cabin closest to her own. Did she smile when she saw his choice? He couldn't be sure... When a person transforms, anything they are wearing either becomes part of their animal body or is attached in some way. Darrel’s rather heavy backpack had been a much smaller lighter backpack on his feline body. He was glad to be rid of it. Shahala took him to meet the cook after he had unpacked some of his things, and they both received warm greetings and hugs. Cook’s wife, Molly, was just as warm and inviting as Cook, and the three children were cute, polite, and extremely active. Cook and Molly both had round bellies, but the children were all as skinny as a rail, which wasn’t surprising, never sitting still long enough to accumulate fat. The oldest had braces on his legs but it didn’t seem to slow him down. They were famished after their long journey, so they were doubly grateful for the hot stew set before them. The meat was venison, with scallions, celery, carrots, and red potatoes, and another tuber that tasted like sweet potato. The bread was homemade, right out of the oven. Darrel poured everyone seconds of apple cider from the pitcher on the table. “This is absolutely delicious, Cook. Thank you so much.” Darrel said between large bites of bread. “I never expected a feast today.” “Save some room for apple pie.” said Molly. “It’s my specialty.” Darrel sighed. He could always make room for pie. The children, who had been served first, had eaten in the den. They now came back to collect their pie, then left the grown-ups once more to finish their dinner and the last four pieces of hot cinnamon rich apple pie in relative peace. While they were enjoying pie and ice-cream, the four adults discussed what needed to be done the next day. The belt and the on and off switch on the washing machine needed to be replaced, and a few heads in the showers needed replacing as well. Cook had gotten the parts but hadn’t had time to make the repairs. He had oiled up and restarted both the hydrogen and hydroelectric generators and had brought enough groceries to fill the pantries and root cellars to bursting. All the linen needed to be re-washed, having sat nine months from last year’s camp, so Darrel decided to repair the washing machine that night and get the first few loads of sheets and towels started. The next day they would clean the cabins, the common area, and the showers. Then they had blackberry vines to cut back, and weeds and grass to trim. All the linen had to be washed, dried and folded, and the beds needed to be made. There was sewing of deerskin leather tunics and moccasins that Shahala had begun several months earlier and wanted to finish before her new guests arrived, so most of the other work would be Darrel’s responsibility. Cook would work with Darrel, and Molly would give Shahala help with her tasks. With the beginning of camp only a few days ahead, Shahala was grateful for everyone’s help. ******* Chapter 3 Trip to Ecotopia Ernest Braggio paced across his daughter’s bedroom floor, shouting softly. “They’ll never let you take all these clothes, Christina. Why do you need all this stuff? And what is this small suitcase for? Is that your computer? They said to bring only what you need for two days. I know you’re going for longer than that, but I think they’ll be providing for some of your needs.” “No Daddy, that’s my make-up case. My T-com is in my pocket. Why is it such a big deal if I bring a little computer into Ecotopia, anyway?” Christina flipped back her dark hair, streaked with violet metallic spikes at regular intervals. She’d had a habit since she was very young of putting her lower lip out and then biting it when she was nervous. She did that now. “You don't need four suitcases, Christina. They said to bring only one suitcase each; only outdoor clothing, athletic shoes, cotton socks, that sort of thing. What do you have in all these suitcases?” “Well, I have my syntho-suits in this one, my syntho-loungers in this one, my denim wear in that one, including cotton socks, and my ultra-soft syntho-bed in this one, and all my shoes are in this bag,” she said as she hefted up a long silver bag with Johnny Door stickers all over it. “I don’t see how I can go anywhere without my basic necessities.” Mr. Braggio sat down on the nearest suitcase. “You have five minutes to pick one suitcase to take with you.” I suggest you find a few pairs of running shoes and put them in your denim suitcase. They said you kids are going to spend a lot of time outdoors, learning about nature. The hoverjet is on its way now. If you don’t pick anything, I’ll pick it for you.” “But Daddy, I can’t wear those kinds of clothes every day. I’m special, you told me that, and everybody knows it. And now that I’m a breeder, I’m more special than even you.” Christina was crying now. It always worked on her dad. He could bully all of his business associates, secretaries, heads of state, anybody and everybody; but when it came to his little 996-pound daughter, he was as soft and helpless as he was strong and decisive in every other aspect of his life. This time, however, it was her brother who came to the rescue. “MY suitcase isn’t even half full, Christina.” George came into the room dressed in a Frog Glog T-shirt and blue jeans, with Frog Glog tennis shoes to match. Her eleven-year-old brother, two and a half years younger than Christina, threw his suitcase on the bed and snapped it open. “See? There’s lots of room for all your stupid girlie things.” He loved his big sister more than anyone, but he didn’t want her to know it. She could sometimes be very petty and mean especially when she was hanging out with her friends. He had to maintain a semblance of toughness at all times. It was a fact of life that classical American males were practically obsolete. He didn’t want to loose the connection to the one person who could save him from obscurity. Besides, she could be really cool when she wasn’t around her stupid friends. “Thanks Georgie.” she sang, meaning it. “You saved me.” She threw her shoes and make-up bag into his suitcase, opened her denim bag with a click of her universal control, and stuffed about a third of her designer jeans, T-shirts and cotton socks into his open bag. Then she grabbed her syntho-suit bag and put it next to his suitcase. “OK, I’m ready.” The sound of the hoverjet's propellers was louder than the boom-box George carried over his shoulder when they arrived at the rooftop copter port of their building, Braggio Enterprises International. Christina started to cry again, “I don’t want to go, Daddy. Please don’t make me go. Nobody goes to Ecotopia. What if it’s a trap? What if I never see you again?” Mr. Braggio got in after her. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m coming with you.” The scenery over Illinois and Iowa was a patchwork of cornfields with cities along the way. George sat quietly looking out the window while his father and sister argued about everything and nothing in particular. He wondered what Ecotopia would be like and if the girls there were as mean as they were in his school. He had always been on the quiet side especially around girls and he was hoping it would be different there. He was smart enough, and he was about average at sports, but he was short for his age and awkward.. He'd been too excited to sleep much the night before. The landscape was flat and uneventful as he watched the patchwork quilt of government farms below, and he drifted off to sleep. When they crossed into South Dakota, the terrain became varied with hills, rivers, and lakes dotting the landscape. It was a naturally beautiful state. Later, as they approached Rapid City, the foothills of the Rocky Mountains emerged above the horizon and you could see snow dotting the higher valleys on the northern slopes. Soon they were crossing over the Northeast corner of Wyoming where a few cattle ranches still remained but most of the land was wheat fields. They had all drifted off to sleep by then and didn't see any of Wyoming. The pilot continued their flight until they were well into Montana and the Rockies covered the view for hundreds of miles in every direction, the higher peaks blanketed in snow. Turbulence woke the small party and they marveled at the breathtaking views of snowcapped mountains dotted with turquoise lakes here and there. But the huge state seemed to go on forever. Just as Georgie was dreaming of a big chocolate sundae, the pilot announced that seatbelts were to be fastened tightly. “We’re moving into Idaho and through the force field of Ecotopia in ten minutes,” he said, “and I don’t know if there is going to be turbulence.” His voice sounded strained, “Nobody’s crossed this barrier in twenty years; I don’t really know what to expect.” He decreased the altitude in order to see the markers the Ecotopians had described. As they approached, the pilot carefully aligned the hoverjet along a row of apple trees marked with rainbow colored ribbons. As they passed through the grove of trees, their com-radio sounded a message. “YOU HAVE SUCCESSFULLY PASSED THROUGH THE FORCE FIELD. WELCOME TO ECOTOPIA. PLEASE FOLLOW YOUR ASSIGNED ROUTE AND ENJOY THE VIEW. WHEN YOU GET TO THE WESTERN SLOPE OF THE CASCADE MOUNTAINS IN WASHINGTON, LOOK FOR THE MARKINGS OF CAMP MEADOWDALE. LAND IN THE CENTER OF THE FIELD.” The landscape changed completely as they entered Idaho and Ecotopia. Thousands of evergreen trees covered the mountains, and meadows and lakes of emerald green and blue abounded. A river shaped like a snake meandered across the valley. As they followed the indicated route, the landscape began to change into desert. They had passed out of the mighty Rockies and into eastern Washington. This was also beautiful in its own way, especially when the wheat fields and horse ranches appeared. They traveled for about an hour when they saw the pink and white clouds of apple and cherry blossoms in hundreds of small orchards below. "We are approaching another mountain chain, the Cascades," and they watched as the mountains rose majestically all around them. They could see a large V-shaped opening in the distance, and that was where they were headed. George felt rather than heard his sister holding her breath. She always held her breath when she was nervous. He hit the heels of his shoes against the back of his foot rest. “Look at those huge mountains. They’re covered with snow, just like the pictures in magazines.” Then they passed over a field of apple trees and Christina forgot her nervousness. “Look at those beautiful trees.” Christina exclaimed, unable to maintain an aloof façade. They’re completely covered with blossoms.” “Those are apple trees, kids,” replied Braggio. “Ecotopia is the biggest producer of apples in the world. That’s one of the reasons my company wants to open trade negotiations. Imagine being able to pick an apple off a tree and eat it, just like that.” As they flew towards the snow-capped mountains, they observed wheat fields, more apple and cherry orchards, and quite a few horse ranches. Christina didn’t say anything, but her eyes were glued to the sight of those near-mythical animals she had only seen in movies. They came in every color imaginable; brown and black, some with white socks, reddish brown with black tail and mane, gold with white tail and mane, spotted, dappled, and pure white. Most of the terrain was dry, however, dotted with pine trees, small round bushes and boulders. As they neared the pass between the mountains, everything changed. There were dozens of tiny brilliant blue lakes, and everything turned from soft browns to deep greens. “Look at all those trees.” shouted George. “It looks like they planted miles and miles of Christmas trees all over the mountains. Wow. Look at those little lakes. There’s a bunch of them, and there are flying birds down there. Wow, there’s a big lake. I can see some animals running over there. See Christina? It's right there, near the end of that crescent shaped lake.” Mr. Braggio and Christina and her father just looked and nodded. As their destination neared, it seemed they were both lost in other thoughts, scanning the breathtaking landscape like automatons. Their heads were turning, eyes wide open. They were looking but not really seeing, overwhelmed by the beauty that was spread below them. Then the meadow came into view. There were rainbow ribbons tied in a circle around a central area, but no buildings and no people. The pilot circled around twice and engaged the hover propellers, then brought the plane gently down in the center of the wide circle. Christina held her breath and bit her lower lip. “Well, this is certainly strange; nobody is here.” Christina looked out the window at the deserted field. “I thought they had a force field to hide all their secrets; don’t they have security or something?” Mr. Braggio reached over and opened the plane door. “My legs are so cramped, I’m getting out to stretch, and I’m going to look around while I’m at it. Hey Adam, why don’t you cut the engine, and keep an eye on my kids for a minute, OK?” The pilot nodded his assent, “You bet, Mr. Braggio.” “Don’t worry, Dad.” Christina was drinking one of the sodas they had brought with them. “I’m not getting out until I see civilization. This place looks like a horse pasture. (She thought it was useless if there were no horses in it.) We must be in the wrong place.” Just then, she spotted movement at the edge of the meadow. A figure was emerging from the trees and coming towards them. As it came nearer, the small group just stared. It was a woman dressed in primitive Indian-like clothing with beads and tassels and other strange ornaments that Christina had once seen in museums. “Look at those feathers.” exclaimed George. “They look Indian, and she's really tall." “The woman is beautiful, said Christina almost to herself, and look at her muscles.” She looks like a professional athlete.” Mr. Braggio stood silently as the woman approached. She was certainly healthy all right, and stunning. She now stood in front of him and extended her hand, “I am Shahala, leader of Meadowdale Camp. Welcome to Ecotopia,” she said. “We’ve been waiting for the children for several days. Can you ask them to get out of the plane now? We’ll take them to the camp in a few minutes, but we need to talk first.” As she said this, several plasto bags fell out of the plane followed by a large suitcase. Shahala unstrapped two canvas backpacks from the bundle she carried on her back. As Christina and George climbed out of the small hoverjet, she addressed them. "I'm Shahala of Meadowdale, but we’ll have time to get to know each other later." she said. "For now, I want you to pack your clothes and shoes into these backpacks. You can bring only what you can carry. You must hurry. The force field is only open for 30 minutes. Your father must leave in ten minutes to be safe.” She dismissed them with a nod. “Come this way, Mr. Braggio.” When they had walked a few paces, far enough away to prevent being overheard by the two children, she continued. “It’s nice to see you again, Ernest. You understand why I invited your children.” “Of course, Shahala, I understand. It couldn’t have come at a better time.” Mr. Braggio scratched his head. “I just found out that my daughter is fertile. In the United States that means she is a Breeder. If she remains in the US, she will be fertilized immediately, and she’s small for her age. I know she doesn’t want her freedom to end at thirteen, Shahala, but she has lead a sheltered life. I don’t think she likes getting her shoes dirty.” Shahala smiled. “Of course not, Ernest, but you know she will, and much more than that. You know we believe in daily community physical work.” “I know,” is all that he replied. He looked at her appraisingly. "My God, Shahala, you look wonderful." "Thank you, Earnest. It's the healthy lifestyle of course." "Of course," he answered, "I don't suppose you know anything about...." "No .... Ernest, we must hurry." They walked quickly back to the hoverjet where Christina and Georgie hugged their dad tightly. “Are you sure we’ll be safe here, Dad?” Where are the buildings? Where are all the people?” Their father got in the plane. “You must trust Shahala, and gain her trust. If you do that, everything will be alright.” And with that statement, the hoverjet started up its engines and all possibility of conversation was drowned out by the noise. By the time the kids had gotten the backpacks adjusted properly, four children of different ages had emerged from the edge of the woods and were signaling for them to hurry. As they neared the woods, two more children had already joined them, and were cutting branches of young alder and stripping off the leaves. They studied the two strange children coming towards them. “Sarah, what is that girl wearing?” A tall dark-haired boy asked as they all gaped at the violet and silver synthosuit Christina was wearing. “And what has she got stuck in her hair?” He was looking at the purple spikes (the latest in US fashion) Christina had painstakingly fashioned with Syntho-gel. Sarah hit him on the back of the head, “It isn’t polite to stare, Jake. Don’t you read? Besides, you have dreadlocks; who are you to complain? Outsiders wear synthosuits made of artificial material that makes them sweat. Then they have to wear deodorant that stops up their sweat glands.” She tried not to stare herself. “It does look scary, doesn’t it?” “Yeah,” he said, trying to close his wide open mouth. When Shahala and the two newcomers got there, they were each handed a nice clean alder staff and instructed to use it to move blackberry vines out of their way, and for balance and support if they needed it. They started down a narrow path behind the other kids, led by Shahala and ending with the tall dark-haired boy, Jake. The pace was brisk and the ground uneven, allowing for little talk. Shahala pointed out various obstacles as they appeared and instructed the two city kids to use their staffs for balance until their feet adjusted to the uneven terrain. When they had hiked for about a mile, Shahala called for a rest stop. “The next part of the path will cross a river. We’ll wash there and you will be given Ecotopian clothing. On the other side of the river you will each meet your personal Ecotopian guide. Let’s go.” “Can’t we rest a bit longer?” Georgie was breathing loudly and rubbing the sweat off of his forehead, pulling a blackberry vine away from his jeans. “We’ll go a little bit slower now so you can catch your breath, but it’s better not to cool down too much. We need to wash and dry before the sun gets too low. When we get to the camp, you’ll have time to rest.” Georgie wondered what she meant by wash and dry, but he didn't ask. Christina was thinking about all the clothes she could have been buying in Milano. Why had she agreed to this camp? Was being a breeder that bad? Her feet hurt, she was sweating, she had scrapes and scratches on her arms and legs, and mosquitoes had started to bite her. As they arrived at the river, she looked around and was shocked when Shahala waded into the river and started to wash herself in the cold water. “Come on, kids. The only way to food and rest is on the other side of this river. I know it’sits cold, but the sun is warm, and there are warm, comfortable clothes on the other side.” Christina was about to turn around and go back when she realized that she and her brother were all alone here, and she didn’t like it one bit. She put her foot in the water and it was freezing. “You’ve got to be kidding. I’ll catch pneumonia.” George surprised them all by running into the water. “Last one in is a rotten egg." He cried, and because he was the smallest and skinniest of them all, Christina followed. The river was only thigh deep, although there were deeper pools where most of the kids swam. Christina wasn’t going to go any deeper than she had to when her foot caught on a rock, and down she went. Shahala helped her back up, making sure she wasn’t hurt. Christina was close to tears by the time she arrived on the other shore. The backpacks were carried across the river by two of the older children who had collected them when the new kids had dropped them by the riverbank. On the far side of the river were two stacks of clothing for the newcomers, both in natural earth colors. Hanging on a branch over the clothes were two fluffy bath towels. Georgie was already drying himself when Christina pulled herself out of the frigid water. Teeth chattering, she grabbed the remaining towel and started drying herself, shivering and swearing under her breath. “When daddy hears about this, they’re going to be sorry,” she promised no one in particular. She didn’t want to admit that the cold dip in the river had left her feeling invigorated, or that the air smelled really good, and that the sun felt wonderful on her back. She stepped into a circle of trees, surrounded with a make-shift curtain, and tried to remove her synthosuit, but it was difficult peeling the wet material from her body. Finally, she succeeded and rubbed her goose bumps dry with the soft towel. The new clothes were soft and fresh smelling, and they fit her well although somewhat loosely. They consisted of yellow leggings and T-shirt with a rusty brown leather tunic and matching moccasins. There was a leather strap she used to tie her wet hair off of her back. When she emerged, she had almost forgotten how mad she was. Waiting outside was a girl about her own age in similar garb. “Greetings, Christina. My name is Sarah,” the auburn-haired girl said. “I’ll be your guide for the next few days until you get used to the camp. I hope we can become friends.” Christina looked into the round smiling face, covered with hundreds of freckles and bright blue eyes, of a girl about her age. She wasn’t about to make friends with anybody yet, but she stifled a smile and managed a reluctant, “Hi.” “Come on, Christina, follow me. The camp is just over this little hill. I’ll show you around.” The little hill turned out to be more like four big hills but at last they arrived at the camp. Christina was tired of walking, tired of the branches hitting her arms as she walked, tired of being in a strange place, and tired of all the talking; but Sarah didn’t seem to notice. She just walked and talked the entire way, mostly about her twin sister, Susan. Christina wondered if Susan talked as much as her twin. George didn’t meet his guide. Instead he was met by Joseph, the camp horseman, who introduced him to his roommate, Timmy, a ten-year-old boy about the same size as George. He led both boys to their cabin and told them that their guide, Jake, would show them around later. Like his sister, George was tired and feeling lost in this unfamiliar environment. He wondered what Ecotopia was all about and why he and his sister were here. ******* Chapter 4 Braggio Returns Home Braggio stood in the doorway to his daughter’s and son’s bedrooms feeling very blessed that he had children. Nobody had really listened to the warnings of doctors over the last few decades. Fertility rates in the USA had declined steadily for over fifty years, but nobody cared except the childless couples, with all the immigrants flooding the country. The population had grown, especially with the large Catholic immigration, but now even the Latinos were infertile, and many of those who hadn’t fled to Ecotopia before the force field had gone up had returned to Mexico and other countries in Central and South America in hopes of regained fertilitvirility. Other than South America, most of those hopes went unrewarded. The nuclear fallout didn't reach the southern hemisphere. Braggio walked over to the bar in his study and poured himself a scotch. He jiggled the ice around in the glass, noticing the sparkle of the sunlight on the amber brew. Christina’s hair had been that color last year but was now dark brown, and Georgie’s was almost black, but Christina changed her hair color ten times a year. He already missed them. They were the best part of his life. What was he going to do all by himself? He walked to his desk to check his messages. “Computer on,” he spoke. “Messages!” The CEO of VidCom wants to meet with you on Friday. Doug Sneed confirms lunch tomorrow, Hilton, downtown. Department of Fertility sets date for Christina Braggio to report …. Braggio couldn’t hear anymore. There was a humming in his ears but it didn’t make any sense. Finally, he whispered, “Computer off,” and the noise faded. He collapsed into the couch. His little girl... His little girl. He wasn’t going to let them take her. She wasn’t going to be a baby-making machine as privileged as that certainly was. Not at thirteen years old; not his Christina. But he didn't know what he was going to tell the DOF, commonly known as the Breeder Mafia. Then he heard footsteps on the stairway below his study. He wiped his face with his handkerchief, adjusting his collar. There was only one person who could enter uninvited… his wife. “Hello, Marla. What brings you here?” He watched the petite figure march up the stairs like a soldier. “Surely it couldn’t be my good looks,” he said. She smiled warmly, “Only your charm, my dear,” she lied. She had filed for divorce a month before, only because he was too busy to do so. “You looked flushed, my dear. What have you been up to?” He shrugged, “It has been a long day as usual, work and more work.” Marla appraised him suspiciously. He was hiding something; she could always tell when he was lying. Instead of telling her to mind her own business, he actually answered her questions. “Is that so?” she replied, “Just work?” She looked at his casual pants and shirt, and noticed some dirt on the carpet. "Just where have you been that would have tracked in dirt?” “It’s none of your business, Marla.” He glanced briefly towards the bedrooms, then hid his face behind the notebook on his desk. “You have no right to ask any questions,” but she was already walking towards the bedrooms. This woman didn’t miss anything. Knowing he couldn’t stop her from looking, he thought up a story. “The kids aren’t here, so don’t bother to pretend you care.” She entered Christina’s bedroom where one large suitcase still sat on the unmade bed. “Did Crissy forget her suitcase, dear?” Braggio entered the room behind her. Did you forget your broom, witch? But he said, “As a matter of fact, she did. I was just about to drive over to Debbie’s house to take it to her.” He pushed around her and picked up the suitcase, then stood close to her, his dark imposing six-foot frame forcing her out the bedroom door. She looked up into his hazel eyes and reached up her hand to caress his lips, “You were never a good lover, darling, did I ever tell you that?” Actually, he was an excellent and considerate lover and she was going to miss that... but not that much. He held his temper, barely. “You know your way out, my dear?” He mimicked her sweet voice. “By the way, the next time you try to walk in here uninvited, the doorman will have you arrested,” and try to trip on your way down, he thought. She said something under her breath as she slammed the door behind her. We’ll see about that, she thought as she rode the elevator down to the lobby. She was smiling like the cat that swallowed the mouse as she got into the awaiting car. The next day Braggio got a call from the Department of Fertility. "We will be expecting your daughter to report to 1000 Government Avenue in three days for orientation. Then she will have one week to study the rules of breeder behavior before she checks in on the 7th day. Do you understand?" "That might be a problem," Braggio replied. "She's presently out of the country." There was a long pause on the other end of the line. "Mr. Braggio, do you have an explanation for this violation?" He didn't but he had to think of something fast, anything but the truth. "There isn't anything I can do until she gets back. This trip has been planned for months," he lied. After another long pausepause, . Tthe agent looked at the background info he had on Ernest Braggio. He seemed to be a successful law-abiding businessman with nothing but parking violations on his record, but many citizens thought they were special when their child was chosen. "You will be fined $100 a day for every day she is missing after the 7th day, Mr. Braggio." "Yes sir," he answered. And feel free to drop dead any time. He disconnected. Well, I'd better get back to work. This might get expensive. ******* Chapter 5 Greedo Headquarters Plan to Abduct “Dammit Joe, we have to figure out a way to get past that force field and into Ecotopia.” Mr. Greedo’s fat belly bounced as he paced back and forth shouting profanities into the speaker phone on his four-thousand-dollar teakwood desk. “I’m telling you, Joe, without the fertility vaccine, we haven’t got a chance.” He looked out at the New Delta seascape, some 120 miles inward from what had once been New Orleans, and wondered what he had done wrong. He scratched what was left of the graying black hair on his rather oversized head. New Orleans Avenue stretched out below, winding its way lazily along the new coastline of Louisiana all the way across the southern coastline of Mississippi, a commemorative icon of that great city, now lost to the sea forever. Sea gulls were the only creatures that mirrored his pacing, circling in the air as he did in his office. A squashed oval rut was permanently etched into the plush burgundy carpet stretching across the forty foot expanse of his executive corner office on the 235th floor. Noticing this, he buzzed his receptionist in the next room. “Get those carpet guys on the phone, and this time, tell them I want royal blue.” Remembering he was still on the phone, Greedo shouted, “Joe, are you still there? Listen to me. I’m coming to Chicago tomorrow and I want a meeting with all the big guys in the firm, one o’clock sharp.” He exhaled slowly, turned, and paced back toward the east wall, “And you better get the Defense guy there, too. I think we have a situation on our hands.” As he hung up the phone, he slumped into his easy chair and pulled out a fat Cuban cigar from the silver box in his top drawer, bit off the end and spit it onto the soon to be defunct carpet. Lighting it up with the matching Spanish silver lighter shaped like a small revolver, he inhaled deeply as he swore softly to himself. I have to get through that damn shielding devise, I just have to. The whole future of U.S. civilization depends on it. MY future depends on it. And time is running out. He didn’t realize how prolific those words were. The USA (minus the west coast and parts of the north) was having a fertility crisis; nearly 90% of the population was infertile. Other parts of the globe were having similar crises, including fertility problems in some of the livestock. Only Ecotopia and other eco-countries had devised a vaccine against infertility but they refused to admit it, claiming that pollution was the real problem. U.S. spy planes had photos of hundreds of kids in Ecotopia, all ages. The United States hadn’t had a natural live birth in two years. There had been so many miscarriages, many with strange birth defects, that the government declared all babies under federal jurisdiction. All girls and boys were tested for fertility at age thirteen, and if fertile, were legally “housed” in lavishly and beautifully furnished condominiums (attached to hospitals) with all the perks of a millionaire but none of the freedom. All pregnant girls had live-in doctors and nurses, and were sent to the special luxury condos as soon as they conceived; they stayed there until they gave birth. So what if they couldn’t keep any of the first eighteen babies? They were treated like royalty. But even these drastic measures weren’t enough. Population continued to fall and the United States of America would soon lose its place as leader of the world if they couldn’t overcome this crisis. Greedo thought about the utter fiasco with the recent Ecotopian force field job. He’d been commissioned to find and steal the force field generator but the operation had been a complete failure. Not only could they not find it; they couldn’t gather even one piece of intelligence about its existence. He’d even sent in his cousin as a spy but had to eliminate him afterwards. He was fond of young Cal, and he spent a brief moment remembering how they had played together as children, but he had his reputation to consider. He had been forced to demonstrate the consequences of Cal’s ineptitude. He shot him in this very office in front of his secretary and bodyguards. His body had been dumped in the shark infested bay, the blood inciting a feeding frenzy. He wiped a single tear from his cheek. As Greedo perused these thoughts, his secretary timidly entered the room. “Well?” he bellowed, “What is it?” The slim, middle-aged woman peeked out from under her mousy brown hair that was perpetually falling over her bespeckled eyes. “There’s someone to see you, sir.” He barely glanced at her, “Well, who is it?” “She wouldn’t say, sir, but she was very insistent. She’s in the lobby, sir.” Greedo’s voice rose to an even louder pitch, “What else did she say?” “Uh, well,” she took a deep breath as if to sustain herself, “She said you would want to see her, sir. She was very emphatic about that!” “Well then, by all means, send the lady in.” A beautiful petite and shapely woman in a dark red synthosuit with diamonds dangling from her ears and neck entered the office as if she owned it. Her hair was bleached blondebony, with red strands interwoven into it in a rather attractive manner. He smelled her expensive perfume as she came forward to give him her hand. She wore dark glasses that hid her eyes, and leather gloves that matched the bejeweled bag she carried. Without saying a word, she handed Greedo an envelope and smiled. He looked down at her gloved hand and noticed several large bulges where rings, most likely diamonds, were hidden. He took the envelope and walked slowly around to sit at his desk, then opened the envelope and removed a small card, reading its message. “You’re right, Ms.… what did you say your name was? I am indeed very glad you came to see me. Please, sit down, Ms.…” As she accepted the seat opposite Greedo, she removed her glasses and looked disapprovingly at the fat cigar he held in sausage-like fingers. He was a short disgusting man with fat bulging out of his neck and middle that made him resemble a tiny whale, but his power made him an important ally.the “Just call me Mrs. X,” she replied. Mr. Greedo punched the com link for his secretary. “Miss Fibergas, cancel all my appointments for the rest of the afternoon.” |
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