Considering how important it was to the total function of Central Control, and indeed to the total function of Shalev and the entire Alliance of Four Cities, the Monitoring Room was really quite unremarkable. About thirty feet long and twenty feet wide, it was painted in pale blue and orange, as was much of the rest of Central Control. As one entered from the main hallway, the wall to the right was bare except for a door marked “Authorized Personnel Only.” Behind that door stood a dozen large CPUs—the central processing units for the entire computer system, the heart of Shalev and the Alliance of Four Cities.
But it was the wall to the left that made the Monitoring Room what it was. Along the entire length of the wall was a built-in cabinet system containing four computer consoles with keyboards. These monitoring consoles were overshadowed by the two large tracking screens filling the whole wall above them. If the CPUs held the heart of the system, these screens were the eyes. On them, the computers could pinpoint any one of the seventy thousand citizens of Shalev in a few seconds, a flashing light showing the person’s location on a grid map of the city.
Travis Oakes stopped outside the door to the Monitoring Room and rechecked his orange and blue dress uniform, tugging the jacket downward. Four weeks of farm work had tightened his waist muscles, he noted, not without some satisfaction. His fingers briefly straightened the Guardian emblem on his lapel; then, satisfied, he took a deep breath, opened the door, and slipped inside.
After the simple rooms and furnishings of the village, the gleaming glass and steel computer consoles and digital readout panels of the Monitoring Room stood in sharp contrast. He stopped and looked around, letting the room’s familiarity soak back into him.
His eyes fell on the figure bent over one of the consoles, and he felt a sudden quickening of his pulse. Nicole Lambert had not yet noticed him, so absorbed was she in studying the screen in front of her. He stepped back, content for a moment to study her in profile. The one-piece jumpsuit of the Guardians couldn’t fully hide the graceful cut of her figure. Had Travis been the sculptor, he might have changed her facial features slightly, lowered the cheekbones a touch, perhaps placed her large, green eyes a fraction of an inch closer together. Her mouth, which curved softly under an exquisite nose, he would have left exactly as it was now. It pulled the rest together perfectly, making her altogether more than satisfactory.
She leaned forward slightly and frowned. Her brows pulled together, giving her a girlish look, as though she were scolding an errant pet. Then she flashed a look of triumph and began typing rapidly on the keyboard. When she finished, she tossed her head in satisfaction, and her soft brown hair bounced back into place, settling gently on her shoulders.
Travis could name half a dozen women who might surpass Nicole in outward beauty, but not one who combined outward loveliness with the inner vibrancy, the spirited intelligence that this woman radiated. Every conversation proved to be a refreshing challenge. It was this vitality that most intrigued him, perhaps because it was so rare in the women of Shalev.
Travis frowned. Research and Development had been promising the Major a solution to that problem for years, but as yet the promises were unfulfilled, and a wooden sameness permeated all too many of the women he had been interested in. He shook his head, suddenly aware how glad he was to be home. Then he stepped forward. “Nicole,” he said softly.
Her head turned, then her eyes widened. “Travis!” In an instant she was on her feet and into his arms.
He spun her around once, a little surprised by the warmth of her welcome. As he sat her down, she pulled back, blushing deeply, obviously a little surprised. “I—we didn’t expect you until tonight. Communications said you radioed in last night from Serenity.”
“I did, but a few of the men took a vote—” he grinned and squeezed her hand—”with a little encouragement from me, and decided to drive all night. The rest of the men are bringing in the villagers and should be here by tonight. Except for one, and we brought him with us. But anyway, we’re back.”
Her eyes dropped slightly, the thick tangle of lashes turning them a beguiling turquoise. “I’m glad.”
“Does that mean I was missed?”
She looked up and smiled, almost shyly. “You know you were.”
Travis’s brown eyes teased her as he held up her left hand. “I see my warning worked.”
“What warning?”
“I told the men who stayed behind that if I came home and found a ring on your finger, they would get permanent duty on the Outer Perimeter.”
She laughed lightly and pulled a face at him. “So that’s why no one would eat lunch with me.”
“You’d better believe it. But to make up for it, how about dinner tonight?”
“Oh, I’d love to, but seriously, aren’t you exhausted?” She studied his face, deeply tanned since she had last seen him, and saw the weariness in his eyes. Suddenly she realized how much she had missed him, and she was tempted to throw her arms around him again. But she merely reached down and took his hand. “It must have been terrible.”
Travis took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “It wasn’t very pretty.”
“What happened?”
“I have to give a full report right now to the Major. He’ll meet us in Detention, in the observation room. He’d like you there.”
Nicole’s head jerked up. “Me?”
He nodded, then pointed to her console. “File off what you’re doing and let’s go.”
“Why does he want me there?”
“They’re going to start implanting the people we brought back, and—”
“I don’t want to be there, Travis,” she said, stepping back. “I always hate that. You know that.”
“Hey, listen! Let me finish. The Major doesn’t want you to be there for the implantations, but he has three or four men he wants to bring into the Guardians. One especially—the one we brought back with us—is going to be a real challenge. His father was killed trying to stop us.”
“How awful! But if he’s that much of a problem, why use him?”
“Because if we can bring him over, he would be perfect as a commander of the Perimeter Forces. He’s as much at home in the forest as in the village. He’s resourceful, innovative, and adaptable—a natural leader. Within one week after my arrival in the village, I knew he was the one the Major has been looking for.” He touched her arm. “The Major wants you in on the turn-around from the very beginning. So turn off your machine and let’s go.”
Nicole’s face softened. “Okay. I didn’t mean to stand here questioning you.” She stepped to the bank of instruments, punched a couple of keys on the keyboard, then shut the machine off. “Okay,” she said, turning back to face him.
On an impulse, he stepped forward, took her in his arms, and kissed her. For an instant, her body stiffened in surprise, but then she responded in a soft, warm acceptance of his embrace. When he pulled back, her eyes were wide, searching his. “Mr. Oakes,” she said softly, “is that what you learned from the girls in that village?”
“I missed you, Nicole. More than I expected.”
She cocked her head to one side. “I think you very neatly sidestepped my question, but I find your answer quite acceptable. Now, do we walk down to Detention like this, or do we act more like the two proper, senior members of the staff we’re supposed to be?”
Travis smiled, stepped back, and bowed. “After you, Miss Lambert.”
The Major had not yet arrived, and as Nicole and Travis entered the small, narrow observation room, Nicole moved to the window and studied the figure lying on the cot in the cell with his face toward her. He didn’t have Travis’s rugged handsomeness, but his features were pleasant, with a square chin and strong mouth. His hair was rough cut and dark brown, but lightened by hours in the sun. The sun had also left his face and neck a deep tan. His hands were farmer’s hands and his clothes plainly homemade. “Is that the one?”
Travis stepped up next to her. “Yes. Eric Lloyd.”
“He’s young.”
“Twenty-four. Same as you.”
“But I expected an older man. Is he married?”
“Hey!” Travis growled. “What kind of question is that? I know he’s good looking, but—”
She dug her elbow into his side. “Come on. You said his father was killed. Does he have any other family? That could make a difference in how quickly he responds.”
“His mother is here. He has a sister who’s twenty-one and two younger sisters, one nine and the other six. They’re all fine.”
“Will they be implanted?”
“Of course.”
Nicole frowned, thinking of the six-year-old. “Families of the Guardians are exempt from implantation. Why won’t that be true for his?”
Travis shrugged. “That’s up to the Major, but his policy in cases like this is to go with a Stage Two for now, pull them back to Stage One when the candidate begins to prove himself, then remove them completely once we are sure he is completely turned. That way he’ll have some leverage.”
He was watching her closely for her reaction, but Nicole continued to stare through the one-way glass. “Has he been sedated the whole time?”
“Yes. We used the stun gun on him and then put him under sedation before he came fully out of it. But we gave him the last injection late last night, so it should be wearing off any time now.”
“So he’ll have no idea where he is?”
“None. And he doesn’t know about his father either. That happened after he was captured.”
She shook her head. “Then he is going to have a lot of reason for hating us. That is going to make it very difficult. I—”
At that moment the door pushed open, and the Major strode in. “Travis!” He quickly crossed the room and gripped the younger man’s hand. “Welcome back.”
“Thank you, sir. It’s good to be back.”
“Hello, Nicole. How are you?”
“Fine, sir, thank you.”
He stepped to the window and peered through. “This is our boy?”
“Yes,” Travis nodded, “that’s him. Eric Lloyd.”
“Good. Let’s go into the conference room and sit down.” He took Nicole’s elbow. “Did Travis tell you I’d like you to monitor this one, Nicole?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Come in with us. I want you to hear Travis’s report.” He guided her out of the room and down the hall to a conference room. He helped her with her chair, motioned Travis toward another, and sat down himself, crossing his legs carefully so as to keep straight the knife-sharp creases in his navy blue, pin-striped business suit. Nicole smiled inwardly. He was, as usual, absolutely immaculate. Not a strand of his short, gray hair was out of place, and his shoes gleamed like polished obsidian. Though in his early fifties, he was as tall and trim as a sixteen-year-old. His pleasant face appeared more solemn because of a perfectly groomed mustache and horn-rimmed glasses that made his pale blue eyes seem larger than they were. He looked more like a banker or an accountant than the most important and powerful man in the Alliance of Four Cities.
“What went wrong?” In his usual blunt way, the Major dismissed further formalities. “How come thirteen Guardians are dead?”
Travis took a deep breath. “Well, let me start at the beginning. As I indicated in my reports, I had no trouble being accepted in the village. After I was let off by the men, I spent three days circling around to come in from the south. I had food enough for only one day, so by the time I stumbled into the valley, I looked pretty authentic.”
“They had no idea where you were from?”
“No. I told them I had been with a small group of families living in northern Utah who had been caught by a group of roaming bandits—the villagers called them the Marauders. I said I was the only survivor.”
“Good, good.”
“I hid the radio transmitter away from the village.” Travis smiled. “It wasn’t always easy to slip away. That’s why I missed a couple of reports.”
“I understand.”
“Anyway, the village accepted me very quickly. In fact,” he added modestly, “normally, Eric would have been left in charge of the village defenses. His father is the accepted leader for the village, but surprisingly, Eric is viewed as the second in command.” He paused. “Well, actually, that isn’t really too surprising once you come to know Eric. He is very much like his father—bright, resourceful, courageous, and personable. I told Nicole that he’s a natural leader, and the villagers see that too.”
He took a breath. “But anyway, Eric’s father wanted Eric to join Doc Cameron, so he took the men down to the river and left me in charge of the village defenses. That, of course, made the capture of the village much easier.”
The Major nodded, obviously pleased. “For you to gain their confidence to that degree in less than a month’s time, that is remarkable.” He leaned back, putting his hands together to form a steeple. “So what went wrong? We’ve never had this much trouble taking a group before.”
“Two things. First, Captain Byers was delayed by a flash flood. He lost almost half a day and decided to travel at night to get back on schedule.”
“No!” the Major said angrily. “I warned them not to do that.”
“I know, but he figured he was still nearly thirty miles from the village, and it would be all right. But unfortunately, Eric’s father and Dr. Cameron were out hunting. They camped on a high ridge, and—” He shrugged.
“Cameron is the brain surgeon?”
“Yes. Eric’s father hightailed it back to the village to warn us and sent Eric with some dynamite to join—”
“They had explosives?” Nicole broke in.
“Yes, Eric’s dad was a chemist and an explosives expert. They make their own. They also have reloading equipment and make their own gunpowder as well.” He turned back to the Major. “Anyway, we would still have been all right. Lights meant civilization. The village was wary but very excited, eager to see who we were.”
“It was Cameron who made the first contact?”
“Yes. Eric was hidden in the trees, covering him with a rifle. At first Captain Byers made out as if they were looking for some unknown village. Then he inadvertently let it slip that he knew how far away it was. Doc was instantly suspicious and started to back off. Bruce panicked and tried to stop him. That’s when Eric opened fire, and Bruce was hit.”
“How is Captain Byers?” the Major asked.
“Still in a lot of pain. We took him straight to surgery this morning. The surgeon thinks he may never fully recover the use of his right arm.”
“It’s not that I have no sympathy,” the Major said curtly, “but he’s reaping the results of his own shortsighted stupidity. Well, either way, he is now relieved of his command.”
Nicole looked up quickly. The Major’s impatience with shoddy performance was legendary, but Bruce Byers was one of the original Guardians and second in command to the Major.
“Go on,” the Major commanded, prodding Travis out of his own evident shock at Byers’s dismissal.
“Well, that essentially set the course of events. Eric slipped away and ambushed the convoy a few minutes later with a satchel of dynamite. We lost three men there, with nine others seriously injured, and, of course, one of the trucks. Eric then joined the others at the bridge and told them what was happening. That ended all hopes of a peaceful meeting. They were waiting in ambush for the column, and we lost six more in the first volley. Lieutenant Carter, who had taken over from Byers, returned fire, and the battle was on. We lost four more men in the next two hours, with several others wounded. We also lost another truck when they blew the bridge out from under it.”
The Major slammed his fist against the table. “Thirteen dead, nearly two dozen wounded. And all because of sloppy execution of orders. This is intolerable!”
“How many villagers were killed?” Nicole broke in, watching the weariness etch deeper in Travis’s face.
“Six. Some of the best men in the village.”
“But how?” Nicole asked. “Strict orders were issued to put the weapons on stun capacity only.”
“Both Byers and Carter swear they never rescinded that order. But evidently, some of the men took it upon themselves to open up to full power.” Travis’s eyes were dark. “And who can blame them when they were under fire like that? Remember, they lost six, but we lost thirteen!”
“And for nothing!” the Major snapped. “That’s the tragedy.”
Travis took a deep breath and then looked up. “As you know, I was in radio contact with the group the chopper let off about twenty miles south of the valley. That was two days before Byers was spotted, and I had led them into position in the foothills overlooking the village. Once the others left, we took the village easily. That was when Eric returned and told me what was happening at the river. I took immediate action, but it was too late to do much except end it quickly.”
“You did well, Travis,” the Major said, leaning forward in his chair. “I should have had you take over the column from the first. Byers is obviously getting too old for a field command.” He shrugged off the thought, his irritation slowly fading. “So tell me about the village,” he added gently, sensing Travis’s discouragement. “They seem to have been quite well off compared to others we’ve found.”
“Yes. Eric’s father, Karl Lloyd, was in the Army, in the—”
“Colonel Karl Lloyd?”
“Yes, sir, did you know him?”
“Knew of him. He had a brilliant reputation among all the services. Perhaps the best chemist we had. And he was killed?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Ah,” the Major sighed. “That is a tragedy.”
“He was a fine man, sir. Anyway, he had concluded that the nations had lost their senses. He resigned his commission and gathered a small group of others around him. They started preparing for what was coming. They purchased a large ranch in the upper part of what was then Star Valley, Wyoming. They took classes in wilderness survival, collected books on basic skills, even began looking for equipment that did not depend on petroleum, and so on. Unfortunately, it hit sooner than they expected.”
“Sooner than any of us expected,” the Major added sadly. “But then who could have predicted the total insanity we saw?”
“Well, he called it pretty close, except for the timing. He predicted that once it began, everyone would unleash everything they had in the ensuing chaos. He also guessed correctly that nuclear strikes would not be the only danger, that chemical and biological warheads would be as common as nuclear ones. And so he chose his spot well. Star Valley had no industrial or military sites close by. It was relatively isolated, hidden between two substantial mountain ranges, and the prevailing air currents would carry much of the fallout away from them. Even then the group roughed it out through the winter in the mountains. Lloyd’s wife died of pneumonia, and they lost several others. I guess it was pretty bad. Eric was six at the time. When spring finally came, they decided the valley was finally safe, so they moved down.”
“Then the valley didn’t escape being hit?” Nicole broke in.
“Yes and no. There were no direct strikes, but some biological agents and radioactive fallout drifted in from the west. Not a great amount, but sufficient to decimate the valley’s population. When the Lloyd group finally moved in, they picked up about thirty or forty survivors who were still there.”
“And so they set up their own community?” the Major asked.
“Yes. The men Karl Lloyd had persuaded to join him were all top-notch in every way. Dr. Cameron was a leading neurosurgeon. Monroe Wilson was an electrical engineer. Ralph Maddox owned a major machine and tool business, and so on. But it was more than the skills. Lloyd wouldn’t take anyone who wasn’t outstanding in his personal character as well. Most were deeply religious and active in church. They had to be strong family men, men of integrity—the best kinds of people. Karl Lloyd often said, as he told me about their survival, that if God hadn’t taken a direct hand in their lives, they would never have made it. That commitment to God influenced the whole village. Every Sunday, all work stopped. Everyone went to church, then spent the rest of the day with their families.”
Nicole studied Travis’s face, touched by the obvious feelings he felt for the people he had helped to capture. “You said Eric has two younger sisters?” she asked.
“Yes, half-sisters actually. Karl Lloyd married one of the women from the valley after several years. She had lost all of her family in the sickness. She’s a very fine woman too.”
“And technologically?”
“Oh, they built a small generating plant on the river to provide their basic electrical needs. Once the surrounding areas were decontaminated, they made scavenging trips to nearby towns and villages, such as Idaho Falls and Logan. They brought back commodities that they could not manufacture themselves—light bulbs, medical supplies, tools, and equipment. They also gleaned the best books from several libraries to help in the education of their children. They even raided a video shop. For years they had a video tape recorder, with about two dozen movies on tape, but gradually it wore out and the tapes gave out. They still talk about the old movies.”
“So other than a minimal level of technology,” the Major said, “they were essentially a nineteenth-century farming community.”
“That’s right. All in all, they lived very well off the land, both through farming and hunting.”
The Major stood up. “Great!” he said enthusiastically. “Some excellent farmers are exactly what we need. And won’t it be a thrill for them to have tractors and electric pumps for irrigation!”
“You do plan to send most of them to Serenity, don’t you?” Travis asked.
“All of them. I had originally planned to use three or four men from the village, but I’ve changed my mind,” he said. “We need the men too badly for farming. If we hadn’t lost those six—”
“We also lost thirteen Guardians,” Travis reminded him.
“Yes, I know. But we have the other villages we are working on right now. If all goes well, we’ll obtain sufficient replacements for the Guardians from them. Right now we desperately need help in getting Serenity fully operational, or we’re going to lose the wheat harvest. So all of the villagers will be implanted. Except for the Lloyd boy, of course. He’s exactly what we have been looking for.” He turned to Nicole and smiled. “Are you ready for a real challenge?”
“Yes, sir, I think so.”
“Good. Travis won’t be much good to us on this one.” He turned to him. “The boy will blame you for his father. You know him best, but you’ll have to work from the background.”
“Yes,” Travis agreed. “I still feel terrible about that.”
“I know. But you aren’t to blame. You did a great job for us.” He clapped Travis on the shoulders. “I want you to take a couple of days off before you take over your new command.”
Travis’s head jerked up. “Command, sir?”
The Major waved his hand impatiently, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. “Yes, of course. Byers’s command. Who did you think I would give it to?”
Before Travis could respond, he turned to Nicole. “I want you to work on Lloyd directly with me. He’s too important to me to botch up. We’ll begin Friday.”