The New World: A Step Backward (15 page)

Monday
~
September 23, 2075
~
10:00 am

More than a month had passed since Mercivil attended the battle discussion with Thoruk and the others. 
Where did the time go?  It's been so hectic; I can't believe the fighter jets are about to arrive.

"Whoa."  She tugged Midnight's reins, slowing the wagon as it approached the park's southern edge that cool morning. Accompanied by 10 chattering children and a 17-year-old babysitter, Mercivil was prepared to provide a warm welcome to their Texas guests.

Intellulka pulled alongside in his buckboard.  Situated near the northern end of the weathered airstrip, repaired a week earlier, they waited.  The kids piled out and ran across the grassy grounds, laughing and chasing the season's last surviving insects.

When the youngsters were a safe distance away, Mercivil turned to her old teacher.  "With all the preparations lately, we haven't had much time to talk.  It's good to have a chance to chat.  How have you been doing?"

"Not bad.  With Thoruk having so much to do, he hasn't bugged me in awhile.  That can be good, but it also gets boring when he's not around to antagonize me."

"Well, I'll stop by once in awhile, and we'll play cards whenever I get a break."

"That sounds great, but don't let it keep you from doing stuff you need to do."

"Don't worry, it won't.  I'll stop by tomorrow morning, and we'll play cribbage."

"Fantastic!  I get tired of beating Thoruk all the time.  I need a real challenge."

Mercivil looked around to check on the kids, then faced Intellulka.  "Hey, on another subject, I'm glad we haven't found any more killer spiders!"

"You and me both!  That long spear made for a deadly creature."

A shudder shot through Mercivil.  "How did they grow that gruesome lance?"

The elderly scientist's ever-cloudy eyes shifted to and fro.  "My best guess is that Zolokt spliced the spider's DNA structure with a portion of a marlin's genes to create its sword-like snout."

After discussing muclones for another 40 minutes, Mercivil cocked her head.  "What is that high-pitched sound — sort of a shrill, whistling noise?"

Like a spry teenager, Intellulka practically leapt off the wagon.  "Turbine engines — it's them, come on!"

While she and her spirited, old friend hurried toward the landing area, the children sprinted, screaming all the way.  The pilots must have seen them; both aircrafts tipped their wings as they approached.

With eyes bulging, the youngsters stopped dead in their tracks, not sure what to make of the huge, roaring mechanical beasts descending from the sky.  Terrified, the smaller ones raced back and clung to their babysitter.  After a few seconds of soothing, the kids tentatively cheered and jumped up and down.

Mercivil continued forward with her mouth wide open. 
Blazes, those things are gigantic!  How can they float in the air?
  Eager to meet the visitors after watching the planes touch down with a screech and puff of smoke from the wheels, she hurried toward the closest jet when the engines shut down.  Intellulka strode toward the other.

After the glass shield retracted, Mercivil approached and greeted the aviator as soon as his foot touched ground.  "Hello, I'm Mercivil."

When the pilot popped a hard shell off his head, lengthy, auburn hair tumbled over his shoulders. 
He's a WOMAN!
  As a female, who was challenged in her role of protector and warrior, she still wasn't anticipating a woman flier.  Most of the history books she read about aviators included pictures of men pilots.  The surprise must have been etched on her face.

Holding an unusual maroon and white headgear that exhibited odd lettering on each side, the aviator spoke with an unusual twang.  "I see that expression a lot.  For some reason nobody's expecting a female with long hair to hop out of a fighter jet."  She put her arm around Mercivil.  "I don't know why they're surprised.  We women tackle the toughest jobs all the time."  Still trying to decipher the drawn-out, southern inflections, Mercivil chuckled.

The charming guest stepped back and extended her hand to Mercivil.  "Hi, I'm Amelia Drake."

Mercivil recognized the surname from her readings about Texas.  She stared at Amelia.  "You're not...?"

"Yes, sort of.  I'm married to the grandson of John Drake, the author.  My husband, Howard Drake, is the other pilot."

Mercivil beamed.  "I really enjoyed the story of how your state prepared itself ahead of WAP in the book,
How Texas
..."

"
Survived the World Annihilation Period.
"  She and the beautiful visitor finished the sentence together and laughed.  Hitting it off immediately, Mercivil became enthralled with her newfound companion.

"Please call me Mercy; all my friends do."  As the others ambled from the second plane, Mercivil hollered.  "Intellulka, you won't believe who I've got here!"

When the parties converged, she grabbed her new friend's hand.  "This is Amelia Drake."

Amelia pointed to the other pilot lugging headgear similar to Amelia's, but orange and white with different, equally strange lettering.  "Mercy, this handsome man is my husband, Howard Drake."

Mercivil stuck her hand out.  "Hello, I'm excited to meet you."

Howard replied in a thick, southern drawl.  "I'm thrilled to meet you too."  He looked at Amelia, then Mercivil.  "I see y'all hit it off already."

Chuckling, Mercivil peered at Amelia.  "Yes, we're best buddies."  Her companion laughed.

Mercivil teased Intellulka.  "Do you know who Howard is?"

The professor tilted his head, appearing puzzled.

"You know — John Drake?  The author?  You're standing next to his grandson!"

"Oooh."  His face flushed bright red.

Mercivil wrapped her arm around her favorite mentor's back and looked at Amelia.  "I'd like to introduce my dear friend, Intellulka."

Amelia's eyes sparkled.  "For real?  Intellulka?"  She walked up to him and gave him a tight hug, then leaned back, still clutching his shoulders.  "Your name is known state-wide.  When the Texas Freedom Defenders' delegation returned home after your conference in Old Iowa several years ago, they shared your story in a Texas publication.  I reread it before the trip."

She didn't take a breath as she continued.  "Ukkiville gained distinction, following that gathering with you and the three young adventurers.  The amazing portrayal of your village's struggles after WAP, and how the three families united as one, spread like wildfire across the state.

"Texans admire your bravery in staving off Skalag raids to protect your way of life.  Your story is legendary, and children all over Texas read it as a sign of hope that freedom can survive under any condition, when people are willing to fight for it."

Shocked, Mercivil peeked at Intellulka who raised his eyebrows and shrugged.  She whirled toward Amelia.  "We do love our professor here in Ukkiville but never imagined so many from far away also hold our teacher in such high esteem."  She spun around to him.  "Stunning, you're famous!  Maybe Thoruk will treat you with a bit more respect."

The old tutor snickered.  "I doubt it."  He looked at Amelia.  "During your stay I'd be happy to spend an afternoon to enlighten you about the specifics of the delegation meeting."

Amelia's voice lifted to a higher pitch.  "That's a wonderful idea!"

The whole discussion aroused a few of Mercivil's fondest memories. 
What a great trip — exploring all those territories — the best moments ever with Thoruk and Storm.  It would never have happened if not for Intellulka.
  She gazed into his eyes and smiled.

Howard turned to the professor.  "Thoruk, isn't he your leader?"

"Yes, he is, but it doesn't deter him from teasing me whenever he's in the vicinity."  The canny teacher chuckled.  "We mutually snipe at each other for pleasure.  Unfortunately, he usually wins."

He peered at the pilot.  "Thoruk is a marvelous, young man with a quick wit, and he's an excellent leader.  He'd defend anybody in trouble, at peril to his own life."

Howard's brow rose.  "I can't wait to meet him."

Mercivil looked at the children.  "What do you have to say?"

In high-pitched voices, they all yelled.  "Welcome to Ukkiville!"

Amelia responded with a huge smile.  "Thank you very much.  Y'all sure are gorgeous children.  I look forward to meeting each of you."  She squeezed Mercivil's palm.

A young, curly-haired boy tugged on Howard's pant leg.  "Sir, are you from the Ward family?"  Confused, the pilot turned to Mercivil, who glanced at the lad.  "No, names in Texas are different than ours, sweetie.  I'll explain it to you later."

Mercivil gently pulled on Amelia's sleeve.  "There will be plenty of time to talk.  Let's get your bags.  We'll take you to the cabin."  When her new friend opened the plane's storage compartment and started to grab a bag, Mercivil reached in and snatched it.  "Let me help."

"Thank you.  Why don't you carry these two, and I'll handle the rest."

After loading the luggage onto the wagons, Mercivil turned to face the southern edge of Wolverine Forest and waved both arms overhead.  Two horseback riders quickly emerged, galloping hard toward her and the rest of the party.  She looked at her guests.  "Sentries will be posted by the planes throughout your visit.  You need not worry."

Mercivil hopped aboard her buckboard, and once Amelia and half of the kids settled in, she guided Midnight toward the visitor's accommodations.  Behind her the snorts of Intellulka's horse, Angelina, broke through the constant murmur of children's whispers as the mare towed the others.

Mercivil snapped the reins. 
I can't ever remember having visitors from Texas.

During the ride, her heart raced with excitement as she showered questions on her companion, who patiently responded to each and every one.

After arriving at the cabin and helping the guests get settled, Mercivil grabbed Amelia's hand.  "You must be weary from the long trip.  We're going to let you rest awhile."

She glanced at Intellulka and tilted her head toward the wagons.  "I'll return in about four hours with a nice hot meal, and if you don't mind, I'll also bring my closest friends, Thoruk and Stormulka.  We'll eat and share many exciting tales.  I'd love to hear more of your adventures, especially how you two met."

Monday
~
September 23, 2075
~
4:30 pm

While straightening a beautifully-stitched quilt with an attractive assortment of blue, lavender, and lime colors, Amelia heard a light tap.  She walked to the door and swung it open.

Before her stood Mercivil and two young, muscular men, one holding a large, black kettle with steam rising around the lid. 
My, my, my, Mercy's friends are a couple of fine specimens!  How can she still be single?
  Being one who usually expressed every notion that entered her head, it was difficult to fight the urge to blurt her thoughts.

Her mouth watered from a whiff of the savory meal.  "Mmm, that smells great.  I can't wait, I'm famished."  She gently tugged Mercivil's arm.  "Come on in.  Introduce your friends."

"Amelia and Howard, these are my best buddies in the world, Thoruk and Stormulka.  We are the three young adventurers who were with Intellulka at the Texas delegation meeting several years ago."

Amelia's smile widened as she hugged the handsome men.  "Hi, I'm honored to meet y'all.  I'd love to hear about your journeys during our stay!  I'm Amelia Drake, and this is my husband, Howard."

The tall, slender gentleman vigorously shook Thoruk's hand.  "I've heard remarkable things about you and your village, and I'm thrilled to finally meet you.  I'd be honored to listen to your views regarding leadership sometime."

Turning, the brown-haired man gave Stormulka's hand one shake.  "Nice to meet you too."

"Mercy, let me help you."  Amelia liberated a basket from Mercivil's grasp and glanced at Thoruk.  "Go ahead and put the pot on the stove."

Thoruk and Stormulka shot a quick glimpse at each other.  Amelia overheard their whispers.  "Mercy?  Already?  That was fast.  Texans sure talk funny."

After helping set the table lit by two large candles, Thoruk spoke up.  "Let me say grace before we eat."  Amelia and the others bowed their heads.  "Dear Lord, please bless this food and our wonderful guests.  Please help their visit be a pleasant one which we all can share.  We ask You to bless our village and protect us from those who would do us harm.  Thank you, Lord."

Amelia responded in unison with the others, but with her twang.  "Amen."  Breaking a fleeting moment of silence, a small flame in the stone fireplace crackled and filled the air with a hint of burning oak.  "I love the way you fixed this cabin, Mercy.  The colors of the curtains and quilt are refreshing — it's very cozy."

"Thank you."  Mercivil took Amelia's plate and grabbed the serving spoon leaning against the side of the kettle.  "I hope you like venison stew; it's my mom's favorite recipe."

Amelia smiled.  "We love venison.  It's one of the more common meats served around Old North America."

"Good."  Mercivil returned the dish filled to the edges and reached for Howard's.  "Why don't you tell us how you two met.  I'm dying to hear your story."

Amelia peered at Howard who pointed at her.  "You better do the talking tonight.  You're a much livelier storyteller than I."

She grinned.  "Okay.  It all started at a Texas National Championship football game."

Mercivil scrunched her nose.  "Football?  What's that?"

"Oh shoot, I forgot; football's only played in a few areas these days.  The short version is that there are two teams doing a lot of running, shoving, and tackling to get an elliptical-shaped ball across the opponent's goal line.  I know it sounds crazy, but believe me, the fans are absolutely fanatical about their team.  Most colleges and universities have some kind of hand signal used by students and alumni to show who they're cheering for.

"Anyway, that's how we met.  We were at a game between the University of Texas and Texas A&M.  They called a timeout on the field, and I ran to go buy a drink.  Gung-ho as I am, I dashed around a corner with my lemonade in hand and plowed into a young man.  Both of our drinks went flying, drenching the unfortunate soul."

She gazed at her husband.  "To my surprise, the soaked man calmly smiled and said, 'watch where you fly that thing!'  Realizing he was a pilot — an exceptionally handsome one to boot — I looked at his finger, saw no ring, and dove in, giving him a big smooch.  It was love at first sight!

"After a VERY prolonged kiss, I grabbed his shoulders and held him at bay, proudly displaying my magnificent white teeth and declared, in my well-honed, southern accent, 'I'm a flier too!'  Then I flashed my A&M thumb-up sign at him, shouting 'Gig-em Aggies!'"  She showed them the Gig-em gesture.

"The poor sap didn't know what hit him.  He leapt back, almost causing me to fall flat on my face, frowned, and revealed his Texas index-and-pinkie finger sign, thundering 'Hook-em Horns!'"  She demonstrated her version of the gesture, upside down.

Howard butted in.  "It's really like this."  He illustrated the proper position to hold the hand.

Amelia continued.  "Oh, if you say so.  Anyway, we stared at each other for a second, shrugged, lurched toward one another, and locked lips, surfacing for air every five minutes, or so it seemed.  He fell head over heels for me right on the spot."

She smiled at her husband.  "We got married three months later and never looked back.  For our honeymoon, we flew everywhere in Old North America.  We've enjoyed living each moment to its fullest.

"For years we tried having children, but it wasn't meant to be.  We decided to dedicate our lives to fighting for freedom, wherever we are needed, hence our trip here.  When y'all sent for help, we immediately volunteered.  Having heard about Ukkiville before, we knew our fate was to join the fight for your cause."

Tears flooded Mercivil's eyes.

Stormulka couldn't resist.  "Mercy, you're such a sap."

"Oh, hush."  She sniffled.

Amelia looked at her.  "How about you, Mercy — why aren't you married?"

Obviously caught off guard, her neck flushed.  "Heavens no, I'm far too busy!"  She fidgeted in her seat and gazed at Amelia with a shake of her head.  "I'd much rather hear more about you.  How did you get your name?  It's beautiful and sounds familiar."

"Thank you.  My mother named me after Amelia Earhart, the aviation pioneer from the Old United States.  My grandfather was an Air Force pilot who gave me model fighter planes flown in all the different wars the U.S. fought to preserve freedom.  It's no wonder I became a pilot when I grew up.

"I just love soaring above the clouds, admiring the sunsets, storms, and the earth below as I zoom across the sky.  It's a perspective few in the New World ever experience."

Stormulka cocked his head.  "Where do you get fuel to fly so far?"

"Many of the Texas refineries survived WAP.  Aviation fuel is transported to a limited number of the larger trading posts with nearby landing strips across the Old United States and Old Canada.  We carry a map of the strategic locations whenever we travel.  There's one in Old Bismarck, North Dakota, where we filled our tanks before coming here."

She turned to Mercivil and clutched her hand.  "I sure hope you can fly with me someday and visit us in Texas."  She looked around the table.  "Y'all can come too.  Our home is open any time.  We'll even pick you up in our private plane if you'd like."

Mercivil's eyelids lifted as far as they could.  "Really?  I'd love to fly — and go to Texas!  It sounds amazing!"