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A quote: “We deem those happy who from the experience of life have learnt to bear its ills without being overcome by them.” ~~ Carl Jung
I’ll start with a story …
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Dah found me close to death in Old City ruins … 3? 4 years old?
Don’t remember. Dah shared what food he had, clothed me … following him each day as he grumbled “Don’t know why I keep you. Trouble for sure.” At first, it scared me. But each night I curled up in the hollow of his shoulder and slept deep.
Told me when I was old enough, trained enough, we’d go back to his people.
I buried Dah best I could before leaving. Now I sit each day and sing the story of his life while I wait.
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Now, it’s your turn.
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. featured image, cropped, Adobe Stock standard license
The brisk wind had a hint of sea breeze in it — not as much as in the redwood forests, but enough to know the Pacific Ocean wasn’t far away. Lisa looked out across the mountainside, seeking any evidence of human activity.
How much everything had changed in these few months. If all had gone as planned, she would have her PhD now and would be doing a post-doc — but that was gone, the door to that future forever closed by a combination of unrecognized psi and anti-Sharp bigotry.
Now she was here on stakeout, watching for the Flannigan Administration’s efforts to create false-flag terrorist acts and blame them on the Sharp Resistance. Was that slender column of smoke a legitimate cabin, or the beginnings of a forest fire?
It would be so much easier if telepathy could localize a threatening mind. But the quantum hologram was, as the name said, holographic. At best a strong and skilled telepath might be able to pluck out a visual image with a distinctive element that would indicate place — but she was neither strong nor skilled, although her trainers said she would gain the latter with practice.
Even as she missed the simple comforts of Sparta Point — a warm bed and plentiful hot food — she didn’t dare long for them. The Feds had their own telepaths, and at least one of them was known to be in this area, searching for Sharps that had escaped their grasp. Governor Thorne might have made the Golden State a refuge for a hunted people, but her forces couldn’t be everywhere.
So Lisa would continue to masquerade as a hiker who’d paused to rest here at the side of this mountain trail.
Lewis says: I wore my light-colored hat and sweater on purpose. The Defenders are all around me, keeping watch. The Policers are coming and we hope my light colors wave them on like a banner of stupidity. I stand out like a sore thumb on the dark rock and among the autumn foliage.
I hear them, it’s working, closer and closer. They move on stealthy feet, but I have been chosen not only for my looks, but for my above average hearing. Just below me, the Defenders are ready, a few more moments, and we’ll have another group to use for propaganda!
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