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HEROES
By
Douglas Neman

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Timeline: Years later
Author's E-Mail: DLNSpirit@aol.com & spirit@compugen.net

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Author's note: Throughout this story are several references to the time of day, and days of the week. For lack of any evidence to the contrary, I have decided that planet G889 has a day only slightly shorter than Earth's, and a comparable year. I imagine that, for the sake of familiarity, mankind will carry the means of telling time to the stars, adapting them wherever necessary. I also imagine that the tenet of the five-day work week, with Saturday and Sunday being considered weekends, will prevail for many hundreds of years in the future.

Even in this alien setting, the characters use familiar references for telling time. Please don't let that fool you into thinking they are somewhere else.

DLN

All characters in this publication are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is the product of your own deranged imagination. Deal with it.

Any archaeological or geological mistakes made in this story are due to the ignorance of the author, not the characters.

To all my podmates --
G889 archaeologists and historians, every one.

---

The Story Before the Story

Five men in business suits pushed their way past the security guards and burst into the Oval Office. The President of the United States started to stand up in outrage, and more security agents went for their guns. But they all stopped when they saw who it was. The President slowly sat back down, turning a little pale.

The most prominent of the five men, a big man who looked like he should have been a bouncer at an exotic resort, gently but firmly placed his briefcase on the desk in front of the President. The remaining four men stood beside him, two on either side.

"Well," the President smiled hopefully, failing to conceal his nervousness. "What can I do for you?"

"Mr. President," the big man said, "we are here to talk to you about one of the most pressing problems in the world today. Maybe even *the* most pressing problem."

"You mean health care?" the President asked. The man scowled contemptuously. "No, sir, I don't mean health care." "Poverty? The homeless? The fact that our nation's high-schoolers can't name all 50 states?"

"No, Mr. President! Nothing so paltry would make us travel across the country to be here!"

"Uh, well," the President gulped, "what is it then?" The big man sighed, as if the entire world had just really disappointed him that afternoon, and said, "As you know, Mr. President, we are the most powerful men in Hollywood. And that makes us the most powerful men in the world. But we have recently become aware of a cultural force which severely threatens our position, and it must be dealt with, swiftly and irrevocably."

Confused, the President looked off to one side, repeating "swiftly and irrevocably" to himself, trying to work his way through that phrase.

"We are talking, Mr. President, about *fan fiction authors.* People -- if such scum of the universe could be considered 'people' -- who are taking fictional characters which we have created and are perverting them to their own sick, evil, twisted purposes."

"Oh!" the President's face cleared, then clouded again in confusion. "That's the most pressing problem in the world today?"

One of the other Hollywood men spoke up. "These fanfic thieves have infested the entire world like cockroaches, Mr. President. They're all over the internet, corrupting America's youth, burning down churches, that sort of thing."

"Really?" the President asked.
"Really," the big man repeated. "These authors are endangering our hold on America because most of the general population is somehow becoming convinced that they are writing better stories than we do, and that can't be allowed to happen."

"It can't?" the President asked.
"No," the big man said. "It can't." A third Hollywood man spoke up. "Of course, this rumor about fanfic authors writing good stories is a myth. It is an evil social myth, seemingly coming from nowhere. We suspect a communist plot."

The President screwed up his face as he tried to think. "Aren't the communists our friends now?"

"Only if we say they are," the big man said. "Oh. Well, it doesn't appear to be my problem," the President smiled, feeling like he'd finally come to a conclusion about whatever it was these people were talking about. He just wanted them to go away.

The big man just looked down at him for a second, then said, "Mr. President, we want you to help us."

"Oh, I'm afraid I can't do that," the President smiled. "You see, I've got my hands full with this scandal, then I have tea with the Queen, and Prime Minister Chretien is coming down for golf later this evening."

"Mr. President," the big man said patiently, "from 20 years ago until about three years ago, it was fashionable for men in authority in the movies, especially the President of the United States, to be evil. It made the hero look better. Like in "Aliens," when Sigourney Weaver goes up against the big bad corporation, or in "Clear and Present Danger," in which the President is depicted as a slimy traitor.

"But in the last few years, the American public has again yearned for a leader who is *good.* Just look at "Independence Day" and "Air Force One," both of which presented the President of the United States as a hero -- a good, strong man who never flinched, and faced problems with courage and resolution and wisdom!"

The President was glowing, staring up at the ceiling, caught up in the vision. "Yeah!" he smiled.

The big man from Hollywood leaned in close and said, "But think about that, Mr. President. The American movie-going public will see you in the way that *we* depict you on screen. If we want to make you look like Harrison Ford, we can do that. If we want to make you look like PeeWee Herman, we can do that, too."

The big man sneered.
The President gulped.
He went on. "If we want to make you look like Billy Graham, we can do that. If we want to make you look like Carrot-Top, we can do that."

The President had his head in his hands, shaking it back and forth, saying "No, please stop!"

The big man in the fancy suit leaned even closer and said quietly, "If we want to make you look like Warren Littlefield, we can even do that!"

"NOOOOOO!!!!" the President shrieked, aghast. "No! Not that! I'll do anything! Anything you want! You name it, it's done! Anything!"

The big man stood up again and smiled grandly. "We thought you'd see it our way, Mr. President. Now, what we want is for you to pick up the phone and get the United Nations Security Council to track down and eliminate these so-called fanfic authors."

"All of them?" the President quivered. "No. We have something special in mind." He stretched out his hand. Smiling, one of the other men handed him a thick book.

"This is a list of all the fanfic authors we could find, in alphabetical order," he said. "We plan to choose one, for now, and make a complete example out of him. An example so harsh, so cruel, so painful that it will make every single one of the little buggers around the world scamper back into hiding and be afraid to come out for at least 50 years."

"Which one?" the President asked.
"It doesn't matter. We'll pick one at random." The President nodded. He picked up the phone, and for the next five minutes, he spoke with executives at the United Nations and the Pentagon. By the time he'd finished, his own personal crack commando squad had assembled in his office, awaiting his word.

The President hung up the phone. "I've got four aircraft carriers waiting off either coast, plus one in the Gulf of Mexico and one just west of Hawaii. Every Army and Air Force Base in the country has been alerted, and NASA has all satellite tracking systems on line and ready to go."

The big man smiled, and nodded to one of his cohorts. The second man picked up the list of authors and opened it up to a point as close to the middle as he could. He closed his eyes and stabbed his finger onto the page randomly.

He opened his eyes to read which name he'd picked. "Douglas Neman, Dallas, Texas," he said. *"GO!"* the sergeant yelled. Immediately, the troops ran to the helicopters. Satellite tracking systems swung across the North American continent to focus on the target. Stealth bombers silently split the night overhead, ready to give support at a moment's notice.

"Dallas!" one of the Hollywood men sneered. "The city where Kennedy was assassinated. A communist plot. I knew it!"

The big man just nodded his agreement. It all did seem to make sense.

And that's how it happened.
All this I learned later, of course. At the time, I had no clue. There I was, sitting in my shorts and T-shirt, eating a bowl of cereal and proof-reading my latest story, when suddenly the porch doors blew in, the front door was kicked open, and four men clad in black from head to toe burst into my apartment with sub-machine guns. They threw me on the floor, held a gun to my head, and swarmed all over the apartment.

"Greyhound to Trap One," I heard one of them say. "Target secure, no casualties. Encountered *heavy* resistance, but my men dealt with the threat according to their training."

"Is there any signs of terrorist activity?" came a voice over the radio. I couldn't see what was happening. My face was full of the living room carpet. I realized it needed vacuuming, now that I was up close and personal to it.
I found myself wishing I'd cleaned the place up for my new guests.

"No signs of terrorist activity or affiliation," their leader said. "Wait a moment!" another voice said. "I'm detecting a radiation leak in the kitchen!"

"Greyhound to Trap One, stand by for EP Delta Zero-Four!" "Oh, sorry," the second voice said again. "The radiation detector was just picking up some really old milk in the refrigerator."

"Greyhound to Trap One, stand down EP Delta Zero-Four," the commander said. He sounded disappointed that he would not now be able to run EP Delta Zero-Four -- whatever it was.

"Trap One to Greyhound," the voice at the other end of the radio crackled. "Is the target area clean and secure?"

"Target area is secure..." the commando leader looked around at the papers strewn all over the place and the dishes piled up in the sink. "But I don't think it's really all that clean."

More soldiers were still rifling through all my possessions. I heard a couple of hoots as they discovered the Playboys in the back closet. I didn't care if they read them, but if there were any missing, there'd be hell to pay.

One of the men looking through my video tapes said, "Hey! He's got a complete run of 'Earth 2!' You got good taste, there, pal!"

"Thanks!" I spoke up. "I think-"
"Quiet!" the gun in my neck ground in even harder. "Only speak if you're spoken to!"

I held up a finger. "But I *was* spoken to! He started it!" "Only speak if you're spoken to!" my guard yelled again. "But you're speaking to me now!" I yelled back. "I AM NOT SPEAKING TO YOU! NOW SHUT UP!" Then I was hauled to my feet to face the commando leader. "Is there anything you'd like to confess now?" he asked.

My guard was holding a gun to my face, and he looked really angry. I whispered to him, "Can I talk now?"

"NO! YES! JUST SHUT UP AND ANSWER THE QUESTION!!!" I shrugged, and asked the commander, "He's new, isn't he?" The commander looked confused. "Yes, he is. How did you know that?" "Look," I said, switching tactics, "are you sure you don't have me confused with someone else? The guy downstairs smokes pot sometimes. Maybe you got us mixed up or something."

Another soldier came up and saluted. "Place is clear, sir. Nothing suspicious, except for *these!"* He held up some of my stories.

"All right. Bring him."
They handcuffed me and took me outside, where a helicopter had landed in the parking lot. At least five of my neighbors were out in their underclothes, or wrapped in robes or blankets, video-taping the entire event. Several of the soldiers mugged for the cameras.

They bundled me into the helicopter and away we went. Several hours later, I was face to face with the five most powerful men in the world. Oh, and the President of the United States was there, too, as well as the top man at the United Nations, whose name I could never remember. I'm really bad about names. I hoped I wouldn't have to introduce myself.

I was sitting in a chair facing all these men, who just leaned on desks or against the walls. There was no table in front of me. I found myself staring up the nostrils of the big man from Hollywood, who just seemed to ooze power. In my mind, I called him Mr. Hollywood.

"Mr. Neman," he said smoothly, "you have caused us a great deal of trouble." I shook my head. "You know, I'm quite certain you wanted the guy downstairs. He smokes pot and plays his stereo too loud. I've never met you before in my life."

"And you will never want to meet me again," he smiled. "Good. Can I go?"
"Not until you've paid the full price for your crimes!" he snapped. "Good. That's done. Now can I go?"
One of the other Hollywood men spoke up. "Were you responsible for killing Kennedy?"

"Um...no."
"Can you prove that?"
"Yes. I wasn't born until 1969. Now can I go?" "Mr. Neman, you are an author of fan fiction, is that correct?" "You betcha."
"So you are guilty of writing stories which consist of characters you did not create?"

"Absitively posolutely."
"And you have no shame about that whatsoever?" "Nnnnnnnnnnope."
"Can you *possibly* justify such evil behavior?" "Sure can. The question is, can you justify yours?" "I don't have to."
"Then neither do I," I smiled.
It was at times like these that I was glad my hero was a Time Lord. Doing what he would do often gave me answers.

"All right," Mr. Hollywood said, "lets say for the sake of argument I will deign to debate the issue with you. Justify yourself."

"Glad to," I replied. "I'm using characters that others have thrown away into the trash pile, and one man's trash is another man's treasure."

"That's no excuse."
"Sure it is. If you saw someone drive down the road and toss something out of the window and into the gutter which they thought was worthless, but you thought was priceless, is there any law which says you can't pick it up and save it for yourself, in your own way? Especially if it's something you need?"

The President's eyes got wide. For a moment, I thought he was impressed with my supreme logic and debating skill, but then I realized that he was just ogling a cute blonde who had walked by in the hallway outside.

I turned to get a look at her myself. Yeah, she was pretty cute. I wondered briefly if she might have a thing for wrongly-accused felons. I decided not to press my luck.

Mr. Hollywood just gave a thin smile. "Your analogy is weak. The characters you are using have not been thrown on the trash pile, they have simply been stored away in a warehouse. They aren't trash, even if they'll never be used again. Like old photographs one hardly ever looks at, they're sitting in storage. And to use them without permission is equivalent to breaking and entering."

"Like Robin Hood," I countered, "I'm just taking from the stingy and giving to the needy."

"That's still no excuse."
Damn, he had me there.
"Well, they're my heroes," I said. It was all I could think to say. Rather than giving up this tiny advantage, I kept my mouth motoring on, saying whatever came next.

"The characters I write about are ones which have touched my life, touched my heart. Sure, someone else created them. And the creators should be proud of them. Damn proud. But when they become my heroes, they become something more than fictional characters. They become cultural icons, or even personal icons. They become family. They become people I care about, and through which I connect with other *real* people I care about, people whom I would never have met otherwise. And once such icons have been set in motion, they can't be stopped.

"Works of fiction and characters are like all other living things -- if they're not growing, they're dead. There is no in-between state of limbo, such as you describe."

For a few seconds, no one spoke. The only sound was one of the Hollywood men crying openly. "That was beautiful, man!" he blubbered, and blew his nose. *Honnnnnk!* "That was just beautiful!"

"Thanks," I said.
Still silence.
"Mr. President, are we ready to pronounce sentence?" asked Mr. Hollywood. "You know," the President said, pointing at me, "I think he's got a point. I think this young man has a fine brain, and upstanding moral character."

If only he knew, I thought. But I didn't want to burst his bubble. "I was an Eagle Scout, Mr. President," I said, encouraging the only man who could possibly get me out of this jam.

"Well, there you are!" the President exclaimed. "I think he's okay!" "I thought we had a deal, Mr. President," Mr. Hollywood said softly. "What deal?" I asked. I needed to find out what was going on or I couldn't fight it -- and I needed to know pronto. I asked Mr. Hollywood, "Did you promise him women in exchange for backing you?"

"I'm not that cheap!" the President yelled. "He promised me *power!"* "Oh," I said, pretending to understand. "In that case, I would have thought you'd want to be on the winning side."

"You mean, *your* side?" the President asked me. "Sure," I answered. "Look -- I had just finished one of my stories when all this came crashing down on me. Let me read you *that* story! Let me show you what we can do!" I looked at Mr. Hollywood. "Unless you're afraid."

He glowered and sat down. "All right," he said. "We'll take you up on that. Read us your story. Prove to me that you know what you're doing."

One of the security agents stepped forward and placed the latest story I'd written, confiscated from my apartment when I'd been arrested, on my lap. Oddly enough, it was called "Heroes." I'd been hoping to release it on April 19, the one-year anniversary of EvacPod Con. Perhaps I still could, if I made it through this night alive.

They uncuffed my hands. Rubbing my wrists because they were sore, I asked for a drink of water. While one of the agents went to get it, I idly leafed through my story, and prepared to read for my life.

This is what I told them.

---

Heroes
by Douglas Neman

Chapter 1: The Journey Begins

"Now, who can tell me the name of the ship the Founding Fifteen arrived in?"

Anna smiled at the sea of hands which shot up into the air. "Melissa?" "The *Roanoke,"* a little girl said proudly. "That's right," Anna said. "And why was it called that? Anyone know?" No one did.
"Devon Adair named her advance ship the *Roanoke* after an old, old colony back on Earth," Anna explained. "You see, 800 years ago, our distant ancestors were all still on one planet, the Earth. And they didn't have the technology that we have. They didn't have electricity, or machines, or space ships. It took a long time to travel from one place to another. And some groups of people sailed on wooden ships far over the ocean to set up colonies in new and different places, which they had never seen before. One of the first colonies our ancestors set up was at a place called "Roanoke." It was in honor of this historic colony that Devon Adair named her ship by the same name. If you'll all activate your gear, I'll show you a representation of what it looked like."

The children all wore gear sets over their heads. They all swung the eyepieces around and connected into the VR program Anna had brought with her.

They were instantly transported to a world of log cabins and sunshine. People dressed in funny clothing -- from head to toe -- walked around. There were horses, carts, pigs, chickens and several other animals.

"How did they live like this?" one of the little boys asked. "Well, to them, this was normal," Anna said. "They had never known any other way of life."

"I got a program like this at home!" another boy spoke up, tugging on Anna's jacket. "But it's got these pirates in it, and they come in these great big ships, with cannons, and try to blow up the town, and it's up to me to save everyone!"

Anna laughed. "Well, that's a game. You won't find any pirates in this VR program. This is just a historical representation of what we think the colony looked like."

"Oh," the boy said, clearly disappointed. Mrs. Angelhide, the teacher, motioned to her watch that they were almost out of time. Anna nodded and switched off the program. They found themselves back in the classroom.

"Now, the colony of Roanoke was founded in the Earth year of 1587," Anna said. "Can anyone tell me what year we know that as?"

Some of the children looked confused. A couple of them quickly pulled out their datapads and did the math, each hoping to be the first to arrive at the answer.

"Six hundred nineteen BC!" they both cried. "That's right," Anna nodded.
Another little girl raised her hand. "My dad said that 'BC' used to stand for 'Before Christ,'" she said.

Anna nodded again. "That's true. Back on Earth, 'BC' stands for 'Before Christ.' But here on our planet, it stands for something else. Do you all know what it stands for?"

"'Before Crash,'" the children echoed. "That's right!" Anna said. "You all are really smart!" She turned to the teacher. "They are so smart!"

"They certainly are," Mrs. Angelhide said. "All right class, it's time for Ms. LeClark to go. Now remember, she's the curator at the New Pacifica Historical Museum. If we're nice to her, maybe we can see her again someday. Maybe we even can take a tour of the museum. So can we all tell her, 'Thank you' for coming out here today?"

"Thank you," the children echoed, getting up from the semi-circle around her and heading back to their seats.

"You're welcome," Anna said. Then she quickly put her VR chips in her bag, said good-bye to the teacher and left.

The moment Anna LeClark was beyond the door, her cheerful smile disappeared and she fell back against it, holding her forehead in one hand. She felt so tired, and she really didn't know why. And her head hurt.

She wearily weaved her way through the parking lot, found her car, found some pain-killer in one of the dashboard compartments, and drove back to the museum.

She wondered why she had accepted Mrs. Angelhide's request to visit her class. She was already overloaded with work as it was. Not only was she curator of the museum, she was also head of the Bicentennial Planning Committee. She didn't have time to be doing other things like this.

She reached the museum, noting that most of the staff seemed to have gone for the day. She should have been irritated at this, for some of her work could not be accomplished unless they were there to assist her. But she was secretly pleased. She really wanted some peace and quiet for the rest of the evening.

Of course, if she *really* wanted peace and quiet, she supposed she could have gone home. But she knew she didn't want to go there.

She nodded at Howard, sitting behind the security desk, as she entered the building, and made her way to her office. She laid her bag and coat over a chair as she entered, and sighed as she noticed the 87 messages waiting for her. Couldn't the world just get along without her for one day?

Dropping heavily into the chair behind her desk, she scanned through the messages, and caught her breath when she noted that the first was from Matt.

Damn. What did he want now?
She hesitated before running it. She really didn't want to deal with this. "Ms. LeClark?"
She jumped slightly. A man stood in the doorway, smiling hopefully. One hand was raised to knock on her open office door. His other hand held a briefcase, and a coat was draped over his arm.

"Yes?"
"Hello." Smiling brightly, like he'd just discovered a long-lost friend, he walked in and shook her hand. "I'm Roger Fulbright, head of Archaeology at Heller University."

"Oh!" Anna broke into a surprised smile. "Mr. Fulbright! I've always wondered when we would meet in person. Uh...what brings you here?"

Mr. Fulbright was grinning with barely concealed excitement as he sat down opposite her. "Well, I am in need of your assistance. I've been trying to reach you all day, but your staff told me you were out. They said you would return later this afternoon, so I came here directly to meet you."

"Yes," Anna said hesitantly, wondering why he had come to meet her in person. "I was giving a talk to some six-year-olds at one of our local schools."

"Really?" he asked. "I wouldn't have thought you would have to do any work on the side."

Anna froze for a split second, taken aback. As Mr. Fulbright gazed at her, she realized he had asked that question with perfect innocence, and a complete lack of tact.

"I did it for free, Mr. Fulbright." "Oh, yes, of course," he nodded and smiled. "So sorry." "Mr. Fulbright-"
"Uh, *Roger,* please."
Anna nodded. "Roger -- isn't it somewhat unusual to hop a plane and travel halfway around the world just to talk to somebody?"

"It most certainly is!" he said eagerly. "But I think you'll agree that this is an unusual occasion."

Anna sighed. "I don't like games, Mr. Fulbright. Please come to the point." He pulled out a recording chip and handed it over. "I think you'll find that this will explain everything."

Anna looked at it curiously.
"You'll have to use one of the early model gear sets to read it, I'm afraid," he said. "As you can see, it's an old 16 megabyte record-"

"I do know my history, Mr. Fulbright," Anna said, giving him a quick warning glance.

"Roger," he whispered with a smile. Anna opened a safe and took out a rare antique, an old-fashioned gear set. She had to have one in her office, as it was the only way to read data chips over 150 years old.

She gently put it on, plugged the chip in, swung the eyepiece around, and turned it on.

Both the picture and the voice were blurred and scattered with static. She could make out a white, round hut set against a snow drift. A soft, eloquent voice with a strange accent drifted like music into her ear.

"Day....n this planet...log n...ber 67: The original inhab...of this dome had e...ntly prepared for a long sta...not found any records of who they w...sent here by the stations as outlaws-"

Another voice appeared on the recording. "Yale?" The original speaker stopped and turned. The view showed a raven-haired woman approaching. And Anna knew that face all too well.

She ripped off the headset and thrust it at Roger. "Is this a joke?" she snapped.

"No joke, Ms. LeClark," Roger whispered, smiling. He pointed at the gear set. "Keep going."

Anna stared at him for a long moment. Slowly, she put the headset back on and restarted the recording. To her relief, the static cleared a little as it went on.

"What is it, Devon?" the speaker asked, apparently forgetting to pause the recording.

Devon Adair approached and looked the speaker in the eye. Anna realized this must be Yale, the tutor of Ulysses.

"Have you seen Uly? I can't find him anywhere." "I believe he and Baines and True are off learning how to build snowmen." "Off learning how to get pneumonia, you mean," Devon said. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about it, Devon," a third speaker said. A blonde woman walked into the field of vision. "I think you're overreacting. They'll be all right, just as long as they're bundled up, and don't stay out for extended periods of time."

"With respect, Julia," Devon said, "you don't know anything more about snow and cold than we do."

Julia just smiled. "Snow? No. Cold? Yes, I do. They'll be fine." With that she walked on.

Devon just shook her head.
"Devon," Yale said, "the snow is coming down harder each night, and the average temperature is still dropping. I think it would be very wise if we were to make serious plans to stay here for the entire winter."

Devon sighed. "I know, but I don't like it. Every delay means less time to set up the colony at New Pacifica, Yale."

"I agree, but what can we do?"
There was obviously more to the recording, but Anna could no longer contain herself. She ripped it off again. "Is this for real?" she asked.

Roger nodded.
"The Winter Camp?" Anna breathed, hardly daring to believe it. "This...is an original recording of three members of the Founding Fifteen, with a visual sighting of the Winter Camp?" She stared at him incredulously. "Year 1?"

Roger nodded again, allowing her the moment of excitement he himself had felt. Anna just stared at him, and swallowed hard.

"Where did you find it?" she finally asked. Smiling, Roger took out a map and unrolled it on her desk. "Here," he pointed. "In the middle of the Martin Mountains. And I'm not the one who found it -- Grendler hunters found it."

"Grendler hunters?"
"Yes," Roger said with distaste. "Even though hunting Grendlers is illegal, you'd be surprised at the number of people who only think of them as animals, and hunt them. Two days ago, the forestry office caught two hunters in the Martin Mountains with a couple of Grendler pelts. One of the hunters had this little treasure among his possessions," he pointed at the recording.

"And how did you get ahold of it?" Anna asked. "The forestry officer who made the arrest, Officer Haguewood, was a student of mine, and she's pure hell on anyone who hunts Grendlers. She's very fascinated with the history of the Founding Fifteen, and finding historical sites. She recognized the chip for what it is and contacted me about it.

"When I realized what she had, I persuaded the university board of regents to get involved just in time. They spoke with the justice department, who promised to give the hunter a little leniency if he could tell us exactly where he picked up this recording."

"And did he?"
"When he realized what was at stake, he led us to the very spot." Anna's face fell. "You realize he probably led you to nowhere in particular, just to save his worthless neck."

Roger reached into his briefcase and pulled out a sonograph. "We took a satellite reading of the area he led us to." He handed it across. "This is what we found."

Anna looked at it. Sound waves penetrating the surface of the earth had bounced back to give an incredible picture: one medium-sized dome and two smaller structures.

She looked up in amazement. She almost felt like crying. "You found it," she breathed. "You found the Winter Camp from year 1." Roger pointed at the map again. "The Reagan fault line runs right by their campsite. My comrades in the geology department tell me that it gave a slight hiccup about 190 years ago -- enough to move some dirt around and cover the site completely. That's why we've never been able to find it."

"This campsite is about 10 meters underground," Anna said. "How did the hunter find the recording? How did that little recording chip get to the surface?"

"We don't know. That's a bit of a mystery." Anna let out a huge breath, her mind awhirl with the possibilities. Then she looked sharply at Roger. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"Money," he said simply.
"Uh huh," she replied, leaning back in her chair. "My university has already blown most of its budget for the year. I'm certain I could convince them to fund an expedition to uncover the site, but the fiscal year doesn't start for another three months, and this can't wait. *And* I know you and your museum *do* have money. In fact, because of the upcoming bicentennial, I believe you have more funds available than you usually do."

Anna gave Roger an appraising look. "Would you have shared this discovery with me if it weren't for the fact that you needed funding?"

"No."
Anna found herself laughing. "I wouldn't have either. When can you start?" "When can you?"
"Tomorrow morning -- and thank goodness it's a Saturday. I'll prepare everything we need tonight. I don't care how many people I have to wake up. Be at the New Pacifica airfield at 6:00 a.m."

"I'll be there at 5:00," Roger said. He gathered his belongings and left. Anna counted to ten to make sure Roger was fully out of earshot, then keyed a button on her desk and raised security.

"Howard here," a voice said.
"Howard, this is Anna. Run a check on the man who was just here. Verify that he is Roger Fulbright of Heller University."

"Right away, ma'am," Howard said.
Smiling to herself, Anna instructed the computer to start playing her messages. Her excitement plummeted as she heard Matt's voice -- she'd completely forgotten that she didn't want to hear anything he had to say right then. She closed her eyes, refusing to look at his face on the screen.

"Anna, this is Matt. Look, I'm really sorry, but I'm going to have to change plans for dropping off Todd. Dana's parents came into town early, with no warning, and I can't just leave in the middle of the evening to come see you. I'll swing by the museum on the way home from work and leave him there with you. I'll probably be there around 6:00. See ya."

Anna sat bolt upright and called up her calendar on her datapad. *Damn!* This was a weekend when she had Todd! In her excitement over the greatest archaeological find of the century, she had completely forgotten!

She looked at her watch: 5:30. Double-damn with chocolate on top! She snapped the return key on the message board. Matt's face appeared. He was behind the wheel of his car, although he didn't look like he was driving anywhere. "Matt LeClark," he said.

"Matt, look, I've been out all day, and I *just* got your message. I can save us both some trouble -- don't bother bringing Todd by. Something incredibly important has just come up, and I can't have him this weekend. You'll have to keep him."

Matt gasped several times in astonishment and frustration. "What do you mean, 'I'll *have* to keep him?' This is part of the agreement. It's what you *wanted,* if I recall!"

"I know, I did, and I do, but this is really major, really really major. Please, Matt. I absolutely cannot afford to keep Todd this weekend."

From off the screen, Anna heard a little voice whisper, "Mommy doesn't want to see me."

She closed her eyes.
Double-damn with chocolate and strawberries -- of course Todd would be in the car listening. This was not turning into one of her better days.

"Yes, mommy wants to see you very, very badly," she said aloud. "But sometimes bad things happen, Todd, which keep us from being able to do the things we want to do, and we just have to deal with them as best as we can. And this is one of those times."

"You're telling me," Matt said dryly. They glared at each other.
"Please, Matt," she whispered.
Matt sighed. "Todd, wait for me outside for a second." Anna heard a car door open and close. "Anna, do you know where I am?" Matt asked. She shook her head.
"I'm right outside. I'm in the parking lot of your precious, holy, God-almighty museum. That thing you seem to care about so goddamned much. Why didn't you call earlier?"

"This *just* came up-"
"And I'm supposed to suddenly turn my entire schedule inside out to accommodate you? Anna, I got sick of that. I divorced you for that *very reason,* so I wouldn't have to put up with this crap any more. And I *still* have to put up with it!"

Anna had her head in her hands. "Matt-" "Now let me ask you another question," he continued. "Do you know where I'll be tomorrow morning?"

"In hell, I hope," she whispered.
"In the New Cayman Islands," he said. "Dana and I are going there for the weekend. It's a getaway for two. Not three -- two. No children -- just us. We've been planning it for months."

"You said Dana's parents were in town. Maybe they could watch him." "Anna, they are only in for the evening!" Matt exploded. "They're returning to Denner Point later tonight, for Chrissake! Now come on!"

There was silence for a moment, and Anna could not look at him. "Fine," she said. "Send him on up. And tell him he's going on a field trip tomorrow."

She flicked the channel closed and flopped back in her chair. Her eyes were shut, and she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

A second later, her video screen came back to life. "Howard here, ma'am. The ID checks positive. He was the real man, all right."

She managed a weak smile. "Thanks, Howard." "I take it he hit you up for some money, ma'am?" "Oh, more than that, Howard. If he had turned out to be another fraud, I would have become the laughing stock of the world. I just can't be too careful since I almost shelled out a thousand credits for a fake leg brace supposedly worn by Alonzo Solace."

"The things people do for money and fame, ma'am." "Right," she whispered. Howard couldn't know how close to home that statement hit.

"Oh," she said, "my little boy should be entering the building about now. He...would you escort him up to me? His father...is in a hurry, and probably needs to be on his way."

"I understand, ma'am," Howard said. From the way he said it, it sounded as if he truly did understand. "I'll bring him right there. Okay if I get him an ice cream from the shop?"

"Sure," she smiled. "I'll be out on the floor." She took off her badge and tossed it on the desk. For once, she just wanted to walk the floor anonymously, as a patron of the arts of history, rather than as the museum curator.

She left her office and walked out into the empty rooms and sections of the museum. It was open until late, but most people were eating dinner about now, so she was relatively alone. Without the badge to identify her, no one stopped and asked where the rest rooms were or tried to engage her in discussions about the origins of the Terrians. She drifted through the exhibits, running her fingers lightly along the glass cases.

Anna LeClark knew a phenomenal amount of history, but she specialized in the Founding Fifteen.

There was something romantic, something beautiful, something truly heroic about the early pioneers of her world, and the struggle they had waged across the continent, against incredible odds, to found the city in which she now lived. Her grandfather had helped design the monument to them in Adair Park. She could recite all their names: John Danziger, Alonzo Solace, Braden Croix. She even knew of the 16th member who hadn't made it all the way, Eben Singh. Eben's burial site was another mystery she hoped to solve within her lifetime.

It should have been so easy, but Anna knew it never would be. That historic trip across the planet had been diligently recorded on over a hundred chips, in over a thousand log entries, detailing everything from medical history, to chronology, to the route they had taken.

And then the Great Fire of year 3, raging across New Pacifica, had destroyed their library, and all those records were lost.

It wasn't fair. Mankind didn't use papyrus and shroud its history in myth any more. The Founding Fifteen had upheld their responsibility admirably, recording everything for future academicians. Dr. Heller and Morgan Martin, in particular, had been fastidious and highly detailed in their work.

But after all that, even in these advanced times, historians were still groping in the dark, just like they always had. It was like a curse. They still had to piece together the past from legends, Grendler tales, and the rare historical find.

Like Fulbright's.
It was the find of the century, there was no doubt about that. The Winter Camp -- and just five months before the bicentennial! It was almost too good to be true!

She found herself in front of her favorite exhibit, her personal pride of the entire museum: the TransRover. It wasn't just any TransRover -- it was *the* TransRover. The very one, handled and touched and driven and packed and unpacked by the Founding Fifteen for years on end, the one which had practically carried them on its unbreakable back across the continent.

It had only been placed on display at the end of its life. The old thing looked beat up, worn down, and half replaced. John Danziger himself had probably done most of it. It was going to be the primary display at the bicentennial celebrations next summer -- the 200th anniversary of the crash of the *Roanoke.*

She traced her fingers along the glass. She had only touched the TransRover once.

She really wished she could do so again. And what would she find? she thought. What would she get from placing her hands on the machine in front of her? Answers? Did she think all the answers to all her problems could be found in the past? That everything would become right in the world if only she could find a way to reach the Founding Fifteen?

Would all her problems go away if she could just touch her heroes, just for a moment?

"Mom?"
She looked down to find Todd by her side with an ice cream cone in his hand, staring up at her with sad eyes. Down at the end of the hallway, Howard was walking away, not looking back.

"Dad said we were going on a trip," Todd said. "We certainly are, honey."
"Why?"
Anna looked back at the TransRover. She stared at it, and then at the reflection of her face in the glass, looking right back at her. Suddenly, she felt like a stranger. She put her fingertips to the glass lightly.

"To find something," she said. "But I don't know what."

End of Chapter 1

---

Heroes
by Douglas Neman

Chapter 2: The Journey is Impeded

The cargo hoverplane flew over the continent in the bright morning sunshine, toward the Martin Mountains. The sun rose quite rapidly as they flew eastward to meet it. Sunlight sparkled off the snow which blanketed the world.

"What story did you leave on the office recorder?" Anna asked. "I said that we had all quit," Richard replied. "You did not!"
Richard just laughed.
In addition to Roger Fulbright and her son Todd, Anna had chosen her three immediate assistants to come along -- Richard, Susan and Daniel.

Fulbright had procured ten graduate students of archaeology from Heller University, who sat behind them. Like lambs to the slaughter, they had cheerfully volunteered for hundreds of hours of free labor in exchange for being on hand when the site was uncovered.

They had been sworn to secrecy. The *last* thing Anna wanted was any members from the press traipsing over the site, ruining things and getting in the way. She had made herself abundantly clear about this.

She had also made herself abundantly clear that she was in charge of the expedition. She and Fulbright had had a very sharp argument about that on the airfield this morning, an argument which had lasted all of ten seconds.

The person with the money had won.
In order to keep the press away, however, she had to come up with a valid reason for the disappearance of herself and her staff, for she was a prominent member of the community. Putting together the bicentennial was a full-time job, and she would be missed, even on a Saturday. She had delegated this task to Richard.

"No, seriously," Richard said. "The message I left says that you have contracted a sexually transmitted disease and have quit the museum in shame. Out of loyalty, the rest of us followed you, and we're all in hiding."

"I almost wish that were true," Anna replied. She glanced at Todd, who was staring out the window. She wished she could read his expression. Was he bored or fascinated by what he saw? She couldn't tell.

"I said that you were away on vacation for the weekend," Richard continued, more serious now. "You're preparing for a heavy slew of private meetings on Monday and Tuesday, meetings which will occupy all of your time. Daniel and I are in Bainesville trying to get a donation for the Terrian pre-history exhibit, and Susan -- well, Susan, you've had a death in the family. I'm so sorry," he reached over and patted Susan gently on the arm, "I'm afraid your grandmother has died."

Susan thrust out her lower lip.
"So my cover story only lasts until Tuesday?" Anna asked. "Richard, this dig will take a couple of weeks, at least!"

Richard threw up his hands. "Hey, I'm open to ideas," he said. She sighed. "Right. We'll come up with something." She unbuckled her seat belt, stood up and faced everyone in the plane, looking over the students Fulbright had brought with him.

Three of Fulbright's students were Dreamers, which had caught her off guard. She had never been completely comfortable around Dreamers. Terrians didn't bother her in the slightest -- in fact, she liked Terrians -- but seeing human beings act like Terrians always made her feel awkward, as if something was wrong with them, but she wasn't allowed to say anything because it wouldn't be polite.

She knew it was probably because she had been born and raised in the city, and Dreamers, with rare exception, shunned the cities completely. So she hardly ever came into contact with them.

All three were in the rear of the cabin. One was meditating, or whatever it was they did, crouching on the floor with his knees pointed up and his eyes closed. The other two were standing behind the others, holding their staffs. They were still human, and still laughed and talked and ate and drank like humans. It was just that they were also part Terrian, and sometimes did things like the Terrians did.

At least, Anna noted with relief, they didn't have any problems with the plane ride. No Terrian in history had ever allowed itself to be given a ride in a plane. Terrians hated leaving contact with the ground. It was an old joke that the only plane they enjoyed was the dream plane.

She thrust her feelings of discomfort about Dreamers to the back of her mind and addressed the students.

"I want to thank each and every one of you for coming along. I know it was short notice, and maybe you had plans for the weekend. If any of you wish to go back to your partying instead of join us for the dig, you're more than welcome to do so."

They all chuckled at this.
"Now remember -- winter is not quite over yet. In case any of you were raised in a locked room and don't know this, I'd like to tell you that it is cold in the mountains. Very cold. So don't over-exert yourselves or wander too far from camp.

"Also, watch out for Springbringers. We'll be working just 70 kilometers south of the springhole. Spring is almost here, and that means that some poor creature's going to be jumping into that great big hole sometime soon." She leaned forward a little. "And I don't want it to be any of you."

More chuckling.
"I've included a picture of the Springbringer in your information packets, in case any of you don't know what they look like. They're the first flowers to bloom every year in this part of the world, so if you see any flowers at all, they're probably Springbringers. Just stay far away from them. Is that understood?"

They all nodded.
"Great. We'll be landing in about 30 minutes." She sat back down. Roger leaned across the aisle. "Actually, we had to change course to avoid some weather, so we'll be landing in about an hour."

Anna nodded vaguely, and looked at Todd, still staring out the window. "Hey!" she said brightly, nudging him. "In a few weeks, some little animal is going to be infected with pollen, and it'll head north to jump in that big hole and make spring. If we have time, you want to go watch? It's not too far away. A lot of people camp at the springhole every year to watch it happen, and to rescue any people or Grendlers who might have been infected. I've heard it's pretty fun! Better than the zoo, eh?"

Todd just shrugged, without looking at her. Anna tightened her lips briefly in frustration, wishing she knew what the hell he wanted. What magic word did she have to speak, what magic wand did she have to possess, to become a part of his world?

Her son bent down and rummaged through his pack, stored under the seat. "What are you looking for, honey?"
"Action Ace."
"I thought you finished your Action Ace game," she said. "I did."
"Then what do you-"
"I've finished it lots of times," he said simply. "Where is it?" "I packed your VR gear in your suitcase. It's in the cargo hold." "Uh! Mom! Why?"
"Well, you told me last night you finished Action Ace. I thought that meant you were through with it."

"I'm never through with it!" he whined. "Why did you pack it in the cargo hold? I can't get it there!"

"I just told you why, so stop that. I didn't know you'd be upset. You'll just have to wait until we reach the site."

Todd folded his arms in a miniature huff and stared out the window again, as if his mother had just committed a crime. Anna sighed and shook her head.

He didn't speak to her the rest of the way.

Anna's headache began after they landed at Howie airfield, in the tiny town of Chamisa Trail, and it wasn't just because of the high altitude. Todd whined again about Action Ace. Loudly, in front of the others.

"No, Todd, I am not going to open the luggage here! Your suitcase is buried deep, and we've got a schedule to keep." She almost felt like slapping him. "Now go get on the bus!"

She turned back to the screen at the airfield's only phone booth. Needing repair, it spit a constant stream of static at her, but she was still able to get her point across to the man at the other end.

"Mr. Thompson, I specifically contracted you to meet me here at the airfield this morning with digging equipment. I'm here, you're not. You've got five seconds to tell me why I shouldn't call someone else."

"Because there is no one else," Mr. Thompson said, not intimidated in the slightest. "This isn't the big city. The nearest town beyond this one is 275 kilometers away. You wouldn't have your digging equipment until tomorrow."

"Better than not having it at all," Anna shot back. "Time's up." She made to switch off the machine.

"Wait!" This had gotten Mr. Thompson's attention. "I'm sorry," he smiled weakly. "My men were there this morning, but you didn't arrive, so they came back, thinking it was a mistake, or a trick."

Anna closed her eyes, as if doing so could shield her from the stupidity of the universe. "Incredible," she breathed, then said slowly, "We were only delayed by half an hour. Did your men even bother checking?"

"Uh...we will be out to meet you as soon as possible," Mr. Thompson smiled desperately.

"Glad to hear it." She snapped the screen off. She turned to find Todd looking at her curiously. Suddenly, Anna felt very ashamed, but she didn't know why. Without a word, she stalked toward the bus.

Todd just watched her go.

The site of the bio-dome, which had sheltered Eden Advance during their first year on the planet, was deep in the mountains, and Anna knew it was pure fortune that there was a town with an airfield relatively close by. Chamisa Trail, the only settlement anywhere close, was about 15 kilometers southeast of the site. Beyond that, they were in wilderness.

The drive out was cold and miserable. It was snowing, and the "bus" Anna had hired had turned out to be two open-topped double-length dunerails. But they got them safely, if slowly, over the terrain. Behind them chugged two bulldozers and one oddly-shaped vehicle with drilling equipment attached to both its front and rear. Everyone was packed tightly in the rails. They had had to stash some of their luggage in the digging vehicles.

One of Fulbright's students, who swore he knew what he was doing, was at the wheel of the lead dunerail. Beside him sat Fulbright. He had a map spread on his lap, a satellite tracker in his hand, and gigantic earmuffs over his head. He kept looking down at the map and then up at the terrain, back and forth, as if trying to match things together. He squinted the entire time, no matter what he was looking at.

Todd just sat huddled in his seat every moment, wrapped in covers. He almost looked ill.

After what seemed like eternity, Fulbright told the driver to stop. He got out and called, "This is the place! Everyone, set up some tents. Um...does anyone know how to make a fire?"

Todd just shrank further under his covers. Anna really couldn't blame him.

Six hours later, with the sun still an hour from setting, the tents were set up, two fireplaces were close together and warming everyone, and a general survey area had been staked out. Digging would start the next day.

The three drivers of the digging vehicles were getting to know the rest of them, and becoming interested in what they were actually doing out there. The drivers really became popular with the students when they pulled out their "party supplies." Anna declined when they told her it was homemade.

She had one more task to complete before the day was out, and Todd actually showed a little bit of interest when she stuck a large rod in the ground and started pressing buttons on its surface.

"What's this for?" he asked.
Anna looked up, surprised. "I thought you were playing Action Ace," she said.

He shrugged. "I am. It's really getting too easy. Next week, they're coming out with "Action Ace: Fists of Fire!" It's got five new levels, and it's got an option for you to hire soldiers to go with you and be under your command, and my friend Jesse said that sometimes, one of the soldiers turns out to be a Council agent, and can turn against you, and shoot you in the back!"

"Really?" Anna pretended to be interested. "Uh huh. I can't wait for it to come out! I wish it was out now. I've already memorized Action Ace. I can play it in my sleep. Dad said he's going to get it for me."

"He did, huh?" Anna said, trying to concentrate on what she was doing, listen to her son, and ignore the sudden mention of her ex-husband at the same time. "Well, I suppose your father knows what's best."

"Then why did you leave?"
Anna stopped, flinching hard. Damn him, she thought. But it was a fair question.

"Well, to be perfectly honest, he left me. Not that it makes much of a difference. Your father and I just don't get along any more."

In fact, she knew, the only thing she and Matt agreed on at all was that Todd was to be kept out of their disagreements. He would not be used as a weapon, or an informant, or a messenger. He was the only spot of neutral territory between them. Even so, he was still caught in the crossfire sometimes, despite their best efforts. What was the old saying? she thought, "When elephants fight, grass gets trampled?"

Todd just looked at his feet, kicking the snow briefly. Anna could tell he wasn't satisfied with her answer, but apparently he wasn't going to pursue it.

"What are you doing?" he asked again. "Well, this is a geoscan. It's similar to a geolock, but instead of locking up land, it simply scans it."

"What for?"
"For anything I tell it to."
"What are you telling it to?"
"I'm telling it to look for anything made of metal or plastic to a depth of nine meters. In the old, old days, you see, we'd be here for *years,* sifting up dirt one centimeter at a time. But if I can establish that there is nothing of interest in the top nine meters -- say, another recording chip, for example -- then we can bulldoze down to that depth in a couple of days without fear of damaging anything valuable. Pretty neat, huh?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. He turned and wandered back to their tent. Anna sadly watched him go. She'd arranged with Matt to keep him for an entire week, saying she wanted to use the opportunity to teach him something, thinking he would enjoy the dig. She now had to admit that her real reason for keeping him was because she didn't want to make another trip back to the airfield so soon after reaching the site, just to put him on a plane.

She wondered now if she had made the right decision. Sometimes, it was so hard to tell.

A few minutes later, she visited Fulbright in his tent, where he sat, still poring over a map. She placed the geoscan in front of him.

"Nothing," she said. "We're clear to dig nine meters deep throughout the entire zone."

"Great!" he beamed. "What time should we start?" Anna shrugged, suddenly tired of dealing with it all for the day. "Whenever we wake up. We're away from our offices, Fulbright. For once in our lives, lets just wing it without a schedule."

"Sounds good to me. Here," he pulled out a thermos. "Join me in a cup of hot chocolate?"

"Sure," Anna smiled. "My poison is usually Callion tea, but I haven't had hot chocolate in years!"

He poured, and they drank in silence for a few moments. It was too late to do any more work, too early to turn in, too freezing to do anything at all. The cold seeped into the tent, making everything uncomfortable. The entire world seemed stuck in a kind of twilight limbo. The sounds of the others' laughter, gathered around the fires, drifted in.

"You know," he finally said, "I wasn't entirely accurate when I said that money was the only reason I came to you yesterday."

"Oh?"
"It's well-known that you are a considerable authority on the Founding Fifteen," he said.

Anna shrugged. "They're my primary field of study. I don't know that I'm any more of an authority than other scholars."

"I think you are. So do a lot of others." "Really?" Anna was genuinely surprised and flattered. "Sure," Fulbright went on. "I mean, others know about them, too, certainly. But no archaeologist or historian *specializes* in a single area of study like you do. Most of us concentrate on alien archaeology, and finding more Terrian cities, rather than the *human* history on this planet, which is relatively new.

"Search any of our memories, or test our knowledge, and there are probably one or two facts each of us have yet to learn. But you know everything about them that has ever been discovered. Every paper, every finding -- you've got it memorized. No, Anna, you are the specialist in the Founding Fifteen, all right."

Anna sipped her hot chocolate, taking this in. She reached the bottom of the mug. She wished he would offer her another cup, but he didn't seem to notice, and she didn't want to ask. She also wondered where these compliments were coming from, and why he'd brought them up.

"What are you doing with the maps?" she asked. "Trying to trace their route to New Pacifica," he smiled. "Now that we know where the Winter Camp is, perhaps we can find the path they finally found through these mountains."

Anna looked over the maps with him, intrigued. "I believe Eben Singh died about one or two weeks after they left the Winter Camp," she said. "We have an old gear reading, about five seconds long, of the place where she was buried, but we've never been able to find it, or match it to any landscapes. It's odd, you know, because it features four distinct, tiny mesas."

"Have you tried satellite topography scans?" "Yes," she nodded, "but we can't get the money or the time to do a sweep of the entire range."

"Well, maybe now you can," he said. "Just scan the immediate area west of this site, in an expanding cone. You'll find it."

"Thanks," she smiled. "I hope so. I hope the earthquake which covered the Winter Camp didn't alter too many other things."

"Would you like another cup?"
"Yes, please."
He poured them both some more hot chocolate. "You know, it's so fascinating to me how much the Founding Fifteen survived," he said. "They discovered so much about this planet which was deadly, and they did it the hard way. But almost all of them survived to pass that knowledge on. One would expect a higher mortality rate in their situation, but they weathered every storm. Truly remarkable."

"Well, we're only talking about the Founding Fifteen," Anna said. "You're forgetting about the other evac pod from the *Roanoke,* none of whose members survived. When you factor them in, Eden Advance's mortality rate jumps to about 60 percent."

"Yes, but those people were killed by the Council back on the stations, not the planet," Roger pointed out. "So was Eben, and Commander O'Neill."

"True," Anna conceded, and took another sip. "It could have been, and should have been, the Founding Sixteen. Or the Founding Twenty. Or Thirty."

"The risks of being a pioneer."
"Mm." She took another sip.
"Tell me," Roger asked, "have you ever made any progress on discovering the circumstances of the colony ship's crash?"

She shook her head. "Nothing new in that area for about 30 years." "What about the tale that Dreamer brought to light a few years ago? Henderson, wasn't it?"

Anna was appalled. "You *believe* him? The tale that a space traveler from an advanced alien civilization helped down the colony ship? Honestly, I don't know where these myths come from."

Roger shrugged noncommittally. "It's a tale from the Terrian tribe near New Pacifica. The Terrians are usually pretty accurate about things like this."

"Rubbish," Anna scoffed.
Roger decided to switch to what he hoped would be a friendlier topic. "What's your position on the Heller Conspiracy Theory?"

"Also rubbish. There is no proof whatsoever that Julia Heller was a Council agent."

"Ah, but Dr. Ebman discovered an old journal entry made by Devon Adair several years ago-"

"I'm well aware of what Dr. Ebman discovered." "And it didn't change your mind?" Roger was amazed. "Why should it? He's basing his entire theory on five words in the middle of a sentence, handwritten by Devon Adair in a letter during a power blackout. 'Julia's ties to the Council,'" she quoted. "Could mean anything."

"But the word 'Council' was spelled with a capital 'C.'" "So what? She was probably referring to the Terrian Relations Council, of which Dr. Heller was a prominent member for most of her life. Honestly. One capital letter and the world goes bananas."

Roger shrugged again, realizing she had a point. "But what if we found evidence here, at this site, that Julia Heller was a Council agent?"

Anna hesitated, then shrugged. "I would accept it, of course. I'd have to." But she suddenly couldn't look at him.

"You really adore them, don't you?" he asked. She looked up. "What do you mean?"
"The Founding Fifteen. You adore them. You almost worship them." She shrugged again. "As I said, they're my primary field of study." "That's not an answer," he said.
Anna was amazed. She really hadn't credited Fulbright with much insight. She thought about it for a second. "Well, it's just as you said earlier. I'm fascinated with their trip across the continent. Their story is one of winning against incredible odds. By all rights, they shouldn't have survived two weeks on this planet, let alone the rest of their natural lives. But they did. They were beautiful. They were strong. They were..."

She searched for what she wanted to say. They were what? she thought. Everything she wasn't, and wished she could be?

"They're my heroes," she finally said. Then she gave an embarrassed smile and explained. "I often went to Adair Park as a child, just to look at their statues. They're carved in bronze, in the most exquisite detail! I'd look up at the face of Devon Adair, standing in the front, facing the ocean, with the wind blowing the hair back out of her face. And I used to imagine what it would be like to *be* her, or just to *meet* her! I would just sit for hours looking at them. Or I would wander in and out among them, touching them, and I wished that I could have been with them. Been a part of their world. I still do."

A small smile crossed Roger's face. "Well, to a certain extent, I suppose that's justified," he said. "But let me tell you something, Anna." He leaned forward. "They weren't superpeople."

"Oh, I know that!" Anna scoffed, suddenly loud and embarrassed. "Do you? Do you indeed?" Roger gazed at her, thinking. "I'm not so sure. We spend our lives uncovering the past, to find out who we are and where we came from. We try to find a bridge across time, to find a way to touch people who are long dead, people who shaped the world. You and I are news reporters, long after the news has come and gone. Nothing more.

"But it's possible for us to get so caught up in the past that we forget the present, and the future. We tend to build legends where none were, or latch on to ordinary, mundane events -- or people -- to find some kind of inspiration or meaning in life. We do this naturally, but we can sometimes take it too far.

"These heroes of yours -- you know who they were? They were ordinary, everyday people like you and me. They didn't have super powers, they didn't have gun fights, they didn't save the planet every week on a holovision show. They had arguments with each other. They fought with each other. They sometimes let each other down. Some of them had addictions, some of them panicked and hid in fear when the going got tough, sometimes they even *lied* to each other. They bitched, they whined, they moaned, they snapped at each other, they ate and drank and pissed just like everyone else.

"Those bronze statues in Adair Park are a myth. I'll guarantee you that they never once, in their entire journey, looked the way those statues are posing. Not *once.* And if you were to magically go back in time and be a part of their journey, I think you'd find it exciting for about one hour, until you got cold and hungry and miserable and frightened and sick of spirulina like the rest of them. And you probably would not get along with *half* of the Founding Fifteen.

"You can study them, and revere them, and remember them all you want, but eventually, there comes a point when you just have to *let them go."*

They stared at each other for a few seconds, then Anna took a deep breath. "I can tell that you're a philosopher as well as an archaeologist, Mr. Fulbright."

"The two go hand in hand."
"Well," she smiled diplomatically. "You've...certainly given me a lot to think about." She gently put the cup down and stood up. "Good night, Mr. Fulbright."

He nodded solemnly, aware he'd just gone too far. "Good night." Anna left.
As she made her way back to her tent, she saw that Todd was sitting with the students around the campfires, trying to laugh along with them. Thankfully, they were mindful of Todd's presence, and didn't let the humor or carousing get out of hand, and they were trying to include him in conversation.

She lay wearily on her sleeping bag and put on her gear set. Flipping around the eyepiece, she tried to watch some television before dozing off. She could have switched it to holovision, but she just didn't feel like it.

The first thing to hit her eye was an episode of Jeopardy 3000. An answer flashed to the screen in blue and white, while a voice read, "'One of the Founding Fifteen, he was the Deputy Secretary of Interstellar Development.' Alan?"

"Who was Alonzo Solace?"
"No. Mary?"
"Who was Morgan Martin?"
"Correct. You're in the lead."
"I'll take Terrians for $1,000, please, Alex." "That answer is today's Daily Double." While the audience applauded, Anna shook her head. Alonzo Solace, indeed. That was an easy one. What were kids coming to these days?

Abandoning Jeopardy 3000, she switched over to a news channel to see what was going on in the world she'd left behind. Connie Pride, the most famous newswoman on the planet, sat behind a desk and read the latest developments to the ears of the world.

"Representatives of the Miners Coalition met with government leaders today in New Pacifica in another attempt to repeal the laws banning geolocks. They cite the laws as outdated, and claim that they only exist because of one bad experience almost 200 years ago."

The scene cut to a man in a business suit talking to a reporter outside a building. The name at the bottom of the screen read "Joseph Alessandro."

The man said, "Because Devon Adair had *one* bad experience with a geolock -- an experience caused by someone with no training to use such a device -- she overreacted and made absolutely sure that laws banning geolocks were included in the New Pacifican Constitution. This was just an emotional reaction on her part, and was a decision completely devoid of any logic or reason. And because people are afraid to change the constitution, that bad decision is strangling the mining industry today, almost 200 years later."

Back in the studio, Connie continued the report. "Terrians and Dreamers alike showed up in New Pacifica to support the ban. They claim that geolocks upset the natural balance of the planet, and pose a major threat to Terrians and Dreamers, who could be killed if caught in a geolock. Mr. Alessandro denies this, saying that mining companies would employ Dreamers to ensure this would never happen."

The scene switched to a view of the shoreline, while Connie continued speaking. "Several boat-owners in New Pacifica have experienced rough trips on the water recently when they insist there should be none. They assert that one of the tidal wave suppressers in the bay has malfunctioned, causing slight tremors in the bay. But City Councilman Rod Andrews says that can't happen."

"We've got three wave suppressers out there in that bay," Rod Andrews was suddenly saying, "designed to send shock waves into the ocean and protect New Pacifica from impending tidal waves. If any of them were malfunctioning, first of all, we'd know about it because the fault would show up on our 24-hour monitoring station. And second of all, it wouldn't be sending out little tremors like people have been saying, it would be sending out Force 10 blasts, and that's not happening. Nor could it happen, because it's got five failsafes to keep it from happening."

The scene switched back to Connie in the studio. "Nevertheless, owners of large and small boats alike insist that choppy seas have sprung up suddenly in the bay for no discernible reason. The city has contracted Bolton Marine and Animal Research to look into the matter."

Connie's face got a little cheerier as she allowed just the hint of a smile. "In other news, *strong* rumors persist that a major archaeological find is in the works."

Anna sat bolt upright, her eyes wide, her heart racing. "There has been no confirmation as yet, but anonymous sources say that Anna LeClark, curator of the New Pacifica Historical Museum, is in the process of uncovering what could be the site of the legendary Winter Camp from year 1, one of the most sought-after pieces of information by historians around the planet.

"This rumor is made more intriguing by the fact that Ms. LeClark and most of her senior staff have disappeared and cannot be reached for comment.

"However, to gauge the incredible reaction that this rumor has caused, Justin Curtis is standing by with the founder of the Morgan Martin Appreciation Society, Ms. Mary Br-"

*"Fulbright!"* Anna threw off her head set and was out of the tent before it even reached the ground.

The people gathered around the campfires leaped up, looking around for danger. Fulbright dashed out of his tent. "What? What is it?" he asked.

"They know! They *know,* damn you! We haven't even been here for a full day, and they already know!"

*"Who?"* he gasped. "Who knows what? What are you talking about?" "The press! I just heard it on the news! The whole goddamned *planet* just heard it on the news!" She rounded on the students. "And I want to know which one of you talked!"

A sea of shocked faces stared back at her. "Come on!" she demanded. "Who talked?" "No one!" one of the young women protested. "None of us talked! Why would we?"

"Do the words 'financial reward' strike a bell with you?" Anna shot back. "Look, Anna," Fulbright said. "I don't know how this happened, but you can rest assured that none of us-"

"Rest assured, my ass! Someone talked!" *"Stop it!"* came the screech of a nine-year-old boy. "Stop it! Stop yelling at everyone! I'm the one who told!"

Anna looked down at her son. Tears were streaming down his face. Horrified, she sank to her knees in the snow. "You told? You? But who...why?"

"I called Jesse and told him I would be gone all week! I told him where I was going, and what we were doing! I told dad when I talked to him last night!"

"But why?" Anna asked.
"You didn't tell me it was a *secret!"* the boy wailed. Anna just stared at him, stunned. Hadn't she? She couldn't recall. No. No, she hadn't. She had never bothered to tell Todd that the expedition was a secret. It had never occurred to her.

She sank her head until it rested on his. The others were looking on, still stunned from the sudden outburst.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "You're right. I never told you. I never told, and I should have. It's all my fault."

The others looked around at each other, or their shoes, or the mountains in silence.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered again. "It wasn't your fault." Then she stood up, and breathed deeply. "I...deeply apologize for all that I just said. The fault was entirely, completely my own."

"Well, hey," one of the students said, trying to lighten the situation. "This isn't all bad. I mean, we can set up a zone to keep the reporters from walking where they're not supposed to, and the coverage could be kind of nice..." His voice trailed off. The others nodded to support his valiant attempt.

"He's right, Anna," Fulbright said. "This isn't the end of the world, and certainly isn't the end of the expedition."

"But what about thieves?" she asked. "Archaeological finds bring lots of money, and thievery is one of the biggest problems our field has faced, ever since it began. They'll be coming here in droves."

"Action Ace could fight them off!" Todd said hopefully. "We'll just have to tighten up security by ourselves," Richard suggested. "After all, that's what they did almost 200 years ago, here in this very spot."

"The Founding Fifteen didn't have a population to fight off -- or to draw upon for resources," Anna said, slowly taking charge of the situation once more. "I'm going to contact Howard, get two or three of his security staff out here by tomorrow evening, along with a perimeter monitor. I really should have brought them along, anyway."

"More plane trips, bus rides, and overtime pay for personnel?" Susan asked. Susan was Anna's financial advisor. "Anna, we really can't cut into the bicentennial budget any more, not even for something like this."

Anna slowly walked around the campfires, thinking. Everyone watched her. "Then lets bring the bicentennial here," she said. "What?" Richard asked. Again, Anna had stunned everyone. "Lets bring it here. This find has come along right before the bicentennial. That's too good of an coincidence to pass up. It'll never come again. Within six days, we can have the bio-dome uncovered and excavated. That's more than enough time to collect anything Eden Advance might have left behind. We can open it up to the public, let them walk through it. We can airlift the TransRover here from the museum! We can hold the celebration here! Since we've never found the crash site itself, it's the next best thing!"

Everyone else, even the three men hired for digging, looked at each other, thinking about the idea.

Fulbright watched her intently. "Anna," he finally said, "I am not on the Bicentennial Planning Committee. I have no say in where you hold it. But do you think the rest of your committee will accept this idea?"

"I can swing it," she said confidently. "And if they say no, then I can accept that. In the meantime, everyone, expect some camera crews here tomorrow morning. If this is as big a media event as I think it will be, maybe we can even have a ground-breaking ceremony or something."

Everyone was still standing, looking at her. "That's all," she said crisply. "Again, I'm sorry for my outburst earlier. Good night, everyone." She went back to her tent.

They each took a deep breath and sat back down. One of the bulldozer drivers leaned over to Todd and said, almost admiringly, "Hey, kid -- your mom's a pretty volatile woman!"

"Yeah," Todd stared deep into the embers of the fire. "I know."

End of Chapter 3

---

Heroes
by Douglas Neman

Chapter 3: The Journey Almost Stops

True to Anna's prediction, three different news crews and five freelance reporters were there by 10:00 the next morning. Still more were stranded back in Chamisa Trail, unable to find any means of transportation to reach the dig.

In the 200 years since the crash of the *Roanoke,* mankind had spread far across the planet -- far, but thin. Chamisa Trail was relatively close, but as Mr. Thompson had told Anna the day before, the next town beyond it was 275 kilometers away, and no one in Chamisa Trail owned a business capable of providing transportation into the mountains for such a large number of people.
Some of the reporters had simply walked into a local restaurant and asked if anyone with a big truck was willing to make a few extra credits by giving them a ride.

Anna found the reporters were all friendly and agreeable, so long as they got *something.* They understood very well the need to stay out of the excavation area, and were happy to do so, as long as everyone involved with the dig agreed to interviews, answered any questions, and they were all kept informed on the latest findings.

"I wish I'd known we were going to do this," Roger whispered to Anna. "I'd have brought my suit."

"You look fine," Anna lied. "We both do." In fact, they each looked like they'd been caught on laundry day. They stood in the middle of the site, with Todd between them holding a shovel. Standing behind them were Anna's three assistants, Fulbright's ten students, and the three drivers of the digging equipment, who were really having a ball and getting involved in the spirit of things. All three news crews were broadcasting live.

Justin Curtis was telling Connie Pride back in the studio, "The groundbreaking ceremony for the expedition will be performed by Todd LeClark, the nine-year-old son of expedition leader Anna LeClark. After that, the ground will be mildly heated to a depth of about six meters because it's frozen, at which point the bulldozers can move in and easily shove the soil aside. They expect to move about 50,000 tons of dirt before this dig is through."

"Justin," Connie asked for the ears of the world, "I notice that you're standing in a small mountain gap. Where do they expect to put all this dirt once they move it?"

There was a tiny pause while the satellite signal was relayed, with Justin listening to his headset, then he replied brightly, "That's right, Connie, I am standing in a gap. As you know, the bio-dome which Eden Advance found all those years ago saved them from their first winter. In order to protect them and the original owners from the weather so effectively, it had to be situated in a narrow gap between two large hills. Although this was ideal for shielding people from the weather, it doesn't make it easy to dig away the dirt which has since covered the area.

"I'm told that the dirt will be deposited at the far end of the gap. Actually, having to push the dirt up and out of the gap is the biggest time-consuming problem this expedition faces. In fact, the reason they only brought two bulldozers is because that's the most that could possibly fit through that narrow aperture, between the hills at the other end of this gap, which you can see behind me."

"All right, Justin, thank you," Connie said, and Justin nodded. "Justin Curtis, reporting live from the Winter Camp Dig. Stay with us, we'll have groundbreaking ceremony in just a moment." The scene in the studio switched to an overhead view of the entire operation, while slow, dignified music played for a second, and they cut to commercial.

"How long?" Justin asked his cameraman. "Two minutes."
One minute later, all three camera crews were back on and ready. When each of their cameramen had given the "go" signal, Anna nudged Todd and said, "Now, honey."

"Now?"
"Now."
Awkwardly, because it was twice as long as he was, Todd slid the shovel into the snow and scooped some up. He held it there.

"Now what?" he whispered.
"Toss it aside."
Todd turned the shovel and dropped the snow back to the ground. "Is that all?" he asked.

"Yep. That's it."
Everyone behind him clapped. The applause sounded tiny and hollow in the middle of the snow-covered mountains.

Justin shook his head with disbelief and made a slicing signal across his throat. "Cut it," he said.

Todd slid the shovel back into the snow. "Do you want me to do it again?" "No, honey, that was enough," Anna said.

The news crews spent the next few minutes displaying holographic images of the land, showing their viewers where the ground was, where the ground used to be, where the dome was, and how they planned to excavate it. The graphic was available in 3D for anyone who was watching on full laser, and they turned it this way and that, showing it to the viewer from every angle and in every detail. By the time they were finished, the first phase was ready to begin.

Once again, Anna slid the geoscan unit into the ground -- or rather, the snow, since the ground was actually a few feet down. She then jogged back to join the others, who were standing out of range. Justin Curtis informed his viewers what was happening.

"The first step is to get rid of all of the snow which covers the site. The geoscan Ms. LeClark has just inserted into the snow will raise the temperature in a pre-determined area by exciting the molecules, since that is basically what heat energy is. In the space of a few seconds, five metric tons of water will evaporate into the air, changing from ice to steam almost instantaneously.

"The water will remain in vaporous form for several moments, enough time for it to rise above the level of the mountains, be caught by the strong breeze blowing from the northeast, and carried away before it falls again as sleet.

"Because the boundary of the geoscan is precise, and the heating is instantaneous, all the snow lying outside the area will be unaffected. Since it is only three feet deep at most, hardly any of the snow on the hillsides will fall into the cleared area."

Anna joined the others back away from the boundary. She keyed a command on her gear set.

And the land exploded.
It was as if a volcanic eruption had just powered up through the earth like some medieval dragon. With a great *whoosh* that blew everyone off their feet and left the ears bleeding, every ounce of snow covering the excavation site blew up and out in a great cloud of vapor. Instead of drifting up like they had planned, it erupted in all directions, covering everyone with a fine, steaming mist.

Shaking, everyone stood up and brushed themselves off. Fog was now everywhere, and it was unbearably hot.

Coughing slightly, Justin Curtis turned back to the camera with all the dignity he could muster. "As you can see, the effects of five metric tons of snow suddenly turning to vapor -- and thus expanding to take up space -- were never fully realized until now. Kids, don't try this at home."

Only one person found any happiness from the experience. *"COOL!"* Todd shouted. "Do it again!" Lying on the ground, Anna sighed and looked up at Fulbright. "I'm never going to live this down," she said.

"That's all right. Now I'm glad I didn't wear my suit."

Several hours later, the fog had dissipated and all the remaining water (for that was what it had become) was cleared away by evaporating it more slowly. Anna again used the geoscan to warm the ground to a depth of six meters. The ground cracked and split, looking like sun-caked mud in the desert, but that was all. When it was sufficiently broken up, the first bulldozer moved into position.

The sun was shining, everyone was smiling again, the morning's embarrassment almost forgotten (although it would be replayed on the evening news every night for the next week). With the camera crews recording everything for posterity, the bulldozer driver reached the edge of the zone, lowered the massive shovel, and a group of Terrians rose up out of the ground just as it touched, energy crackling all over their staffs.

Everyone froze.
Terrified, the bulldozer driver madly scrambled from the cab and tore back away from the angry natives as fast as he could.

The news crews moved in, spellbound. "Wait!" Anna shouted, running down the hillside. Todd ran after her, but Fulbright pulled him back. "You stay here!" he told him, then ran after Anna.

The three Dreamers from Fulbright's students stepped forward as Anna and Fulbright ran up. Everyone else watched from a distance.

The news crews got as close as they dared. "I want sound!" Justin Curtis snapped at his crew. Microphones were enhanced and focused to catch conversation.

One of the Dreamers, Carl, turned back to Anna and Roger. "They're just worried," he said. "They don't know what we're doing."

Anna stared in apprehension -- and fascination -- at the 14 Terrians arrayed in front of them. They were gurgling and trilling. Energy still crackled on their staffs. She approached the one who seemed to be in the lead, even though she knew that no Terrian ever led another -- they all thought with one mind. But she was a human, and she needed to talk to just one.

"We are not here to harm your land," she said. "We-" Another Dreamer trilled softly, and the Terrians looked at him. Anna realized he was translating. Foolishly, she had thought the Terrian could understand her. She backed away somewhat, allowing the Dreamer to carry her words.

"They say we have an agreement, and that agreement is being broken," Carl said. "No humans were ever to harm this land again."

"Again?" Anna was puzzled. "What are they talking about?" "They say we made a promise that no one would ever dig here. This tribe seems to think we're mining something, or trying to take something."

Anna sighed. "They must be thinking of the geolock Morgan Martin set off. Please tell them we are simply trying to find out about our past. Humans used to live here many, many years ago. We are trying to find out more about them."

"They wonder why we care so much about the past," Carl replied after a moment. "It's very different for a Terrian, you see. To a Terrian, time flows differently. Past, present and future is a place, a balance. They don't understand the concept of archaeology. They lack any curiosity about such things."

"Then why did they bring the recording chip to the surface?" Anna asked desperately.

"What?"
"The entire reason we know where to find the winter camp is because a Grendler hunter found a 200-year-old recording chip on the ground, right here," Anna said. "The only way that recording chip could have been on top of the ground instead of underneath it, with the rest of the bio-dome, is if the Terrians brought it up and left it here."

As the Carl dreamed, Anna stepped forward and tentatively held up the recording chip for the Terrians to see. They stared at it curiously, but the energy on their staffs never wavered.

"They say humans left that object in their home, somewhere nearby, accidentally," Carl explained. "From what they're saying, I think one of the Founding Fifteen dropped it while he or she was in their tunnels. Probably Yale, since he's the one who used to own the chip. The Terrians found it, and knowing it belonged to Eden Advance, they brought it back here and left it here, thinking the humans would find it."

"What? Why? And when?"
After a few more seconds, Carl replied, "They found it several years ago, hidden behind some rocks in their caves. They brought it back here because they knew of this place as the home to the humans. They still think of Eden Advance as people who live here, or perhaps will someday live here again. They don't grasp the concept of 'ownership' very well. They were just trying to give the chip back the only way they knew how."

"Tell them the humans who used to live here are now dead, and we found the chip, just like they wanted, and we have returned to collect more of our belongings."

After a moment, Carl shook his head. "They're very resistant. They say that if the humans are now dead, what are we doing here? They know the rest of you think with many different minds. We are not the same humans who once gave the promise, and they don't trust the rest of you. Something about the news crews, and the number of people we have gathered here. It's all making them nervous. They want us to leave."

The energy crackled on their staffs a little more viciously. "And they mean, 'Now.'"
"Wait," Anna held up her hands. "Please! You've got to give us a chance." She spoke to the Terrians directly. "This- this promise you're talking about. I know the woman who made it. Her name was Devon Adair. She had dark hair and stood about this tall." Anna held her hand in the air, giving the Terrians a height they could see. "She spoke to you on behalf of the humans. She pleaded for the life of another, whom you almost executed -- I mean, sent into the earth! She made a promise that the land would never be harmed again, and that no one would ever return to steal your sunstones. I know she did. We are not the same humans, but we are very similar, and we have the same honor. Please. We are not here to break any promises. We know about the pact with the Terrians. We will not betray it. You have my word."

All three of the Dreamers behind her bowed their heads and spoke with the Terrians. After a few seconds, the energy crackling about their staffs quieted, and the Terrians lowered them to the ground.

Carl again spoke with Anna. "They believe what you say, but they still wonder what we are doing here."

"Tell them it would be impossible to explain in Terrian terms, but politely reassure them that Terrians do not know everything. Just because they don't understand what we're doing, doesn't mean we're doing something bad. Ask them for their trust."

Carl did. "They still want an explanation," he said. Anna nodded, and gave it her best shot. "We are interested in the past, and wish to see for ourselves the home of Eden Advance, of the promise-makers. We humans have a need to somehow reach back and connect with people who came before us. And seeing objects they once used, and visiting places where they once lived, helps us to do that. That is why we are here."

After a few more seconds of dreaming, the Carl said, "They understand, to a limited extent. But they warn us not to mine any of their stones or harm the land. If we start digging outside our own boundary, they will be angry."

"Tell them we understand and agree, and we are very grateful," Anna said. Carl did so. The Terrians nodded and sank back into the earth. Every single person witnessing the confrontation breathed a huge sigh of relief.

After a moment, the news crews rushed forward, clambering for interviews. "Ms. LeClark, what were you feeling when you faced down the Terrians?" "Ms. LeClark, do you think they will return?" "Ms. LeClark, how does this development affect the expedition?"

She pushed past them all. "Leave me alone!" she thundered. "I need some time to myself."

Roger turned to the news crews and began talking, blocking their progress and covering Anna's retreat. Behind him, she reached her tent and ducked inside, shaking.

"The Terrians were obviously very worried about land exploitation," Roger said. "I believe we have reached an agreement with them, and allayed their fears. I do not anticipate any further disputes with the Terrians. In fact, I do not believe we will have any more visits from them at all."

In her tent, Anna could hear Roger talking to the press, answering their questions. She barely listened to what they were saying. She simply sat on the ground, hugging her knees to herself, shaking uncontrollably. All she could think of was the enormous power she'd just faced -- standing nose to chest with a Terrian who was ready to blast her at any second. She could still hear the crackling of the staff, see the anger and accusation in his eyes. She'd never faced an angry Terrian before.

Good *God,* they were frightening!
She prayed to whomever might be listening not to let anyone follow her into the tent.

It wasn't just the Terrians, it was everything. It was Matt, happy with Dana, sticking her with Todd, who loved Action Ace more than he loved her, and if it wasn't for him -- and *all* of them -- none of the zoo going on out there would be happening! It was Fulbright preaching to her. It was the Thompson Construction Co. in Chamisa Trail thinking her expedition was a prank and leaving the airport. It was the money, and the responsibility she had taken upon herself to lead them all out there. It was the press, watching her with unblinking eyes, showing her mistakes to the entire world, making her naked, helpless, vulnerable. And on top of it all, a group of Terrians -- a race she had admired and respected her entire life -- had physically threatened her, and accused her of being untrustworthy.

It doesn't matter, she thought, holding herself more tightly. It doesn't matter what I do or how hard I try, there's always someone in my face, always someone there to ruin it all, always someone who thinks I'm not giving enough, always someone out to stop me, always always always! How many hoops do I have to jump through? she thought. *How many?*

The frustration which had been building for months finally rose too high, spurred on by the terror she had just faced. It overran the dam she had built up inside herself and became self-pity, despite her efforts to stop it. Slowly, imperceptibly at first, she began to cry.

She didn't stop for a long, long time.

It was several hours before Anna again ventured from her tent. She'd had a good cry, and was mostly past the shock of what had happened, and was feeling more like herself. Other than Susan making sure she was all right, no one mentioned her absence during the previous couple of hours. They knew she'd needed some time alone after what had happened. The digging had started under Roger's supervision, and was progressing smoothly.

She found that Howard and three of his security guards had arrived during the previous hour, and were setting up the perimeter monitor. Howard's presence reminded her that she was now very strapped for money.

It was time to talk to the committee. Anna and her three assistants linked up in Anna's tent and called the first of several members of the Bicentennial Planning Committee, who were overjoyed at finally hearing from her. Evidently, she was now the hottest news story on the planet. To Anna's own disbelief, she was even hotter news than the famous athlete who had been put on trial for the murder of his ex-wife a couple of years before. She could scarcely believe she was drawing more attention than that media circus.

"We saw you face all those Terrians, dear," Mrs. Bowen was saying. "We heard every word. Very, very well done!"

"Thanks," Anna smiled weakly. "But it's a bit daunting to have my actions and words broadcast so everyone can see. It gives you the oddest feeling."

"Nonsense, dearie!" Mrs. Carpenter jumped in. "Just go with it! It's great stuff!"

"Well, I suppose you're all wondering why I called this meeting," Anna said. "Yes, do tell us how it's coming along!" Mrs. Downing said, clapping her hands together.

"Well, we've dug several meters into the ground. We're forming a ramp to reach the door of the main dome. That's our top priority."

"Oh, it must be so exciting!" Mrs. Edgeworth giggled. "Would you mind if we all came out to have a look! We're dying to!"

Anna opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off. "Actually," Mrs. Farmington said, "that brings up something we all wanted to put to you. We were wondering, Anna dear, if we could..." Mrs. Farmington fidgeted nervously, then continued, "well, if we could move the Bicentennial Celebrations to the site of the bio-dome. I mean -- if you didn't want to that would be perfectly all right!"

Anna's mouth dropped open in astonishment as she faced the five women, each staring at her hopefully.

Off camera, Richard, Susan and Daniel grinned wickedly at each other and gave each other the secret handshake.

Anna didn't see them. She just laughed in amazement, and said, "Ladies, that sounds like a *wonderful* idea!"

"Oh, fantastic!" they all clapped and cheered. "We'll make preparations straight away!"

"I'll need money to cover the expense," Anna said. "I was hoping we could airlift the TransRover here from the museum, along with a few other artifacts. Would this be all right?"

"Of course it will!" Mrs. Bowen said. "After the Bicentennial is over, we could keep the bio-dome open as a permanent extension of the museum! The money we charge for admission will pay for itself, in time!"

Anna nodded. She hadn't thought of that. "That's a great idea, Mrs. Bowen." Mrs. Bowen looked sufficiently modest and smiled. "Why, thank you dear."

Anna joined Fulbright, who was standing on the edge of the excavation, checking the progress of the dig with the scanner on his datapad. He looked up at her briefly as she joined him.

"Well, they went for it," Anna said. "The committee wants to use the winter camp as the site of the Bicentennial Celebrations."

"Congratulations," he said.
"Thanks," Anna nodded. "How's it going?" "Fairly well," he said.
There was silence between them for a second. Then Fulbright swung his datapad under his arm and pursed his lips, looking over the site. He finally said, "I want to apologize for some of the things I said last night."

"Why?" Anna asked.
He shrugged. "Not my place to tell you how to run your life. I got up on a soapbox, and began lecturing. It comes easily because I do it for a living. But that's no excuse. I was really preachy last night, and I apologize."

"Well," Anna said, "I would accept your apology, except for one tiny detail."

"What's that?"
"You were right." She also looked out over the dig, and she spoke more quietly. But even over the noise of the bulldozers, Roger still heard her. "I was frightened today. I know the Terrians won't actually kill people, except in self-defense, but when that Terrian was standing over me with his charged staff, I felt like I was looking death in the face. I really thought he was going to strike."

"Then why didn't you run?"
"I don't know." She shook her head. "It just didn't occur to me. I can't explain why, but I had to stay. After it was over, I realized I'd spent my entire life chasing the past. It all flashed before my eyes, and...and I didn't like what I saw."

Roger smiled. "You're a brave woman, Anna. You've got a lot of good in you." He hesitated, unsure of whether he should proceed, then simply said, "I wish you'd let it show more often."

Anna smiled slightly, not sure how to respond to that. "I don't think I'm brave at all," she said. She didn't mean to sound so embarrassed.

"Then what was it that made you stay to work it out with the Terrians?" "I don't know," she sighed. "Maybe I was just doing what my heroes would have done." She looked at him for the first time, and they both smiled briefly.

"I'll be leaving tomorrow for a little while," Anna said. "I'm taking Todd up to see the springhole, since we're so close to it."

He nodded. "That would be fine. We'll manage here." One of the Dreamers approached them both. It was Carl, the same one who had helped Anna communicate with the Terrians earlier.

He said, "The Terrians say that we are all in danger." "What?" Anna asked, her heart suddenly racing again. She and Fulbright were both stunned.

"You misunderstand," Carl continued. "We are not in danger from them, but from the land. They feel the earth moving again. It covered the bio-dome once. They say it will cover it again."

"Again?" Anna asked. "Just after we've arrived? Isn't that too much of a coincidence?"

Carl gave her a peculiar look, as if Anna had just said something mildly insulting. "Sometimes," he said, "the earth covers its own dead."

He turned and walked away, leaving both archaeologists staring after him quizzically.

"Now what was that all about?" Anna asked. "No idea," Roger shrugged. "But I've got no reason to disbelieve him." "Well, what does he expect us to do? Leave, because the Terrians felt a few tremors? I'm not abandoning this expedition. Not after coming so far!"

"No, nor am I," Roger agreed, thinking carefully. "But I've never known Terrians or Dreamers to joke about such things. It's not in their capacity. I'll pass the word around for everyone to be careful. I think it would be a good idea to move camp to higher ground, and limit the number of people inside the excavation area at any given time."

Anna nodded. "That sounds like a good idea. Thanks." She left him standing there and went in search of her son. She found him sitting in one of the dunerails beyond camp, talking to someone on his gear set.

"And then mom punched the button, and *BOOM!"* Todd shouted with glee. "Snow went everywhere!"

She shook her head. Todd had said "mom," instead of "my mom." That meant he could only be talking to one person.

Todd paused a moment, listening to the person on the other end, then said, "Yeah, she's right here. Do you want to talk to her?" He paused again, then took off his gear set. He held it out.

"It's dad. He wants to talk to you." She put the gear set on. "Hello, Matt." "Hi," he said. There was something in his voice which was different, but Anna couldn't quite place it. "I heard you've had quite a day so far."

"Yeah, it's pretty exciting. It's not every day you're almost responsible for starting a war between two species."

"That's not what I saw," Matt said. Anna sighed. What had she done to spark an argument this time? "What do you mean by that?" she asked wearily.

"We saw it on the news. Everyone did, the whole thing. Anna, you were brilliant. Anyone else would have run away or folded, but you stepped up to those Terrians and found a solution, in a way I've never seen before. And for a moment, well...I thought you were in danger."

It was then that Anna realized what was different about Matt. For the first time in many a long year, she was hearing respect in his voice. Respect, and concern for her safety.

She'd forgotten what those feelings sounded like. "Well...thank you, Matthew." Matthew! Now how long was it since she'd called him by his full name? It had once been a sign of affection between them. "I just reacted without thinking. You know me!"

"Yeah, I do," Matt said. "But you still surprise me." "Well," Anna said, swallowing hard with emotion she hadn't been prepared to feel. "How's your vacation so far?"

"Not as exciting as yours. We're relaxing in the sunshine a lot, not digging around in the snow. Todd says you're going up to the springhole tomorrow."

"Yeah, we are."
"That's good. It'll be a great experience for him. I hope you have a lot of fun." He sounded like he meant it. "And...take care out there, okay?"

"Thanks," Anna said. "I'm sure we will. You enjoy the rest of your vacation."

"I'll do that. See ya."
They signed off.
She looked at Todd, who was looking at her sadly. Suddenly, she wanted to cry again.

Instead, she asked, "Ready for the big trip tomorrow?" He shrugged idly, and this irritated her somewhat. "It really will be fun, you know. You don't have to be so down about it." She smiled at him encouragingly, remembering what Roger had told her just a few minutes before about letting it show. "We'll have a great time. I promise."

To her amazement, her smile sparked one on her son's face. Smiles really were infectious, she realized.

"Okay," he said, somewhat cheered up. He hopped off the dunerail. Anna took his hand, and they started walking back to the dig.

"I ordered a pizza from Chamisa Trail," Todd spoke up. "And I charged it to you. I hope you don't mind."

"No," she laughed, "I don't mind. What'd you get?" "Everything."
"You know, you're one of the few children I know who actually likes vegetables?" she asked him.

"Only if they're on a pizza," he said. Their timing was good, for as soon as they came back to the excavation site, a Dreamer rose up out of the ground, carrying a pizza bag and two sodas.

"Crud!" Todd exclaimed. "I was hoping he'd be late, because then it would have been free! But ever since pizza places hired Dreamers, they're never late! And they never get lost."

Anna paid him. The Dreamer scowled at the tip, then sank back into the earth.

"Typical," said a voice behind Anna. She turned to find one of the reporters munching on a sandwich. She carefully noted that he was eating food which he had brought himself -- she had neither the budget nor the food supply to feed the reporters as well as her own expedition.

"What's typical?" she asked.
"That is," the reporter motioned to where the Dreamer had been. "Because Dreamers can travel through the earth, they take jobs which should belong to everyone. Pretty soon, some employers are going to be hiring *only* Dreamers. Just because one kid doesn't have earth-traveling abilities, he can't get a job which will go to someone else. You mark my words, that's what the world's coming to."

"Dreamers have special skills," Anna countered, wondering why she was allowing herself to get caught up in this silly argument. "They're the obvious choices for certain kinds of construction work and rescue operations. Not to mention the fact that there have been times when they have single-handedly kept humans and Terrians from destroying each other. Every major conflict between our two species in the last 200 years has been resolved because of the links between us."

"Yeah? Well, you tell that to my son, who just lost his job to a Dreamer who's a lot less qualified than he is!" The reporter stalked off.

Anna watched him go with amazement, wondering why she'd just become someone else's punching bag. Todd watched him go, too.

"People are stupid," he said.
"No, they're not," Anna quickly admonished him. "He did have a point. And every single one of us does stupid things at one time or another." She smiled and tweaked his nose. "Trust me, kiddo."

"Oh, I do," he said.

End of Chapter 3

---

Heroes
by Douglas Neman

Chapter 4: The Journey is Born Anew

Anna drove the dunerail due east until she came upon the main road which stretched from Chamisa Trail to the springhole. She swung onto the road and drove north at a steady pace. The road wasn't paved, but it was a smooth enough track. There were a few other vehicles along it, full of people heading to the springhole to camp out for a few weeks, in the hopes of seeing the big event. It could happen at any time. Todd sat beside her, lost in his Action Ace game. She told him to put it away as they approached.

As far as anyone could tell, there was no other springhole on the planet. Consequently, it had been designated as the first world park by the World Parks and Wildlife Service. That meant there was no hunting, no littering (although littering was illegal everywhere anyway), there were campgrounds available, and Anna had to pay to get through the gate. The guard handed her a parking pass and a brochure. Anna handed the brochure to Todd and asked him to read it out loud as she parked the rail.

Todd read:

The Springhole

The springhole, first discovered by Eden Advance during their historic trek across the continent in 1-2 AC, remains one of the most mystifying and beautiful wonders of our world. At the end of every winter, flowers called "Springbringers" bloom, some 50 km to the south. Any creature breathing the pollen of this plant is driven by unknown psychological forces to deliver the pollen to the springhole, even at the cost of its own life.

Once delivered, a miraculous reaction takes place, spewing gases high into the atmosphere from deep within the planet. These gases quickly shoot to a height of 3 km and form a thick, green cloud cover, which traps the sunlight in a greenhouse effect. Within three days, this greenhouse effect will have spread across the planet, and thus spring is born anew.

Scientists have long wondered what mysteries lie within the springhole. But the springhole's exact properties are unknown, and may remain so forever. All attempts to examine the springhole have been aggressively denied by the Terrians, who refuse to allow any person or machine inside it. It has been suggested by some that the Terrians act as antibodies in a living world, and see any attempt to enter the springhole as an invasion. All formal requests to the Terrian people for allowance into the springhole has met with denial, and no Dreamer will ever speak of it.

Whatever secrets the Terrians guard about the springhole have to be respected. However, they do not mind if people gather outside it and watch, as long as no one actively tries to explore inside it. The WPWS respectively ask that all spectators obey the posted signs so that everyone may safely enjoy the event.

For thousands of years, it is estimated that ten to twelve creatures every year died while trying to make it to the springhole. Even those that succeeded perished, compelled to jump in and deliver the pollen. Many people have found it ironic that the world we live in asks for living beings to sacrifice themselves, against their will, in order for the entire world to live again. Many poets, philosophers, scholars and theologians have debated this issue at great length.

Concerned for the safety of all living creatures, and finding it unnecessary for them to die, the first act of the WPWS when it was formed in 12 AC was to find a way to help all those infected with pollen to survive the event. To that end, volunteer patrols scout the wilderness to the south, keeping watch on known Springbringer locations. Any creature which is infected with pollen is captured, if possible, and driven north so it will not kill itself in physical exertion. It is then allowed to jump into the springhole, which has a safety net stretched across the top so that the creature will not fall to its death.

The WPWS would like to remind everyone that if a Grendler is infected with the pollen, it will be confused and frightened after dispersing it into the springhole because it will feel threatened by suddenly finding itself surrounded by people. It therefore may become violent. We ask that everyone stay well clear of any such Grendlers, and allow the park staff to help it out of the net and back to its home.

Throughout history, only five humans have ever been accidentally infected by the pollen of a Springbringer. The first three, of course, were John Danziger and Morgan and Bess Martin, of the Founding Fifteen. The other two were a couple of men on a hiking trip in 57 AC, John Alcorn and Harvey Samson, who inhaled the pollen when they dared each other to do so, and it almost cost them their lives.

In years past, in their quest for knowledge, several scientists have willingly inhaled the pollen themselves and carried it to the springhole. This practice was outlawed several years ago as being unsafe. Everyone who has ever carried the pollen has reported feelings of invulnerability, followed by amnesia once the pollen was gone.

When a pollen-carrier is sighted, it will either be driven in, or, if it is too close already, allowed to run in freely. The bleachers are located on the north side of the springhole, to allow a clear path for any pollen-carriers coming from the south.

We regret to say that every year, some individuals think it is amusing to play a practical joke and come running into the park, acting as if they are carrying pollen, and throwing themselves onto the net covering the springhole.

The WPWS would like to remind everyone that such pranks can be lethal, and the park staff do not take them lightly. Anyone pretending to be carrying pollen will be fined a mandatory 1,000 credits.

The World Parks and Wildlife Service hopes you enjoy your stay, whether you are here for the day or for a month. All proceeds from this park go towards helping to keep our world clean and beautiful.

By the time Todd was finished reading, Anna had found a place to park. They got out and looked around. A few people were scattered in small groups in the bleachers, chatting. The campgrounds were almost full. Others were walking the surrounding land, taking in the fresh air and sunshine. Anna thought this was a wonderful idea and wanted to do the same. Todd didn't.

'I want to finish my game!" he said. "I'm almost done! I've got the Warlord down to 50 hit points!"

"You play that game all the time," Anna said. "But we hardly ever get to spend time with each other. Now come on. Put the game away come walk with me."

Todd only scowled a little. He laid the game on the seat and slid out of the rail.

Anna hoped he wasn't going to be like this all day, but she had a feeling he would be.

Then she heard an excited voice behind her. "Excuse me!" Anna turned. "Yes?"
A couple of girls, about 16 or 17 years old, were facing her, almost giggling. One of them held out a pen and two small pieces of paper, ripped out of a notebook.

"Could we have your autograph?" the first one asked. They were both grinning wildly, almost beside themselves with glee.

"Beg pardon?" Anna asked.
"You're Anna LeClark, right?"
"Yes."
"Well, we were wondering if we could have your autograph! Both of us! We're your biggest fans!"

Anna was stunned. "Well...uh...uh, sure. Sure, I guess." She awkwardly took the paper and pen from the girl, trying not to notice that Todd looked highly amused. No doubt Matt would hear about this before the day was out.

As she signed her name, the second girl piped up, "You're the first person we've ever asked for an autograph."

"Yeah, we don't do this all the time!" the first girl said. "That's all right," Anna smiled. "You're the first person who's ever asked me for an autograph, so I guess that makes us even."

"The first ones? Really?" They almost began hopping up and down. "We're so excited!"

"I have to ask," Anna said carefully, handing back the pen and paper, "what have I done to deserve all this adoration?"

"What have you done?" the first girl was amazed. "You're in charge of excavating the bio-dome, and everyone saw how you faced down the Terrians yesterday!"

"Yeah, that was pretty tough!" the second girl spoke up. "You kicked ass!" "I what?" Anna asked, then shook her head. "No. No, I didn't, I resolved a potentially damaging situation, that's all. I didn't 'kick' anything."

"That's not what it looked like to us!" the first girl said. "Thank you! Thank you so much!" They turned and ran off. As they did, the first one turned back and shouted, "You're my hero!" Then they took off, laughing.

Anna just stared after them in wonder. "I am?" she whispered. Todd tugged on her jacket. "Hey, mom? Can I have your autograph, too?" Anna plopped back down into the dunerail seat in a daze. "That's not funny, Todd."

"I'm serious. I could probably sell your autograph to some friends of mine and make some money. Maybe I could even trade one for a brand new Action Ace: Fists of Fire game, and dad wouldn't have to buy it!"

Anna felt the world spinning. She wanted to throw up, or cry. "Todd, if I hear you mention Action Ace one more time today, I'm taking your game and throwing it away, do you understand?"

"But all I said was-"
*"Do you understand?"*
Todd was silent for a few seconds. Then he mumbled, "Yes, ma'am." Anna took a deep breath. It felt so good, she did it again. Then, as politely as possible, she said, "Todd, I didn't bring us up here today to fight. I don't want to do this. I just wish you'd spend a little more time with me and less with your head stuck inside that stupid game where you practice killing people. It's disgusting."

Todd numbly fingered a spot on the dunerail's side. He couldn't face her. "Action Ace never left me," he said quietly. Then he glanced up at her.

Anna felt like she'd been slapped. She put her hand to her mouth and turned her head away to hide the tears which sprang to her eyes. Around her, she could clearly hear all the laughter and fun that the people in the park were having, mercifully oblivious of her. A family with a picnic basket walked past her dunerail on their way to the campground, talking and laughing. She listened to them come and go.

Many seconds passed, and neither of them said a word. Finally, Anna spoke. "Well, I'm sorry," she choked out. "Really I am. And I'm trying to make it up to you. But you need to give me a chance. I'm only human. Todd, I can't compete with VR super graphics and surround sound. I just can't. And Action Ace can't do this, either." And before she knew what she was doing, she reached out and pulled him close and gave him a hug.

He was so surprised, he didn't pull away. They stayed like that for many moments, oblivious of the world around them. Spring could have come and gone, and neither would have noticed.

They finally let go of each other. Todd was crying openly. To her shame, Anna couldn't remember the last time she'd hugged him. She resolved never to forget again.

"Come on," she said, wiping away her tears. "Lets take a walk." They walked away from the Springhole and into the surrounding woods. The air was crisp and cool. They walked among the trees, and talked of anything and everything that came to mind.

"I thought it was funny the way those two girls wanted your autograph," Todd said, kicking a few leaves as he walked. He was freely wandering in and out among the trees. Anna just followed him, letting him walk wherever he wanted.

"I could tell," she smiled. "But I didn't like it all that much. I think they were very mistaken about what happened, and what's important."

"How come?"
"They seemed to think I had defeated the Terrians. I did no such thing. There was a misunderstanding due to the differences in our cultures, and they were frightened. I gained their trust, and then they weren't frightened any more. And that's all."

Todd stopped and looked at her. "Does that mean you're not a hero like they said you were?"

Anna went up to her son and bent down on one knee, resting casually on the ground in front of him. Thinking carefully, she asked, "Todd, what do you think a hero is?"

Todd shrugged. "I don't know."
"You don't? I'll bet you do."
"Why? Does this have anything to do with what you and Mr. Fulbright were talking about the other night?"

"You know about that?" Anna asked.
"Well, two nights ago, I wanted to ask you something, but you were talking with Mr. Fulbright in his tent. I didn't go in, because you sounded like you were talking about serious things. He was talking about heroes."

"Yes," Anna sighed. "Yes, he was. We both were. Now think -- I'm sure you have an answer somewhere. What do you think a hero is?"

"A hero...is somebody who beats up the bad guys." "What else?"
"What else is there?"
Anna smiled. She should have expected that. "Well, what if there aren't any bad guys around?" Todd shrugged. "I don't know."
"In my experience, there aren't that many bad guys in the world," Anna explained. "There are a few, and we do need to watch out for them. But more often than not, the badness we find is usually within ourselves, not another person.

"A hero is someone who is brave. Being brave sometimes means standing up for something you believe in, not just defending yourself. Sometimes, being a hero means being scared. Being a hero means doing what you have to do instead of what you want to do. Sometimes it means getting up in the morning when you don't feel like it. It means taking care of the people you love...and sometimes letting them go. It means doing what's right for yourself, without any audience to ever see you do it and applaud you for doing it. It means finding something to believe in, when you really don't have anything to go on. It means giving life everything you've got, with no guarantee you'll get anything back, yet somehow still knowing that you will if you try. It means letting go of old ideas and beliefs that don't work any more. It means appreciating others, and not hogging the spotlight. It means doing your homework, brushing your teeth, taking care of your children, balancing your checkbook, and taking out the garbage. Sometimes...it means forgiving, and forgetting."

Todd thought about what she was saying. Anna watched him, wondering if he'd caught any of it, wondering if he was old enough.

"That would be a boring VR game," he said at last. Anna laughed out loud. "Yes! Yes, I suppose it would." "So a hero is all those things?" Todd asked. Anna nodded. "And more. Being a hero can mean beating up the bad guys, but that's almost never the case."

Todd looked up suddenly. "So, all those people who were here 200 years ago, Eden Advance -- they were heroes after all, weren't they?"

Anna looked at him in wonder. "Yeah," she said. Her eyes watered a little, despite herself. "Yeah they were. Every last one of them."

She stood up. "Come on. Lets go sit in the stands for a while. Maybe we'll be lucky and spring will start today."

"Can we get some cotton candy?"
"I'll split one with you. I don't want you gorging yourself, because it's almost time for lunch."

"Okay."
They walked back to the bleachers. Anna bought a small cotton candy and two waters, and they sat down to rest for a while. The springhole lay in front of them, a net stretched across the chasm. Several of the park employees stood idly between the stands and the springhole, chatting with each other.

"Mom, can we go look down into the springhole?" "I doubt they'd let us, but why don't you go ask?" "Here." Todd handed her the cotton candy and ran down the empty seats towards the park staff.

"Walk carefully down the steps!" Anna called sharply. "You'll break your neck hopping down the seats like that!"

Without looking back, Todd shifted course and ran down the steps. Anna sighed.

"They think they're indestructible at that age." She turned around. Behind her and a little to the right was an elderly man in a flannel shirt and a cap. He had a gear set held up to one ear with his hand, but he wasn't really listening to it.

"Tell me about it," Anna smiled. "But I'm more worried about his psyche." "His what?"
"His psyche," Anna repeated. "You know -- his state of mind. He plays VR games and watches programs which are full of violence and action, and he thinks it's great. His father lets him. I don't know what to make of it."

"Kids will be kids."
"Oh, it can't be as simple as that." "Sure it can," the man replied. He lowered the gear set and stared up into the sky briefly. "When I was a boy, I used to read this series of books, they called 'The Dynamic Dreamers.' You ever hear of 'em?"

Anna shook her head.
"Well, they was a little before your time. Anyway, the whole series was about this group of kids, some of them Dreamers, some of them aren't. But they're all friends. And they had to put up with prejudice, with people who were biased against Dreamers, and against Terrians. And like, every month, they had a mystery to solve. And there would be action and danger and thrills galore. Daring escapes, and quests for lost treasures! I loved it! It made my heart jump so!"

"But that's an adventure series for children." "Yeah? And?"
"And..." Anna couldn't think of what to say. "You see," the man went on, "I got this theory. In real life, most people don't like violence, and killing people's a bad thing. A real bad thing. And anyone who thinks otherwise ought to check themselves into the loony bin right away.

"But we're human beings, and whether we like it or not, there's a part of us that likes an adrenaline rush. There's an animal side to our nature. Not everyone has it, but most of us do. We have to find an escape for that. So we make ourselves safe ways to experience adrenaline, and the thrill of life and death. We watch football, and really enjoy it when someone gets their clock cleaned -- as long as the other guy helps him up afterward. We get VR programs where people shoot each other in action/adventure settings, but most of the people who watch these things wouldn't shoot people in real life, or think it was fun if it happened.

"Why, just next year, one of the hottest VR films comin' out is an action movie about terrorists who take over the springhole and threaten to destroy it, and demand a ransom or they'll plug it up. They hold the whole world hostage, and this macho hero figure goes in to take 'em all out and save the world. I forget the name of the guy who's directin' it -- that famous action movie director guy. He's going to try to use real Terrians in his film, if you can believe that. He's going to try to persuade them to do what he wants, so he can get it on film, but he probably won't since the Terrians don't understand the concept. Anyway, the point is, the people are gonna go get this VR chip in droves. It'll sell out. But that don't mean there'll be a massacre the next day.

"You see, we use fiction to satisfy a primal, animal need. And as long as we keep it there, instead of in the real world, it's safe."

Anna shook her head. "Most children nowadays watch almost nothing but that. It cheapens life, and desensitizes them to it. It really does."

"Well, that may be," the man replied. "We do need a balance. All of life is a balance, did you know that?"

"I guess I did, but I never really thought of it that way before." "Sure. If you didn't have any balance when you walk, what would you do?" Anna smiled. "I'd fall down."
"Exactly. And if you don't have any balance in your spiritual life, what will you do?"

Anna thought about it. Quietly, she said, "I'd fall down." "Right. All of life is a balance. We each of us have a million scales inside us -- work, family, sex, God, money, neediness. It's almost impossible to balance them all at the same time. I've found that if you've got about a third of them balanced at any given time, you're ahead of the pack, and doin' all right.

"And one of those balances is the need for action, for adventure. Every child has that need. If they see too much, and glut themselves, they're out of balance. And they're also out of balance if they see too little. There is such a thing as being overprotective. And if you're worried that your boy might become desensitized to the value of human life, whose responsibility is it to set him straight and tell him what's a good example, and what's a bad?"

"Mine," Anna said simply. "But it's hard to teach when sometimes, you don't even know yourself."

"If it's up to you to teach something to your boy, and you don't know it yourself, then find out, and fast. Take a crash course." He nodded. "Ain't nobody else gonna do it for you."

"Whom do I trust to be my teachers? What if I think nobody else has the answers, either?"

The man thought about it for a second, and said, "When no one else is around to trust, and it seems like nobody else knows their ass from a hole in the ground, the one thing I've learned that will keep me straight all the time is this little thing that I call, 'the voice.'"

"The voice?" Anna asked.
"Yeah. Whenever I've done somethin' stupid -- and I done a lotta stupid things -- I usually remember that almost all the time, there was a little voice in my head that was sayin', 'Don't do that, you'll be sorry.'" I've found that this tiny voice is almost always there. I don't know what it is, my soul, my conscience, or what, but it don't ever shut up. But when I get caught up in my troubles, and I'm rushin' around like a koba with my head cut off, when my mind's a three-ring circus goin' 90 miles a minute, that's when the voice gets drowned out, and I don't hear what it's sayin'.

"So, if no one else is around that you can trust, stop *everything.* Stop, shut down the circus, tell the crowd in your head to be quiet, and listen to the voice. It don't often lead you wrong. It's got your best interest at heart, because the voice you're listening to is you. And we sometimes know more than we think we do."

Todd came running back up the stairs. Excitedly, he said, "The man down there said they don't usually let people look, but he'll attach a harness and a rope to me and let me look straight down the springhole if you come tell him it's okay with you!"

Anna glanced back up at the man behind her. "Let him live a little," the man smiled. "Let him have some adventure." Anna smiled back. "Okay, Todd. Take me to him." "Yes!" Todd pulled her back down the stairs eagerly. They approached one of the park workers standing by the barricades.

"I hear my son has been pestering you," Anna smiled at him. The man's name tag read, "Jeff."

"No, ma'am! Not at all."
"This is my mom, and she said it was okay!" "Hold on. What is it I'm agreeing to?" Anna asked. "Well, we don't normally do this, but we're not really busy today," Jeff said. "If it's all right with you, I'll attach a harness around his waist, hold him by a strap, and let him lean over and look straight down the springhole."

"It's safe?"
"Absolutely. He couldn't fall through, anyway, because of the net, but I'm just being extra cautious."

"Pleeeeeeeeeeease, mom?"
"You're sure you want to do this?"
"Yes!"
Jeff asked, "You're not afraid of heights?" Todd shook his head.
Jeff smiled. "All right. Here we go." He reached down and attached a small harness around Todd's waist. He clipped a strap to it, then attached it to himself. He leaned back, bracing himself, and said, "Now approach the edge of the hole, and whenever you're ready, lean out and look straight down. I've got you."

For all his enthusiasm, Todd approached the springhole slowly. When he reached the edge, he spread his arms wide, stood up talland fell forward with no fear.

For a brief moment only, Anna envied him. He hung there, leaning out over the springhole, and looked straight down into the heart of the planet.

And he looked into infinity.
"Whoa!" he shouted, but it came out as an awed whisper, which echoed around the bottomless chamber. He floated there, seemingly on an updraft, and for a moment, everything else in the whole world was forgotten, as the endless breezes and air currents, coming from who-knew-how-many tunnels below him, swung him back and forth slightly, murmuring the pains and hollows of the planet up at him, murmuring the memories of a million years, keeping him aloft, as if he were flying, and they were all murmuring for him, and for him alone.

Then he was being pulled back, and he was standing back on the ground, no longer flying a million feet in the air, once again gazing at the green trees and the blue sky.

"Whoa," he whispered.
As Jeff led him away from the edge, Anna looked at Todd. He was still a million miles away. He looked as if he'd just seen something deep, hidden behind one of life's many curtains, but couldn't explain what.

"Did you like that?" Jeff asked.
Todd nodded dumbly. "That was awesome," he said. Jeff smiled and stood up. He held the harness out to Anna. "Did you want to try?" he asked.

Anna quickly held up her hand. "Uh -- no." She laughed. "I'm not a height person."

Jeff laughed back. "I don't blame you!" Then Anna looked over Jeff's shoulder and saw a white mist rise up from the springhole. She instinctively held her son's shoulders. "Uh, oh. Did we disturb something?"

Jeff turned around, and his eyes got wide. "Well, no!" he said. "You didn't disturb anything! That's the planet's reaction to the presence of the pollen. There's a pollen-carrier close by. The planet can sense it." He turned back to Anna. "I think you'd better get back to your seats. We might have spring today."

"All right. Thanks!"
"Yeah, thanks!" Todd added. They walked back to their seats. The man with whom Anna had spoken was really listening to his gear set now.

"It's a Grendler," he told her. "It somehow missed most of the patrols. They picked it up about three kilometers south of here and they're driving it in."

Then the man lowered his gear set and looked at Todd. "Well, did you get to look down into the springhole?"

"I sure did!"
"What did you see?"
"I saw forever!"
The old man nodded, as if he'd known it all the time. The news of the pollen-carrier spread, and the stands filled up rapidly. A few news crews were there to record the event. As the minutes passed, the white mist began pouring out of the springhole and swirling around. It was so thick, the crowd couldn't see beyond it. Suddenly, there was a lot of pointing and shouting, and through the mist, Anna and Todd could just make out a dunerail on the other side of the springhole. A Grendler hopped out of the back of it and ran to the springhole as if it was the most important thing in the whole world. Men on every side of the net braced themselves with cables to take up slack in case the ground around the net gave way.

The Grendler threw himself onto the net. It held. No one could see what was happening, but they all knew that pollen was now pouring out of the Grendler's mouth and down into the heart of the planet.

Half a minute passed, then the Grendler let out a howl of fear and started thrashing. Two seconds later, a tranquilizer dart hit him in the side. Park workers rushed forward. They had about 15 seconds to pull the creature off the net and away to safety.

They pulled the entire net up, wrapping the Grendler in it, and hauled him away. Deep rumblings came from within the planet, and then all hell burst forth.

First red, then green gas came spewing out of the planet and shot high, high above them. The crowd gasped, and the heat washed over them. Everyone looked on, awestruck.

Anna took something out of her jacket pocket. It was a gear set. She placed it over Todd's head, then leaned down and whispered, "This is a present for you. It's a 200-year-old recording, by one of the Founding Fifteen." She kissed him on the head, and turned it on.

Todd heard, "So we sat there watching spring pour from a chimney in the earth. We thought this planet had no use for us, but now we saw it did. We'd completed a cycle of seasons the planet itself could not, and in the process, won our freedom from the never-ending cold."

Todd just smiled, and looked up into forever.

End of chapter 4

---

Heroes
by Douglas Neman

Chapter 5: The Journey Continues

They returned to the dig that evening. Winter didn't disappear instantly, but everyone's spirits were definitely brighter. Todd was bursting with news of watching spring being made. Not having his energy, Anna was happy let him tell the story to everyone. Several times.

She and two of Fulbright's students were preparing the camp's dinner (they'd drawn up a roster, and tonight was her turn) when they heard the sound of an approaching helicopter. A few seconds later, it appeared over a hill, flying low. Slung beneath its great belly was a TransRover, chained onto a huge platform. Not just any TransRover -- *the* TransRover.

Anna watched with wonder as the helicopter pilot maneuvered the platform down onto a space which had been cleared that morning. The chain was released, and the pilot made his way back to Chamisa Trail with a wave.

Anna felt a surge of excitement as she watched the TransRover arrive. She almost felt like it was coming home, and she wondered if vehicles were alive somehow. Did they act like their owners? Did they remember places? Could they survive for more than they were built for?

It had only been several days since she had wished to lay her hands on the TransRover again, but now that she could, she really felt no desire to. It was enough that it was there. She turned her attention back to her duties. She would look over it after a little while.

It was after dinner that the committee arrived. "Anna, dear!" Mrs. Bowen ran forward to greet her, and before Anna knew what was happening, she had been hugged and smooched. Only Mrs. Bowen would do that.

The rest of the committee only shook her hand, for which she was grateful, but they were no less excited to see her.

"We had the TransRover brought to Chamisa Trail by cargo plane, then air-lifted in," Mrs. Farmington was saying. "We rode in on the plane, but had to drive out here ourselves, because they said they couldn't land the helicopter."

"No, that's not true," Mrs. Edgeworth said. "We rode out here because helicopters make me airsick. You can say it."

"Well, regardless, we're here!" Mrs. Downing said. "So show us around!" Anna introduced them to Roger.
"Oh, you're that nice young man who started all this!" Mrs. Carpenter said. "Well done! You know you're on the committee now, of course."

"The Bicentennial Planning Committee?" Roger asked. "Well, I don't think I could possibly-"

"Nonsense." Mrs. Bowen took Roger by the arm and they all walked toward the excavation site. "You and Anna together are uncovering the bio-dome. The bio-dome is the site of the Bicentennial Celebrations. You're mixed up in this too much to leave you out. You're on the committee, whether you like it or not. Now tell us all about it."

Anna smiled at him, giving him a look as if to say, 'Well, come on!' Roger nodded. "Very well. Follow me." He led them into the excavation area. The bulldozers had been abandoned to one side temporarily, and about eight people were digging around a white dome that jutted up from the surface by about 15 feet.

"So this is it?" Mrs. Edgeworth asked. "This is it," Anna said, leading them around the dome until they came to the front door. It was halfway uncovered. Two of the students were busy shoveling away dirt from in front of it, while the others were stretched to either side, digging out more dirt so that it wouldn't fall into the hollowed-out area in front of the door. "We expect to have it uncovered and safely accessible by about midnight tonight."

"Incredible!" Mrs. Downing breathed. "Well!" Mrs. Bowen rolled up her shirtsleeves and turned to Roger. "Are you going to give us shovels, or what?"

About five hours later, the doorway was clear, and the slope leading down to it was gentle enough that no dirt fell down into the cleared space, and it was deemed safe enough to go inside.

Because it was actually a tiny dome, not everyone could go in at once. The news crews, of course, wanted to be first, but Anna and Roger had firmly told them that excavation members had more right. Secretly, they didn't trust the reporters to leave any artifacts they found alone.

They eventually decided that one cameraman from one news crew would accompany Anna and Fulbright, and all the news crews could patch into that channel. Behind them would come Anna's staff and the students.

Roger and Anna stood at the doorway. They each had their own personal gear sets on and recording.

They looked at each other.
"Ready?" Roger asked.
Anna nodded excitedly, feeling her heart race. For her, *this* was adventure.

They switched on their lumalights and pulled the doors open. The air was musty. Before them was a short hallway and two more double doors. They advanced inside and pushed them open. They found themselvesin the main dome. Slowly, the others filed in.

Richard was carrying a power cable, attached to a generator outside. He found the circuit board and attached the cable. Most of the dome lights came on.

"Amazing," Anna whispered, looking around her. "These domes were built to last," Richard said. "Before it was buried, it was on a self-perpetuating cycle."

"Everything gets recorded on gear, then itemized," Roger announced. He did this more for the viewers at home than anyone else, as everyone present knew it already.

On one side of the dome, a doorway which had once led to a cloth-covered walkway was now filled with dirt, but no signs of insect damage or water damage could be seen.

Through another door, they found square beds of potting soil. "This must have been the hydroponics lab," Susan said. Their gear sets were swung wide, recording everything. After looking around for a while, Anna picked up a small plastic pail out of the dirt, obviously a child's toy. She turned it over, wondering if True or Ulysses had played with it. But on the underside, it said, "Mary."

She went back into the main room, where there were tables and chairs. Daniel was coming down from the loft carrying something.

"There's an old rocking chair up there," he said. "And I found this. Check it out!"

He laid something on one of the tables. It was silvery, and about 14 inches tall. The bottom half was a box, the upper half was a pyramid.

"This looks familiar," Anna said, leaning down and gazing at it. "What is it?"

"It's a perimeter monitor," Daniel said. "It's similar to what Howard brought out here yesterday, but an older model." He smiled at them. "It's petrified."

"Really?" Anna picked it up, and was surprised to find that it didn't feel like metal, although it was obviously made of metal. It felt more like rock.

"It must have been caught inside the geolock which Morgan Martin set off," Roger said, "but it wasn't in the area when the lock was reversed."

Anna sighed. "I can see why geolocks were banned." They spent another two hours going over the dome, mapping it, showing it to viewers. In the end, however, there really wasn't much to show beyond the dome itself.

"Obviously," Roger told one of the reporters later, "Eden Advance took almost everything with them when they left, which would have been the logical thing to do. None of us really expected to find much in the way of artifacts here."

"Then what did you expect to find, professor?" the reporter asked. "To be honest, I expected to find a message of some sort. Perhaps a final message left by the Founding Fifteen in the dome's central computer to anyone coming here later, for whatever reason. Or another data chip, dropped and left behind. And we still may find such things, but I'm doubtful."

"Then are you disappointed with the results of this expedition?" "Not at all. Anytime we can find something to do with our past, and put some closure to it, we've achieved something. And just being here in this dome, knowing that here in this room was where the Founding Fifteen faced some of their most difficult crises, is reward enough."

"All right, thank you, professor."

Over the next several days, the dome was excavated more thoroughly, down to the original surface of the land. The smaller structures which had shown up on the sonograph were small units with hoses attached, designed to extract water from the ground, and to use the ground to cool the dome in the summer.

They also began to feel several tremors, which started the morning after the dome was opened.

True to Roger's word, the camp had been moved to higher ground, even though it made everyone more uncomfortable, and he worked out a roster to limit the number of people working inside the dome to three people and two reporters at any given time.

Anna addressed her concerns to Mrs. Bowen. "You know, after what the Terrians have warned us about, I'm not so sure we're going to get our money's worth out of this expedition."

"That may be, dear, but life's a risk," Mrs. Bowen said. "I've started talks with the First National Bank of New Pacifica and a contracting company to see if it would be feasible to simply move the entire dome elsewhere. I mean, we can't simply dig it up again every spring."

"That would be quite an undertaking." "Actually, it wouldn't," Mrs. Bowen replied. "I've been studying these domes, and they were specifically designed to be set up by a minimum of two people. It wouldn't be easy at first, but it could be dismantled and moved much more easily than other structures."

Anna just shook her head. "Mrs. Bowen, you are amazing." "Some would say so," she nodded. Then she gasped and grabbed Anna's arm. "Oh, Mrs. Farmington and I made the most astonishing discovery last week, and in all the excitement, we forgot to tell you!"

"Tell me what?"
"Well, the Carruthers, one of the oldest families in New Pacifica, have sold their house and are moving inland. Mrs. Carruthers was packing away junk in the attic which had been in her family for generations, and she was surprised to discover an old gear recording of the wedding between Devon Adair and John Danziger!"

Anna gasped. "You're kidding! Really?" "Yes! And what's more, the recording chip had an identity code attached to it! We researched the town archives, and found another branch of the Adair-Danziger family that no one ever knew about before! We traced the genealogy to the present day and visited them!"

Anna quickly led Mrs. Bowen over to one of the collapsible tables they had set up and sat her down on the seat. She sat across from her. "Tell me everything!" she ordered.

"Well, actually, there isn't much to tell. That was the good part. It turns out that the only member of this family who still lives in New Pacifica was a young man who didn't care that he was a descendant of Devon and John."

*"He didn't care?"* Anna was incredulous. "Not -- one -- bit. Oh, he was nice enough, and he agreed that it was fascinating, but he just couldn't be bothered about it very much."

"Well, who was it?"
"I don't know. I've already forgotten his name, he was such a disappointment. Some college drop-out who spends all of his time in front of a computer screen, talking to people through e-mail and writing silly stories. Self-indulgent ones, I might add."

Anna sighed. "What a waste."
Mrs. Bowen nodded.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, looking at the land around them. The evening was very, very pleasant, very beautiful; the sun was setting, the woods were quiet. The expedition members were catching up on sleep, or reading. The few who weren't were down in the bio-dome. Todd was down there too, helping out in whatever way he could. Just beyond camp, there were now six vehicles. Most of them were dunerails, but two were TransRovers. One belonged to a news crew, the other was the one airlifted from the museum. It all looked so different from the way it did when they'd first arrived, Anna reflected, only a few days before.

She felt a faint vibration, and wondered who was approaching now. But the vibration continued, and the cups on the table began to shake, and suddenly Anna realized she wasn't feeling a vehicle approaching, she was feeling the land move.

Just when she started to say something, the whole world kicked like a newborn and she was thrown off the bench and onto the ground.

Then a tremendous *CRACK* exploded all around her and inside her head, and the world started to go mad.

She opened her eyes to see a dark sky above her. Panicking, she tried to stand up, only to be thrown down again. There was another *CRACK,* and Anna saw why the sky was dark.

Hot ash was spewing into the sky from one of the mountains nearby. It was beginning to fall, and burn. Around her, people were running. Mrs. Bowen was lying face-up on the ground, dazed. Anna quickly crawled over to her and covered her face with her shirt, and tried to get her to stand up. Then she saw people jump into the dunerails.

"Don't leave!" she yelled. "Nobody leaves until we're all present! Nobody gets left behind!" But her voice was drowned out by the thunder of the land, and they didn't hear her.

She saw Roger, and he was wearing his gear set. She activated her own. "Roger! Tell everyone not to leave! Tell them to wait, and have everyone communicate by gear! That's the only way we can talk to each other!"

She saw Roger spin around and fall, and she couldn't even tell if he'd heard. Then she saw him stagger up and run to the vehicles. He frantically stood in front of them, and waved his arms. Once they were stopped, he ran up to the people in the dunerails and spoke with them, and everyone nodded and put on their gear sets.

Anna witnessed it all in a kind of sick slow motion. She couldn't even tell who was inside the rails, her vision was so fuzzy. Students, reporters, staff, committee members. Just how many people were here? She couldn't remember. She couldn't think. She didn't move, but covered Mrs. Bowen with her body, trying to protect her.

Then she heard Roger's voice over her gear. "We're in no immediate danger! Stay inside some of the tents, grouped together, and get out of this ash! As soon as everyone is up here from the dome and accounted for, we'll pull out!"

Anna looked up to see which tents the others were heading for. The two biggest ones. She stood up and frantically dragged Mrs. Bowen towards them, stumbling and falling all the way. She reached one of the tents, and she felt people pulling her inside. Someone started to treat Mrs. Bowen. She didn't know who.

Someone was speaking over the gear channel. "What's the status up there? Is everyone all right?" It was Richard. "So far," Roger replied. "How many of you are down there?" "Just five. We're okay, we've just decided to wait out whatever is happening. It looks a lot more dangerous out there than it does in here."

"Negative," Roger said. "The situation is very dangerous! We're pulling out the moment you join us!"

"Right, we're on our-"
*CRACK-OOM!*
Anna felt herself screaming, but couldn't hear herself. It was like two ten-mile tunnels had just been drilled into her skull. Everything echoed.

She took a deep breath and looked out of the tent at the bio-dome, now looking tiny and helpless far below them. Horrified beyond belief, screaming for it not to be true, she saw the landslide 200 meters wide gushing down the opposite mountain slope, saw it smash against the front door and block it completely with 5,000 tons of dirt, saw it cave in the front of the dome like it was nothing more than paper.

"TODD!" She ran from the tent down the mountain, screaming. On the other side of the valley, lava poured down the slope, following the landslide to complete the job it had started.

"Anna!" Roger took off after her. He tackled her to the ground, and held her there, where she beat against him furiously.

"Let me go! Let go of me!"
"Stop it!" He slapped her. She looked at him, stunned. "Stop it! We can't help them! No one can help them!"

"Mom?" It was Todd.
Coughing and choking, with the ash swirling around her, Anna frantically clutched her gear set tighter to her head. "Todd?"

"We're all right!" Richard said. "Don't worry about us! None of us were near the door, because of the ash coming inside. We're still coming up. In a few minutes, we can bust our way out of the back of the dome!"

"Richard!" Anna said. "You don't have a few minutes! Lava's on the way!" "We don't have a choice!" Richard shot back. "We'll bust out, and Todd's coming up first!"

Anna sat up and twisted around, her eyes stinging from the ash. Only a tiny bit of the bio-dome was visible, sticking out of the dirt bank. She strained to see it bust open, to see her son emerge safely and run up the slope to her, out of danger. Nothing was happening.

The lava was cruising down the slope. It would be there in less than a minute, and cover the entire bottom of the gap.

She turned her gear off. "They'll never make it in time!" she yelled at Fulbright.

His reply was cut off by another thunderous crack, and more ash erupted into the air. His eyes squeezed shut, and he fell to the ground. He staggered back up, groping around, unsure if he could even find his way back to the tent. Anna was nowhere near him.

Twin beams struck him right in the eyes. He put his hand up, wondering what it was. He heard the roar of an engine, and he realized he was looking at a TransRover. No, he thought, as his eyes got wide -- not just any TransRover.

*The* TransRover.

*"FORWARD ROLL!"* Anna cried, and with a mighty roar, its wheels spinning, the great beast busted loose of all of its chains. It lurched hard off the platform, smashed one of the dunerails out of the way, swung past Roger, and raced down into the valley below.

Roger watched it go, and he couldn't help but smile. Then he saw Carl run out of one of the tents further down the hillside and swing up onto the TransRover's sideboard as it passed him.

Anna looked incredulously at her new passenger. "I believe I can help," Carl said.
"Whatever!" Anna replied, gritting her teeth and driving on through the ash. She activated her gear again. "Roger! Call for an emergency air lift from Chamisa Trail! And start moving people out! Not everyone has to wait for us!"

Then Carl keyed his own gear set and said, "Richard, please have everyone back away from the rear wall. I have very good aim."

Carl still stood on the passenger sideboard, hanging on by one hand. With his other hand he raised his staff, energy crackling all over it. The power built into a buzzing crescendo, and he let it fly.

The ball of lightning sailed down the mountainside and exploded perfectly against the rear of the bio-dome, blasting open a hole. Almost immediately, Todd was virtually thrown through it. The other four people frantically crawled through behind him. Just as they started running, the lava poured down on them.

And the TransRover roared past them, swung around, and slammed into the lava flow sideways, blocking its path and saving their lives. Lava poured into the cab, burning Anna all down her left side. She screamed. Carl reached in and pulled her out the other side. Todd was there to meet her on the sideboard.

"Run Todd!" Anna yelled at him.
"But mom! What about the TransRover?" *"Let it go!"*
They jumped off and started running up the slope. Lava poured around the TransRover, through it, then over it. It began to fill up the entire gap. They still ran. Ahead of her, Anna saw a man fall hard, twisting his ankle and hitting his head. She dimly noticed that it was the same reporter who had snapped at her the other day about Dreamers. Carl ran up to him, took him in his arms, and said, "Keep running! I can only take one!"

Then Carl disappeared into the earth, taking the reporter to safety. They still ran, covering their faces with their shirts to keep out the ash, and began to outpace the lava. If they had been trying to outrun the lava going downhill, they would never have made it. But going uphill, they had the advantage.

Up ahead, they saw lights. Roger had driven the second TransRover to the edge of the campsite and shone the bright headlights down into the valley, knowing they wouldn't be able to find their way out without help.

Minutes later, they came stumbling into camp. Carl was already there, laying the dazed reporter on the TransRover's sideboard. All the other vehicles were gone.

"Is everyone accounted for?" Anna asked. She saw Roger look at her in horror, and she knew he was seeing the third-degree burns down her face and arm. But he managed to say, "Yes. We're the only ones left."

There was another explosion behind them. Feeling sick, Anna lifted Todd into the TransRover's cab. He was wheezing, and could hardly stand. Just as she shut the door, a fresh blast of hot ash swept over them all, and she found herself lost in a swirling darkness. She had no sense of balance. She reached for the door handle to hold herself up, and found herself clutching a tree root instead. Funny, she though, I don't feel like I'm lying down.

She tried to stand, but her body just wouldn't respond. Her legs moved feebly. Then the blackness overtook her, and she knew no more.

Anna woke up in a strange bed, staring at a strange wall. Her chest was tight with fear. After a moment, memories came crashing in on her. Had it all been a nightmare? She put her hand up to her face, and felt the bandages. No. It hadn't been a nightmare.

"Mom?"
She saw Todd sitting in a chair beside the bed, his eyes wide at seeing her awake. Anna gradually realized she was in a hospital. She felt so weak.

"Todd?" she asked. She hated how feeble her voice sounded. Todd went to her and held her hand. "What happened?" she asked. "How did we get here?" "The rescue helicopters arrived and took us away," he said. "Me and Carl were the only two people who were still awake. I was in the TransRover, and he's a Dreamer, so he's kind of hard to suffocate."

Anna smiled weakly. "Yes, I suppose he would be." "I called the helicopters to us from the 'Rover's radio," Todd went on. "They homed in on the signal, and they dropped down with stretchers. They brought us all here to Sieraski Hospital in Chamisa Trail."

Anna took a deep breath. "Is everyone okay?" "Uh huh," Todd nodded. "Everyone made it. And you know what? The chief of police here in Chamisa Trail has listened to the gear logs of everyone. You know -- what everyone was saying when the lava was coming down? He says that the reason everyone is alive is because you took charge and thought fast. He wants to give you a medal. He says you're a hero."

Anna reached out with one arm to touch him. "Are you all right?" she asked. Todd turned his shoulder to her and showed her a cut on his arm. "I got scratched when Richard threw me out of the bio-dome, but other than that, I'm okay."

"Come here," she smiled. She pulled him close and hugged him. "Knock, knock," came a voice from the doorway. Anna looked up to see Roger. He looked much the same as when he'd knocked on her office door back in New Pacifica, only a week ago. "Can I come in?" he asked.

"Sure," she smiled. "But only if you tell me what day it is, and who did what, and where, and how, and...I don't know."

"Well," Roger took a deep breath, "you took more of a beating than anyone else, and you're the only one still hospitalized. We were all brought here two days ago."

"Two days?" Anna croaked out.
"You needed reconstructive surgery on your face and your left arm," he said. "The doctors put you under and left you under in order to do that. They say that the bandages can come off in a couple of days, and you're face will be as good as new."

"Huh," Anna said. "Just what I wanted to hear." "Anna," Roger stepped forward and sat down on the bed, "you saved a lot of people's lives out there. You and Todd both, since he kept his head and used the TransRover's radio. You probably saved my life. I can't ever thank you enough for that."

"Don't sell yourself short, Roger," Anna said. "You did just as much." "Only after you told me to. Until I heard your voice, I was panicking as much as anyone else. Which is why I want to give you this." He pulled out a present from underneath his coat and handed it to her.

"Oh, Roger, you shouldn't have," Anna said, embarrassed. "I think you'll like it," he smiled. "Go on. Open it up." Anna tore open the packaging and opened the box. Inside was a fedora. "What's this for?" she asked.
"Are you familiar with the great classics from the expansionist period on Earth? Spielberg?"

"Uh...vaguely."
"Well, it occurred to me that anyone who behaved as you did when the volcano erupted is just as fantastic an archaeologist as his legendary character. And I thought maybe we should start calling you Indy-Anna." He smiled.

Anna just looked at him. "Roger, that's awful. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"No doubt, but I'm not."
"Try it on, mom!"
She did.
"It looks good on you," Roger said. "It really does." Anna just laughed. "What happened to the bio-dome?" "Gone," he said. "And the original TransRover. The earth covered it all up, just like Carl said it would. And the lava will have disfigured everything beyond recognition, so there's no point in digging it up again."

Anna sighed. "Well, I guess we're not going to hold the Bicentennial Celebrations there, are we?"

Roger shook his head, and they both smiled. "But what if I told you I had a lead on the crash site of the *Roanoke,* where Eden Advance's escape pod touched down?" he suddenly asked.

Anna looked up in amazement. "You do?" "No. Not yet." He picked up his coat and stood up. "Next time, though. Next time. For now, I'm heading back to my safe, boring life."

"Will I be seeing you around?" Anna asked him. He nodded. "If you wish. I was actually wondering if you'd care to join me on staff at HU."

"Oh, really?" Anna asked. "Funny. I was going to ask if you wanted to join me at the NPHM."

Roger smiled. "We'll obviously have to work that out." Anna just smiled back at him.
"We'll talk again when you're better, Anna. Good-bye." Anna waved good-bye, and he left.

Two days later, Anna stood in her hospital room one final time, admiring her repaired face in the mirror. It was indistinguishable from the original. Maybe even a little better. Or was that just her? she thought.

She tried on the fedora. Yeah, it did look nice. Kind of stylish. She'd have to watch those movies it had come from. They were action / adventure movies, if she remembered correctly. Maybe she and Todd could sit down together some evening and watch them together. Yeah, she thought. That would be nice.

She turned to where Todd was standing beside her suitcase. "Ready?" she asked.
"If you are," he replied.
Anna did her final checkout, with reporters dogging her every step of the way, telling the world that she was all right. She and Todd waltzed through them, and they walked out to the parking lot, where Susan met them and led them to the car she'd rented.

As Susan put Anna's bag in the trunk and they climbed in, Todd asked, "Mom, did you ever figure out what it was you came out here looking for?"

"Yes," she said. "I came out here looking for a hero." "Really?" he asked. "Did you find one?" "I sure did," she smiled, and brushed some hair out of his eyes. "And I found her in the unlikeliest place of all."

From the front seat, Susan asked, "Where to?" "Home," Anna said.
"The airfield," Todd clarified.
As they pulled away, Todd took out the gear recording his mother had given him on springday and played it. As he looked out at the sunshine and the budding trees and blooming flowers, he listened again to Morgan Martin.

"The temperature rose for days and days. It was far from summer yet, but winter was definitely on the wing. The crew made preparations for an imminent departure, and all of us began to feel the thrill of expectation. We would be living on the horizon once again, and this winter camp would be home only to memories, of things feared, things overcome, and things learned -- enough, we hoped, to help us make an impossible journey possible."

The End

---

Heroes
by Douglas Neman

The Story After the Story

I finished reading. The men gathered before me were silent, lost in thought. No one looked at each other. My throat was parched; the glass of water was long since gone.

Finally, one of the Hollywood men spoke up. "So, like, what happened after that?"

"What do you mean, 'What happened?' That's the end." "How can that be the ending? What kind of an ending is that? What happened to Anna?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "Maybe she went home and celebrated with a couple of cheeseburgers."

"And did they ever go find the crash site?" another man spoke up. "Yeah," a third said. "Does that final scene in the hospital room mean that Anna and Roger are going to get married?"

"Are you asking me," I said slowly, "to write a sequel?" "Well...yeah," one of them said.
Bingo.
"Mr. President," I said, "I wish for it to go on record that it's rather difficult to penalize me for writing stories, when the very people who are trying to incriminate me have specifically requested that I write more."

"Hey! Now I never said -- oh, yeah, I guess I did," the Hollywood man said.

"He's right," the President said. "Besides, I thought it was pretty good." "Thank you, Mr. President," I nodded. "You just got my vote." "Hold on," Mr. Hollywood spoke up for the first time. "You're not going aywhere."

"I'm not?" My heart plummeted.
"No, you're not."
"Yes, he is," the President spoke up. "No, he's not."
"Yes, he is."
My gaze went back and forth between them like I was at a tennis match. "Can I say something about this?" I asked.

"No!" they both said, then returned to their arguing. "Will not."
"Will too."
"Will not."
"Will too."
Mr. Hollywood sighed. "All right, Mr. President. Have it your own way. We can release him, as you wish -- and we will utterly destroy your image."

"But I've just remembered something," the President said. "I'm serving my second term right now. I can't run for President again, anyway. So threatening me is kind of pointless, isn't it?"

Mr. Hollywood scowled. One of his cohorts leaned forward and whispered, "I told you he would think of it sooner or later."

"Very well," Mr. Hollywood sighed, then pointed a finger at me. "But don't think this is over. You've made an enemy today, Mr. Neman."

"Gosh," I said. "Threatening someone who pays to see your films. Not very good for business, is it?"

I waltzed out of the room, acting a lot cockier than I felt. They took me back out to an air field. A colonel escorted me. As we walked, he said, "The U.S. government deeply apologizes for the nuclear waste that was dumped in your back yard-"

"Huh?" I asked.
And aide behind him leaned forward and whispered, "Wrong apology, sir. That's someone else. This is the fanfic guy."

Without breaking stride, the colonel said, "The U.S. government deeply apologizes for the trouble it has caused you. You will find your windows and doors repaired when you get home, and as compensation, we will give you anything you want."

"All right," I answered, "how about a date with Debrah Farentino." The colonel stopped in amazement, then turned to me. "Son, don't press your luck."

"Right," I said. "How about a new computer? Fancy. 486. Pentium Drive. Windows '98. Netscape. Monitor. Color laser jet printer. The works."

"Done."
We reached the plane and climbed aboard. It was one of those big army cargo planes for hauling lots of people around. We took off and headed for Dallas.

Several hours later, the pilot announced, "We've arrived, sir." "How long until we land?" I asked.
"Land?" the colonel asked me. "We're not landing. We've got a budget and a schedule to keep. We have to get you down the cheap way."

The colonel's aide raised my arms and put them through the straps of some sort of backpack. The colonel easily picked up two huge boxes and said, "Here's the computer equipment you wanted. Take it, and good luck."

I was suddenly aware of the wind whipping into the plane from somewhere. He dumped the boxes into my arms, and I staggered under the weight. "What do you mean, goWHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

The colonel had shoved me out of the plane, and I was falling rapidly towards Dallas, Texas.

I screamed and screamed. Tumbling through the air, I let go of the boxes and yanked the cord. The parachute whipped out, brought me up short, and I watched helplessly as my brand new 486 with Pentium Processor and color laser jet printer smashed to a million pieces in the parking lot below.

I drifted down, still at a frightening speed, and landed in the trash dumpster outside my apartment building. With a huge *flumpf,* the parachute came down after and covered the whole thing.

I slowly climbed out of the dumpster and pulled the parachute aside. It was 2:00 in the morning; no one had witnessed my spectacular return except the stray cats.

I wadded the parachute up and shoved it into the dumpster, then went back inside my home. The door and windows had been repaired, the carpet had been vacuumed, the dishes had been washed, and there was a new carton of milk in the refrigerator. On the kitchen counter was a note which read, "We apologize for the inconvenience."

I shrugged. All in all, no harm done, except that now I needed a shower. I took it, then turned on my little wonder computer which sometimes ate my stories, and proceeded to post my latest story to the fanfic list.

Only later did I learn what happened back in Washington after I'd left. "We're not giving up," Mr. Hollywood said. "Come on, Mr. President. We'll help whomever you endorse for the next race win if you give us another chance."

"Oh, all right," the President said. "I'm too tired to argue with you any more."

"Right. Do we have the backing of the United Nations? Can we go international with this if we have to?"

He nodded.
"Excellent! Proceed."
One of the Hollywood men opened the book of fanfic authors, again getting as close to the middle as he possibly could. He closed his eyes and stabbed at the page.

"Nicole Mayer, Brisbane, Queensland, Australia!" *"GO!"* the sergeant yelled. Immediately, the troops ran to the helicopters. Satellite tracking systems swung across the Coral Sea to focus on the target. Stealth bombers silently split the night overhead, ready to give support at a moment's notice. Attack helicopters swooped in low, converging on Brisbane...

-The End-

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This text file was ran through PERL script made by Andy. Original text file is available in Andy's Earth 2 Fan Fiction Archive.