006 - Meet The Caplan’s part 3

They quietly watched the rest of the matches. Steven pulled her gi top off her shoulders, and massaged her shoulders and back. He could feel the tension in her, and even after he finished with a muscle, it remained tense.

Once the contest was done, Roxanne went to stand with her class as they received their awards. Most of her kids had already changed clothes. They started to leave once the match was officially closed. Roxanne then took her bag and went into the women’s locker room. Twenty minutes later she came out having showered and dressed in street clothes, smelling lightly of pain-rub. Roxanne was starting to limp a bit from a thigh-kick she had taken. She was embraced by her family, and they all went out to the car and truck. Alex and Diana squabbled about who would get to ride where.

“I get to ride in mom’s front seat.”

“But you got to last time.”

Back and forth it went, and then Steven joined.

“Who’s going to ride with me?”

And around it went again.

“Tell you what.” Steven said. “You two drive the truck, and mom and I will take the car.”

“No. That’s silly.” Diana said. “We can’t drive.”

Rox joined the game. “I don’t know. I like it. That way, I get to ride with dad.” She moved to the passenger side of her Camero as she said this, yawning. While the kids carried on a bit with Steven, she opened the door, and tossed her gym bags in the back seat. The kids were still arguing. But it seemed mostly they were just going on for the fun of it.

Steven ended the squabble. “Fine. Diana rides with me to go get dinner. Alex rides with me home from there.” Steven had the truck unlocked and open.

Rox turned and looked at Steven when he said this, about to say something then decided not to. She had not eaten either, and really did not want to cook. It was the middle of the evening, they still needed dinner, and home was most of an hour’s drive away. The kids agreed to this as Rox waved to one of her students driving away, waving his ribbon at her. Rox then climbed into her car, with Alex climbing into the passenger seat and tugging the door closed.

They put their seat belts on, with Alex adjusting the straps on the high back bucket seat to hold him. The four point harness held him a bit awkward, until the chest strap was in place. Rox checked his belts, and then put the key in the ignition. The truck next to her rumbled to life right then. She smiled at the sound, then pushed in the clutch and turned her own engine over.

The throaty growl of the Camero’s custom built supercharged engine easily drowned out the truck. Rox let the car sit in neutral a moment to warm the big engine up. While she did she watched the gauges, snugged her own four-point harness, and turned on the radar detector, and scanner. Alex all but shivered in tune with the car. Both of Roxanne’s children enjoyed riding with her.

Steven pulled out of the parking spot, and drove to the road, Rox following. She drove carefully, as she could break her wheels loose if she pushed her car at all. Once on Baring Blvd. they drove through the streets sedately, Steven leading until they got to McCarran. They turned left/south onto the road, and started toward the freeway. Here Roxanne took over.

Six traffic lights were between them and the on-ramp. Roxanne drove sedately to the fourth one, which crossed a local thoroughfare. Turn left at this one and go two miles and you find a police station. She had no desire to risk meeting them, and having a donation solicited by them, in reward for her driving as fast as she liked. Once clear of that light, the traffic dissipated, and Roxanne moved quickly through it, the lights in her favor. Steven plowed the truck through the holes she made, keeping back, but keeping pace. She right-turned onto the on-ramp to I-80, at the posted speed.

They were significantly above the posted speed the rest of the drive, Alex howling in delight the whole way. The freeway traffic was mostly long-haul trucks and she passed these easily. She coasted through the interchange switching from west bound I-80 to southbound 395. The southbound traffic was light enough that she only had to slow down to keep control, and not to evade other cars. She went south four exits and hit the fifth ramp just over the posted limit, having had her detector go off hard as she passed the Reno airport radar tower.

The Camero only got to fifth gear this time. Sixth would have to wait for the trip home. They had lost Steven just before the interchange, and did not see him again until he pulled into the lot to park. Roxanne and Alex were already walking into the Chinese restaurant.

Once dinner was done, they trooped back to the car and truck. Diana got into the Camero with Roxanne this time. Once back on the south bound freeway, they left Steven and Alex in the truck behind. They saw them briefly where the freeway ended and switched to a highway, bottlenecking traffic some.

Once the traffic spread out to wander through the next valley south, Rox commenced to test the speed traps. Nobody was watching them tonight. Over a long hill, into a larger valley Rox continued to pass the traffic. She wanted to find sixth gear, but was not yet able to without being reckless, or move to a flatter part of her power band. The road wandered a bit with the terrain, then headed south again in a long straight on the shore of a small lake. Diana grinned where Alex had laughed. The Camero launched down the road, and Rox found sixth gear.

They slowed to the speed limit as she drove over and down the hill into Carson. Driving through took a quarter of an hour. Once over the last hill and out of town, the highway shot straight south across a rural valley. Again Rox found sixth, and a few large bugs to wash off later. Again they slowed down at Gardnerville, and left the highway. Rox idled along the rural streets, to the house. Once upon a time she had roared down these roads, and nearly hit a kid riding a horse.

Rox pulled onto the gravel driveway for her garage and let the car idle. Diana was almost asleep. Rox set the parking break and got out to open the doors to the garage, which occupied most of a barn. Rox swung the doors wide, then pulled the car in and parked it, checking the gauges. Satisfied that it had cooled down enough, she shut it off.

Diana roused as the car moved again, and then parked. She unbuckled and got out, taking the gym bag for her mother. Rox took the gear bag and they closed the swinging doors. Rox latched and locked them. They went around the side of the garage, and through the gate into the backyard. The automatic lights turned on as the motion sensors were tripped. The dogs both bounced around the yard having been alerted by the sound of the car.

Diana and Roxanne were about halfway across the yard when Roxanne stopped. She looked up at the stars. The nagging feeling that had bugged her all day seemed to direct her to look at one particular star. That star had always been special since her grandmother had pointed it out, before Rox was Diana’s age. The neighborhood lights washed most of the sky out, but that star was barely visible.

Shaking her head to clear it, Rox got her house key out and unlocked the French Doors and let Diana and herself in. The dogs crowded each other through the door after Rox and Diana had gone in. One stopped and nosed the door closed. They then continued to jumble around the living room. Rox pulled a trophy from her bag, and set it on a shelf next to others in the living room. Later she would take it to her Dojo and put it with the others for her class there. Rox then followed Diana into the hall to the bedrooms. Here she unlocked her own bedroom door, and entered.

Diana dropped the gym bag by the laundry, and then went to her own bedroom. Rox had the bags emptied and the dirty clothes down the chute to the laundry room by the time she heard the truck pull into the garage attached to the house. Shortly Steven and Alex were in the house.

Rox closed the bedroom door, gathered her bathrobe, and went into the bathroom. She stood under the shower until Steven came in to use the bathroom prior to going to bed.

Steven lounged on his side of the bed, reading, as finally Rox left the bathroom. A few of the bruises on her were visible, and obviously sore as she dropped the towel, hung up the bathrobe, and put on her underwear and nightgown. He watched her slip under the covers. She was always sore for a few days after a tournament. He finished what he was reading, leaned over and kissed her lightly, then turned his light out and settled down to his own pillow, watching her.

A warm glow effused Rox briefly as her husband kissed her. She wanted to return it, but was too far asleep by then.

007 - One More Illegal Alien In California

Caspian felt his senses gather back around him, as his body was instantly put together. If he had not been leaning on his staff, he would have collapsed, even with less of a pull from gravity than he was used to. Cyrril was draped across the back of Caspian’s neck. Caspian shook his head, squeezing his eyes closed to clear the flash blindness. A light breeze carried pine forest smells past him, as he took a few deep breaths. The air was thinner than where he had left and warmer, but more humid. Sounds filtered in, of night time. After an interminable handful of eternity, Caspian looked around.

He stood in the center of a small clearing of trees, with a ring of short stones at the perimeter. Looking farther he could see two more rings of stones. To an untrained eye this place was unremarkable. Adding to the stones, a few ash trees ringed the place, along with a loose circle of mushrooms. The ash trees were of note, not being indigenous to the place. A few large pine trees, a scattering of aspen, and miscellaneous forest growth finished the flora.

Caspian waited longer for his senses to clear. Travel by ley line was always exhausting. Finally, he noticed a bit of native fauna. A young couple was wrapped around each other in just a bedroll, about ten strides away. They were both looking blearily at him. Probably disturbed by the sound of his entrance. Caspian looked at them a moment, then looked at the few stars he could see through the trees.

Judging the stars against what he could feel of the ley lines and the terrain, and coming to no conclusion, he oriented to down hill and started walking down the mountain. He was not sure but thought he was moving toward the equator. Shortly he would need to establish his terrestrial location. Then figure where the descendants of the elf he was looking for were, relative to his location. But first, he needed some rest.

He walked a distance, in the dark. After tripping over roots for the third time, he found a small hollow at the base of a tree. Wrapping his coat and cloak around him and hooding his face, Caspian leaned against the tree, and went to sleep.

A gentle kick against his foot startled Caspian awake. The sun was coming slantwise through the trees, from Caspian’s left. A man spoke. Caspian felt sure he should know what was being said, but was a bit confused by his surroundings.

The most immediate thing that concerned Caspian was the absence of his staff. He looked around, and patted the ground briefly. Noticing that Cyrril was also missing, as also any sense of ambient mana, Caspian suddenly remembered where he was. The lack of mana and the scent of the wind brought everything back to him, filling in the gaps of his groggy memory. The clear feeling of the mana stored in his staff, and Cyrril, about thirty cubits above in the tree was reassuring.

“I said what are you doing here, buddy?”

Caspian turned and looked up into the top of his hood, in the general direction of Cyrril and the voice, still not paying attention to the man or language. All he could sense was Cyrril’s agitation at being disturbed from sleep. The man spoke a third time, and Caspian was chagrinned to remember that he had forgotten to refresh his memory of the language he had learned while he spent two years here in one of their colleges: right now was not the time to do that either. Caspian pushed his hood back enough to see out, and rubbed his head. A young man in brown clothes and a round brimmed hat stood at his feet.

“I just traveled in from my home.” Caspian doubted the man understood his language anymore than Caspian understood the man’s. He stood and stretched, yawning wide, and tossing back his hood. He then opened his cape and coat, and shook the opening back and forth to air it, and him, out a bit.

The man stood and watched. A device on his belt squawked, and a voice came from it. The man pulled the box from his belt, and held it to his mouth, talking into it.

“Looks like a vagrant. If he speaks English, he is either too whacked right now to understand, or a good actor. Doesn’t seem dangerous, though.”

“Bring him on in. At least until we can determine for sure who and what he is.”

“Copy that.”

He put the box back on his belt. “All right pal. Let’s go for a walk.” He took Caspian’s arm in a solid grip as he spoke, and gently directed him down the hill.

Caspian thought better of his instinct to argue. At least until he knew where he was. He figured it was better to be thought debilitated, than criminal. They walked a distance on a game trail, and then crossed onto a hiking trail. This was narrow enough to cause them to walk single file. Caspian was put in front. After a bit of distance was covered, they came to a dirt road. A large vehicle was parked just off the road, by the trailhead. Seeing this, Caspian was delighted. By the general condition of the vehicle, he had a good idea of where he was. And looking at the alphabet on the side, he was all but sure of it. But it had been nearly ten years since he had been here, and his memory of the language was still a bit fuzzy.

The man opened one of the rear doors on the metal transport. He helped Caspian in, and buckled him into a restraint harness. As he did this, he noticed Caspian’s knives, and crossbow.

“Stupid.” The man muttered. He then pulled Caspian back out.

“Put your hands against the truck.” He turned Caspian to face the vehicle.

Caspian had been searched rarely enough that he was not sure what to do. The man was still being patient, but forceful. He put Caspian’s hands against the side of the vehicle, and forced his legs apart, so that he was leaning over a bit. He then pulled Caspian’s cloak and then his coat aside, and removed Caspian’s belt. He patted the vest down, and dug into its pockets checking for weapons. The man also removed Caspian’s food sack and water bag. He then found the knife on Caspian’s wrist and removed it. He left all this on the ground as he again put Caspian back in the vehicle.

The man put all Caspian’s stuff in the rear compartment, and walked around the far side of the vehicle. He then climbed in and sat at the controls. Caspian watched with some interest, as his memories slowly worked their way back to him.

The man operated the vehicle along the road and off the mountain. He crossed one valley and into a second. Here he pulled into a small cleared area around a medium sized house. A large metal frame tower with a watch house at its top connected to the house.

Caspian was helped out of the vehicle and into the house by the man. He took Caspian into the main room and sat him on a chair against a wall. The room was longer than it was wide, a short wall running across the long way with a counter on top of it. This side of the counter had several pieces of domestic furniture scattered about it. Two desks and a table were on the other side of the counter. Several objects and devices were scattered across these, many of them duplicates of each other. A woman, doing something to a flat box of some kind while watching another tall thin box, sat at a desk. A man stood at the table, and drew on a chart with several drafting implements scattered about him. He appeared to be plotting something. A large dog, with short brown and black fur sprawled under one of the windows. It noticed their entrance, but made no other move from where it lay. Its large pointed muzzle and triangular ears showed it to be quite alert, though currently harmless.

The people talked a bit and then the man that brought Caspian went outside, and came back with his things. These were placed on a desk behind the counter. The first man then began writing on a pad of paper.

Caspian still had not had breakfast, and was feeling quite dehydrated. And looking at the sun, he figured it was mid-morning or late afternoon. Either way he was hungry and thirsty.

“Mind if I eat something?” He spoke in his native language, knowing that he would not be understood.

The map man and the first man both looked at him. Caspian reached carefully into one of his vest pockets, and pulled out a chunk of jerky. Not filling, but enough to take off the edge. He chewed on this while these people decided what to do. He also carefully retrieved a water skin from across the counter and quickly sipped it dry.

008 - Getting Local Help

Caspian listened as the people here talked back and forth, and quickly recognized particulars of the language. The dialect was a bit off, as was the vernacular. But the language was the one he had learned. Caspian reached into another pocket in his vest. From this he pulled a small stone big enough to pinch between his thumb and two fingers. Nonchalantly he worked the stone back and forth in his hand, concentrating on his memory recall techniques, and on the time he had spent on this planet.

The rangers had evidently decided to just let him sit there until he did something. After an hour of their banter Caspian was beginning to understand the conversations, and the script on the posters and maps that hung on the walls. Then a need hit him. Time to see if his recall was right. He cleared his throat.

“Where shall I locate the lavatory?”

The rangers turned as a man and looked at him. The german shepherd lifted his head in notice at the movement. The one at the map returned to it. The first one Caspian met went back to his paperwork. This left the woman.

She pointed her thumb at a doorway behind her. “Second on the left.” She then went back to the computer she was doing something with.

Caspian stood, took off his cloak, and coat and cargo vest. He left these all on the chair. Then he walked into the indicated doorway. It had five closed doors, two on either side with one at the end. The dog followed. Caspian was not fully sure of what the woman had said, but guessed correctly.

The lavatory brought clear memories back, mainly at how efficient they were compared to where he lived. He finished, spending several moments washing his hands, and rinsing the several days’ growth on his face. Caspian found the fresh water quite enjoyable. He returned to his chair feeling much better.

“Now, how about lunch.” He reached over the counter to where his stuff was. The paranoia of the world also had returned forcefully, earlier. So he pushed his belt and things aside, and dumped his food sack out. He quickly put what he did not want back in. Caspian started into a piece of fruit with his fruit knife. That reduced to a core, he picked up a meat roll and munched through it, while sipping at his water skin.

The rangers intermittently watched him as they worked. Finally the map man rolled his map away and put his tools in a drawer. He then disappeared down the hall and through the door on the end.

Caspian had sat for a while, when the Ranger who had left came back into this area of the building with a plate of sandwiches, and pitcher of liquid. The three of then started in on the food.

The first one turned to Caspian. “You are welcome to one, if you like.”

He indicated the platter of sandwiches on the counter, and the cups next to the pitcher.

Caspian had to dig a moment to remember. “Thank you.”

Caspian took one of the sandwiches, and poured himself a cup of red liquid. The sandwich was two slices of a soft, light brown bread, with a yellow paste between. In the paste, Caspian found bits of crunchy vegetable, some agreeable spices, and some small cubes of something he did not recognize. Combined with the food from his stash, it was quite satisfying.

Caspian felt that he had remembered enough words of the language. And that he had spent enough time sitting. He had a general idea of where he was, after looking at the maps, and listening to the language. And that allowed him to call in an unexpected marker. If he could just figure out how to. Only thing to do was ask. He leaned over the counter toward the first man, at his desk.

“How do I go about contacting a specific person?”

They all looked at him strangely for a moment. Then the map man spoke.

“Are you on something, pal?”

Caspian was not sure of what he had been specifically asked, but understood the general nature just by the tone. “No. I have been away for a while, and do not remember precisely how to contact my friend.”

“D’you know his number?”

“Number?”

The man picked up one of the devices from the counter, and put it down in front of Caspian. It had several arrayed sets of buttons, and a handle attached to a cord. A different cord attached to the back of the device and disappeared through a hole in the counter.

“His phone number.”

Caspian remembered now. “Ah, no. I do not remember. His name is Alistare Kevan. He is an Adjudicator, if I remember correctly.”

“Where?”

“In a court of law, I presume. That is usually where one does that.”

The man was obviously being as gentle as he could, but was loosing patience. Caspian understood and felt frustrated. If he had just reawakened his memory before coming to this magically dead place, he would have been more able to get along.

“What city does he live in?”

Caspian had to think about this, wishing he had written down and kept this information. “Um… Sack…Sacro…Sacra…um…”

The woman looked up. “Sacramento?”

Caspian looked at her. “That is it. Sacramento.”

Caspian just stood and looked at the man. He could remember using the phone many times when he was last here, but its use in this case was still beyond him.

The man let out an exasperated sigh. He then took the phone back. He pushed one button, and the little box began to make a humming noise. He then pushed a bunch of other buttons, causing various tones to be emitted. He then picked up the handle and held it to his face, with one end over one ear and the other end to his mouth. After a few moments he spoke.

“I need some numbers in Sacramento…Yes. One moment.” He picked up a pencil and pulled a pad of paper to write on. He then looked at Caspian.

“What is the name of your friend?”

“Alistare Kevan.”

“And he’s a judge.” He wrote this on the top of the paper.

“I think that is what you call it.”

The man turned his attention back to the handle. “Yes ma’am. I’m looking for the work and residence numbers of an Alistare Kevan…I’m told he is a judge…No, I don’t know which court.” He made a face slightly exasperated. Then listened again. “You’re sure…Yes Ma’am.” He then spelled out the name as he wrote it. “Yes ma’am…I’m ready.” He then began writing numbers on the piece of paper. “Thank you. Good afternoon.”

He pushed a lever in the spot for the handle on the box. Then he began pushing buttons, referring to one of the two sets of numbers on the pad. He listened to the handle for a bit. “I’m looking for an Alistare Kevan. Yes. One moment.”

He then held the handle out to Caspian. “Your friend’s home.”

Caspian took the handle and put it too his face. He could hear a bit of static as something happened at the other end. Then a vaguely familiar voice came on.

“This is Judge Kevan.”

Caspian spoke in his native language. “Alistare. This is Caspian. How have you been?”

There was silence for a bit. “Caspian?” Then a familiar language. “What are you doing on Terra?”

“I would rather explain that in person. But I have no idea where I am, or how to get around. I need your help.”

“Tell me from the beginning.”

“I traveled in along the ley lines last night. This morning I was awakened by a young man in a brown uniform. We walked to his vehicle, and he brought me to this house, where there are another man and a woman in the same brown uniform. I have had a bit of trouble remembering the native language.”

“Let me talk to one of the people there.”

Caspian handed the phone back to the first man, as the map man had left. “Talk.” Caspian felt stupid for not bring more eloquent. But the idea got across.

The ranger took the phone and put it to his ear. “This is Ranger Smith. Yes sir. Yes sir. Nothing so far, but we have not really been able to question him. O.k. We are in the Lassen Forest. Get off the 5 at Red Bluff, take the 36 up to 89 North. Keep on 89 North for about nine miles, to a marked Forest Service Road on the right. Five miles up that road and you are here. Yes sir, we can do that.”

He held the handle out to Caspian.

Caspian took it. “Hello again.”

“I will be up to get you sometime after dark. Just stay put, and be friendly. Keep your dragon out of sight.” The line then went dead.

Caspian looked at the handle for a moment, and put it carefully back on the phone. “I am to stay until he comes.”

009 - No Help, Some Help

“Yes. Can you tell us your name?” The man sat at the desk, his hands on the keyboard of the computer.

“Caspian.”

“Last name?”

“Not that means anything here.”

“Date of birth?”

“Fourth day of the month of Akil, seventh year of the reign of Sharius of Silvona.”

“In English.”

“That was in English. I am not sure how to reconcile the calendars.”

“Skip it. Citizenship?”

Suddenly Caspian remembered a similar scene being played out more than ten years prior. And how he finally got that person satisfied. “I am native of Silvona, and previously came to this land for study. I learned your language then, but have not had cause to use it since.”

“Great. Another kook.”

“Excuse me?”

“Pal. There are only two kinds of people in this area. Natives and kooks. You don’t talk like a native.”

Caspian took a moment to digest what he had just been told. “I think it might be best if I just sit aside quietly.”

The Ranger punched a few buttons on his keyboard while looking at his larger box. Then moved a smaller device around and pushed some buttons on it. He then turned away from it, toward Caspian’s gear. He looked it over a bit, picked at it a bit, and left it be.

Caspian was glad he did not carry anything particularly nasty. For the rest of the day, he just stayed quiet and out of the way. His stuff was hung in a closet, out of the way, but otherwise left alone. As the afternoon progressed, the rangers came and went in several different vehicles; the dog moved a bit and went in and out at its leisure. They all seemed to regard Caspian as an unwanted guest; too polite to cause trouble, but a nuisance just by his presence.

Dinner happened, and a new ranger showed up from somewhere else in the structure. Probably had been up in the tower, Caspian figured. After dinner, two of the rangers left in the vehicle that had brought Caspian here. They did not return before Alistare Kevan finally showed up in his vehicle.

The time had not been a waste. Caspian had remembered about clocks, and how time was reckoned. He had remembered most of his language training in the local tongue. Cyrril had communicated that he was fine, and had Caspian’s staff nearby.

Judge Alistare Kevan dressed in a three-piece suit and wingtips entered the room from outside in a huff. Built heavy, he stood a head shorter than the average man. Barely contained power accented his every action. He looked a bit more than slightly annoyed, spotting Caspian faster than he did the desk.

“I’m Alistare Kevan, here for him.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Caspian, who had stood up.

The ranger looked up from her book, over her glasses. “Right.” She took her foot off the desk and reached for her keys. “Let me get his stuff.”

She opened the closet, pulled Caspian’s things out, and dropped them on the counter. The other ranger just sat and watched, over his newspaper.

Alistare turned, pinning Caspian to the wall with a glance. He then spoke in Caspian’s native language. “Next time, give me some warning. Fortunately for you, my schedule was easy today.”

He turned back to the ranger, and signed the release, and switched to English. “Thank you. Was he any trouble?”

“’Been quiet since calling you. Have a good drive, and take the second mile easy. The deer are near the road about this time.”

“Rush hour on Saturday night.” Alistare turned and walked back out, leaving Caspian to pick up his stuff and follow.

Outside a large, low slung coach sat with its lights on and motor running. It was longer, and more massive, than some of the vehicles the rangers had parked nearby. Alistare just climbed into the driver’s side, leaving Caspian to figure the door handle. Shortly, Caspian was in the passenger seat, with his stuff piled on his lap.

They rolled out, Alistare expertly guiding the coach back onto the dirt road. Caspian had paid attention to the operation of the vehicle this morning. He noticed that Alistare seemed to drive with a total disregard for the conditions around him.

They drove out of the valley, and stopped. Alistare turned on the internal lights and turned to Caspian  speaking in English, evidently through speaking in their native tongue. “Where’s that dragon of yours?”

Caspian called out to Cyrril’s mind. The little beast was coming, but had been close by the station, and left behind.

“Cyrril is behind us. He should catch up shortly.” Caspian responded in his native language.

Caspian took the moment to put his stuff in the back seat, and to admire the interior of the coach. The leather showed a fair amount of use, and good aging. The wood trim had been well polished, if it was real. The little shield with two sprigs of leaves wreathing either side was a symbol that Caspian vaguely remembered signified a fine quality vehicle.

“Quit using that language. You need to get used to English again.” Alistare unlatched his seatbelt, climbed out, and went around back to lean against the back of the car to wait in the cool mountain air.

Caspian followed, closing the door behind him.

Alistare Kevan had been living on this planet for most of the last thirty years. A child of aristocrats in a city-state, he immigrated after attending school, married a local wife, and left Tywacomb behind. His wife knew all about his history, and had even been to Tywacomb a time or two. Now they sponsored ‘students’, and helped ‘tourists.’ As such, they had very little patience with trouble makers. She was just as impatient with idiocy as her husband. That he was a judge in a busy city was both advantageous, and threatening.

Caspian had worked with them years before, when he had come for a few years of schooling. He had made some definite impressions then that had evidently not worn off.

“What brings you a sixth of the way across the galaxy, Caspian?”

“Elves, worked up about a prophecy.”

“Which one?” Alistare had been a historian’s apprentice growing up. He knew of most of the major happenings for several hundred years back. Obscure prophecies were light reading to him. For elves to get worked up was more of an oddity.

“The signs of the Chaos Bringer.”

Had he been drinking, Alistare would have choked and spit his drink all over. “What!?!”

“The elves of Nidear believe that one of their clan is the line head of the fifth generation half-elves. That she immigrated here over a century ago. Now I need to find the latest in that family. I had a half-day lead on some guys from Krogg, until this morning. Now, I don’t know where they are. It looked like a warrior and a spy would be coming.”

“Great. More strangeness that might have to pass before my court.” Alistare pushed his glasses up and pinched the bridge of his nose briefly. “Everybody is after the same people I presume?”

“Yes.” Caspian wanted to tell more, but felt too tired to deal with how Alistare would react.

For his part, Alistare could tell that Caspian was not yet recovered from his interstellar jaunt, and might not even be awake for most of the trip home. They just sat quietly, watching the stars, or the land. A slight breeze played among the scrub. Shortly Caspian alerted, and stood up. He held his arm up.

“Here.” He spoke in his native language.

In seconds Cyrril came flying up, and slapped the staff into Caspian’s outstretched hand. The little dragon folded its wings and held on as the staff stopped, then crawled down to Caspian’s shoulder as the arm was lowered.

Alistare stood up, and walked back around and got behind the wheel. Caspian carefully put the staff across the rear seat, and got in. Cyrril bounced off the front seat back and into the rear seat as Caspian closed the door, and put his seat belt on. Little more was said as they traveled.

010 - Sunday In Nevada With The Caplan’s

Rox woke up sore. After a long Sunday morning soak in her whirlpool tub, she got out and stood before the full-length mirror examining the damage. Every tournament she came home with a new set of bruises. Roxanne stood tall, thin, and curved only because she worked out, with brown hair that was destined to turn white before she turned forty five. Just like her mother, and grandmother.

Still sore around her ribs, Rox skipped a bra and put on an old tee-shirt, panties and shorts, and a pair of sandals. Steven had cooked breakfast and left it for her, before taking the dogs for their morning run. The kids were up and watching television in the basement. Rox took her breakfast, went down, sat with them, and finished her breakfast as they watched the Mormon Choir broadcast. She then gathered the dishes, and her children, and went back upstairs. The leftovers went in the dog dishes, the breakfast dishes went in the dishwasher, and the kids got dressed. Being twice-a-year Christians, watching the choir and reading from the bible as a family several times a week was all the religion they generally engaged in.

When the children came back, she led them across the backyard to the barn. Rox took them in the side door, and turned on the lights. Other women have a craft room, or sewing room, or some other private place to be alone and be creative. Roxanne had a garage in the barn behind her house. It doubled as a workshop and an auto shop where she kept the car she was currently working on, or getting ready to sell.

Alex and Diana opened the main doors, as Rox put on a jumpsuit and boots. Shortly the kids were also in jumpsuits. With their help she put the Camero onto the hydraulic lift and set about changing the oil and filters.

The feeling about something happening to her children still nagged at the back of Rox’s mind. So she wanted to keep her children close. Having them help her here was one way to do that.

Steven brought the dog’s home and found the garage open, with his car and Rox’s truck both gone. So, he closed the garage and took the dogs around the side of the house, through the gate, and into the backyard. Once off leash both dogs ran across the yard to the back fence, and the gate there. Steven opened it and the dogs chased around to the main doors of the barn.

Both dogs sniffed around, and made a nuisance of themselves in the shop. They had long since been trained to stay out of things that could cause trouble. The Camero was sitting on the gravel driveway, his Bonneville next to it, with the truck on the lift, Rox working underneath it.

Diana and Alex pulled off their jumpsuits and chased the dog’s back out into the backyard as quickly as they could.

“Don’t go out of the yard.” Steven just leaned against a work bench and watched his wife work.

Other mechanics had posters of naked and nearly naked ‘tool-girls’ on the walls of their garages, as well as posters and diagrams of cars. Most of Roxanne’s posters were from her various tournaments, or enlarged pictures of the cars and trucks she had worked on over the years. Except for one poster that always embarrassed Steven, when there was company.

For whatever reason, Roxanne’s grandmother liked butt-naked baby pictures. It was the classic pose, belly down on fur, from a ¾ view. The few times that they had gone to Nebraska to visit, Steven had been embarrassed by the progression of pictures that Grandma had in one hallway of her house. One of the rows was of Roxanne’s mother Margot, a butt-naked picture from each birthday until she had left for college, at 19. Plus a few as an adult, including one of Margot and infant Roxanne, for a total near 30. There was a similar row for Roxanne. Hers counted 19, with one each of her as an adult with each infant, last they had been there. All this was besides the pictures of Grandma, and Grandpa.

Then, over Steven’s objections, there had been three butt-naked pictures each of Diana and Alex. Steven couldn’t say they weren’t tasteful. He just didn’t think they were appropriate. What Steven had not known for some time was that Margot had a more complete collection, which she kept in storage in her own house. It included all of Grandma and Grandpa; everyone of Margot’s from every year of her life, which Grandma was ever trying to get; and the complete set of Roxanne for every year of her life until she got married, that Grandma was also after. At Rox’s request, in deference to Steven, Margot kept this entire collection put away.

When the last one of Alex had been taken, Steven had insisted that he take the picture himself. So they had selected a spot on a beach at Lake Tahoe, which was secluded. Once everything was set up, Rox sprung the trap on him, and proposed a butt-naked family portrait.

Steven had agreed to a single photo. Himself, Roxanne, 5 year old Diana, and 3 year old Alex; all butt-naked on a large fur at Lake Tahoe, the dawn coming over the mountains behind them. Steven had developed the pictures himself, to be sure to control distribution. There was one 4x6 in a photo album. But Rox had got hold of the negative, and sent a portrait size to Grandma and Margot, and had a poster size made, that now hung over the garage doors. She had returned the negative. Steven had then burned it.

The kids did not seem to mind the poster and Rox thought it was a good joke. Steven was glad it was here and not in the house on public display. On the other hand, what he and Rox had done after getting the kids into their bathing suits and sent to play was still a fond memory.

Steven always glanced at the poster then ignored it, and just sat and watched as Rox brought the truck to the ground and finished servicing it. She was still obviously sore, and would be for the next few days. But she had been through this enough times that the aches were not worth noticing. She finished and closed the hood, making sure to put the retaining pins in.

Of all the vehicles that Rox had built over the years, this truck was the only one she had kept for long, after finishing it. It was the one that she had done the most work on. And it reflected her personality the most of any of them.

Rox had always had a truck of some sort. Mainly to use to pull the flatbed trailer that the incomplete vehicles rode on. As time progressed, she noticed that the extended-cab trucks had become more prevalent. But as she looked them over, the existing and new ones did not suit her. Finally she read an article and followed its example. She chose the make and model of truck she wanted. She looked around for the right donor vehicles, and built herself a truck. It started as a 1986 square body 1-ton GM truck. This model did not come as an extended cab. The hardest part of constructing the cab was welding pieces from two separate cabs together, and getting it to fit over the factory gas tanks. Then she had to mount this on a custom frame. The rest was simply getting the pieces to fit.

She had decreed to herself that there would be no chrome on it. It would show itself for what it was, not for its decoration. Rox began to rebuild it from the bare frame, starting with the cab. The additions followed with a custom front bumper with winch, grill guard, push bars and more lights than a stadium. These continued past the over-built step bars, and the custom rear bumper with 8000 lbs hitch, to the heavy duty drive train. A moderately lifted suspension and slightly oversized tires added to the additions. The custom built extended cab on factory long bed wheel positions required a shortened bed with a light bar, with more lights finishing the outside. There were other things done to it, like a third gas tank, but most people never saw these. The thing was simple brute competence, with a gas-guzzling supercharged engine that Rox nicknamed ‘the toilet.’

Roxanne had rebuilt and restored other trucks since building this one, but had not ever considered selling it. She had begun to consider changing it to a modern diesel from the big-block gas engine. Or maybe constructing a four-door short-bed.

“That’s all of them. Fresh oil and filter, with all fluids checked and topped.” Rox removed her dirty gloves after pulling the lift arms out from under the truck.

Steven went around to the driver door and got in to back the truck out, and Rox guided him. He parked and leaned out the window as she walked over.

“Shall we take it for a drive?”

Rox leaned on the door. “Where to? You didn’t fill it up before coming home yesterday.”

“I didn’t clean the guns yet, either. We can start with the gas station. But I was thinking a picnic lunch at the beach, then maybe up to Susanville.” Steven did not have anywhere planned. He just liked to wander and see.