Children of the Source Read online

  General Carson stood and shook himself. “Hensley, there will be plenty of time to debate more of these ideas. Jamie, could you come to the fort with us? We have a problem with a couple of women who claim the same child. A deaf girl who can’t communicate well. I’d like you there as a friend of the court. Can you come?”

  5

  An hour later the chopper took us to the fort. Abe and Issac conned a ride. Fascinating to see the area from the air. Gives a whole different perspective. Kind of sets things in place so to speak.

  We set down next to Military Headquarters. Hensley stomped off without a word. I asked Abe and Issac to keep in touch. Going to the fort, the uncertainty, always made things exciting, especially for the children who seemed to have more flexible and imaginative minds. Abe and Issac nodded, grinned mischievously, and hurried off to explore the fort.

  Carson and Randolph accepted the salute of Will’s military aide Captain Leon Summer, a tall slim black man with a thin mustache and very military bearing. He nodded to me and we exchanged pleasantries. Everyone looked to the spacecraft.

  The fort bustled with new soldiery. Randolph mentioned he’d brought two undermanned companies of ninety men each. One was already mustering to move north to the fort at Fredonia on the Arizona Strip. Carson had assigned the reliable Lt. Colonel Jason Colt to patrol the Strip and Southern Utah. Colt did his job, earned a promotion, and Carson kept him as well supplied as he could.

  We went into Headquarters, and while Carson concerned himself with duties, I wandered over to a raised topography map showing the entire military region. I liked the raised relief for it showed the areas maybe in slight exaggeration, but it also showed the areas in ways most maps don’t. Perspective again. The map covered a wall area of fifteen by twenty feet.

  The trial was held in a small almost bare room. Three officers sat behind a single table. The two women each sat at a table facing the court. I sat off to one side by the officer’s tribunal.

  Brigadier General William Christopher Carson stood as President of the Court. He rose and addressed the court: “The problem we must solve is who is the mother of the young girl we will meet.” He turned to the guard at the door. “Please ask Lt. Shaffer to come in.”

  Shaffer looked forty-five. Actually he was ten years younger, and opted for an officers commission offered him by Carson after twelve years as a noncommissioned officer. Mustangers (merit promotions from the enlisted ranks) were common in the Army. Shaffer took the witness chair.

  “Please state your name, rank, and position.”

  “First Lt. William W. Shaffer, Commander Company B, First Battalion, Twelfth Infantry Regiment, assigned the Fifth Military Region.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant. Please tell the court what you know of this case.”

  Shaffer eased his lanky frame in his chair. “Twenty June I was conducting a sweep of the old airport area and Pine Del down 89A to Fry Canyon when I came on these two women fighting over the girl. Each claimed the girl as her own. The girl can’t hear or speak, but she kept pointing to the Williams woman wanting to get close to her.” He paused.

  The older woman jumped to her feet and shouted. “Liar! You goddamn liar! You and this woman have something going on and that’s why you’re saying this.” A feral cunning lit her eyes.

  The voice cut like a knife. “Mrs. Conners. Shut your mouth. One more outburst and I’ll have you bound and gagged.” Carson and the woman locked eyes and she turned away. If looks could kill. Carson turned to Shaffer. “What else happened?”

  “That’s pretty much it, sir. I couldn’t make an accurate judgment so I brought all three back to the fort.” Shaffer looked at Mrs. Conners distastefully, and shook his head.

  Major Lincoln Whitbe, a heavy-set black man, and Carson’s Chief of Operations, spoke, “Did the girl have any identification on her?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Any other questions?” No one had.

  “Hazel Conners, please take the stand.”

  The earthy face looked at General Carson. “I have no legal counsel.”

  “Mrs. Conners,” Carson said, “Consider yourself lucky you are being heard at all. Please take the witness chair.”

  “If I don’t?” Her glittering eyes searched his face.

  “Then the court will assume the girl in question belongs to Clara Williams,” Carson replied easily. Hazel Conners stalked to the chair.

  “Please state your name and where you live.”

  “Hazel Conners. I lived with my daughter in the Verde Valley. Until this creature,” she pointed to Clara Williams, “stole my Janet. I tracked the bitch here.” Everyone cringed. Clara went white.

  “We’ll get to that soon enough. You will curb your tongue when in this courtroom,” the general said. The expression in Hazel’s eyes never wavered. Reptilian intelligent glitter. “Mrs. Conners, please tell the court your side of the story.”

  “Very simple really. I was working in my garden when I heard a noise and turned. This ...This ...” she pointed a lean brown finger at Clara, “was running away with my Janet. Nobody does that. I left everything. Caught up with her at Pine Del. Near the airport road. Garden’s probably ruined.” She stopped.

  “Is that all?” Carson asked.

  “It’s enough and it’s the truth,” she said firmly.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Conners. You may take your seat. Mrs. Williams, please take the stand.”

  When she was seated, Carson said, “Please state your side of the story.” Carson gave up swearing people in long ago. People were going to lie or tell the truth as they wished.

  Clara Williams looked like a person trapped in a world not of her making. Just under thirty, she’d seen her share of misery or at least looked it. With strong clean features. I could tell she had certain rules she made and kept.

  “My daughter and I are nomads. Our community at Heber was over-run by jay hawkers nine months ago. We were left for dead. My husband disappeared. Probably taken for a slave. Been traveling from place to place trying to find him. That is until we were caught and sold as slaves to this woman. She worked us in her gardens and chicken runs. That was six months ago. Then I overheard her discussing selling Janet to white slavers out of Zig’s Hole. Janet’s beautiful and they’d sell her to a rich pervert to make a whore out of her. So we escaped and she caught up with us where the soldiers found us fighting.” She paused, tears running down her face and then blurted, “I can tell you all about Janet. Her scars, and how they happened. Please don’t let this woman steal her.”

  “How convincing.” Hazel sneered.

  Carson motioned to the armed guard at the door. “Ladies, please wait outside with Private Morrison.” As the door closed on the three, he ordered the girl brought in. She looked like a wild animal, eyes bright and darting. A questioning gutturals sound escaped her lips. Profoundly deaf. Carson smiled gently and motioned her to sit down. She was utterly beautiful, breathtakingly so. Anita Whitbe, the Major’s wife, sat down next to her. The child slipped her hand in Mrs. Whitbe’s hand.

  Major Whitbe spoke. “I think we can agree Clara is the mother. How do we prove it?”

  “Hazel has a short fuse,” I said. “Bait her perhaps.”

  Master Sergeant Larry Border, third member of the tribunal, said, “Conner’s invested a great deal of time and effort coming here. She considers the child her meal ticket.”

  “True,” Carson said. “Zig’s Hole.” Zig’s Hole sat where Clarksdale used to be. An outlaw town, in the Verde Valley below Flagstaff, it dealt in illegal weapons, slavery, drugs, prostitution, and everything else from gambling, and assassination to terrorism. It was claimed by Zig, the proprietor, any service, article, or person was for sale. Carson had destroyed Zig’s Hole three times, and each time Zig Holly had rebuilt. Jay hawkers based themselves close by or used Zig’s as a resupply base. “Linc, what’s intelligence say about Zig’s Hole?”

  “Still going strong, sir. G-2 has it there’s a detachment of Abraham Cielo’s
men taking up residence. Twenty fighters. Pretty reliable intelligence.”

  Abraham Cielo had carved a state out of Northern Mexico, recruiting mercenaries, and thumbing his nose at a helpless Mexico City. He’d controlled the area coast to coast for over ten years using terror, extortion, and every criminal activity imaginable. Considered a master of manipulation, he was on the move again. Now north into Carson’s territory. Major mistake. “Major Whitbe, when we’re done here, get with Colonel Randolph and plan an operation to destroy Zig’s Hole.”

  The guard opened the door and looked to General Carson waiting in silence. “Private?”

  “Sir, a report came in that Maria Beck, the herb lady, has been kidnapped. Funny, they said the jay hawkers sported red feathers in their hats. They headed south.”

  Whitbe said, “Cielo’s men use red feathers in their hats as their symbol.”

  “That settles it. Private, find Colonel Randolph. Have him report here. Thank you.” He turned to Whitbe and Border. “I didn’t think he’d have the nerve or stupidity to raid this far north.”

  Derek rushed in out of breath. “Yes, sir?”

  “Colonel, Abraham Cielo’s men have kidnapped Maria Beck, a lady who deals in herbs locally. Sounds like they’re headed for Zig’s Hole. I want you to take two companies of men, destroy Zig’s Hole, and bring back Maria Beck and any other unfortunates you find there. Cielo’s men wear red feathers in their hats. Coordinate everything with Major Whitbe. He can help you with whatever you need - planning, intel, supplies, weapons.” He studied the ceiling fan. “I want the place razed. It must not be rebuilt. Use your own judgment.” Carson smiled at the girl. “Anita, will you please escort Janet out for a moment?” They left.

  “May I accompany the expedition, General?” I asked. “Maria belongs to our community.”

  “Suit yourself, Jamie. It’ll be bloody. No quarter.”

  I nodded. “I know.”

  “We’ll finish with the women now,” Carson said. “Show them in.” Clara Williams sat on the edge of her seat. Hazel Conner’s eyes darted around the room and landed on General Carson. A hard thing. Iron. “This Court has had a difficult time making a decision. Since we can’t agree who is the real mother ... ”

  “You can’t steal my daughter,” Hazel screamed, rising to her feet, eyes feral, teeth bared. “No one’s gonna do that.”

  “General, do anything with my daughter. Put her with the orphans, but don’t let that woman have her.” Tears streamed down Clara’s face.

  “Seen enough, gentlemen?” Carson said.

  “Bitch, I’ll get you for this,” Hazel howled and launched herself at Clara. The guard took two bounding steps forward and grabbed the older woman. When she spun out of his arms, he neatly knocked her out with a punch to her jaw.

  “Thank you, Corporal,” Carson said, promoting him with a word.

  “Thanks, General,” the guard said. “What should I do with her?”

  “Put her in a holding cell. She can go back on the train that’s leaving tomorrow. Hate to do that. God knows what else she’s done.”

  Sending undesirables out of the territory on trains worked fairly well. The military regions had no prisons. Anything less than a capital offense was dealt with at the commander’s discretion. Carson’s standing order had them deported by train. If they returned, he hanged them. They rarely returned. There was a vast difference between theft by need and theft by greed.

  The General turned to Clara. “Your daughter will be restored to you immediately.” He opened the waiting room door and Janet raced into her mother’s arms.

  The greeting ended with Janet basking contently in her mother’s arms. “Jamie, Janet is deaf,” Anita said.

  Clara stared at me, eyes going wide. “You’re the Wizard?” I must have looked uncomfortable, because Anita and the officers laughed.

  “You blush so nicely,” Anita teased. I laughed.

  “Can you help Janet?” Clara asked.

  The girl turned and I knew the problem. “She has an arthritic condition which impinges on the auditory nerves,” I said. “Yes, we can help her.”

  “You’ll operate?” Clara asked.

  “No. With your permission my son, Laith, will do some healing. Believe me, he is good. If General Carson will provide an escort to Cheshire, it can probably be done today.”

  “Of course,” the general said. “We have to get Abe and Issac back. Clara and Janet can join our escort. It’s up to you, Clara.”

  She nodded. “We’ll come.” But though her mind was on her daughter, her heart lay wrecked on the image of a missing husband. A search that brought no relief, but also allowed hope to live in a desperate way.

  The meeting broke up, and I went out with Sergeant Border, Clara, and Janet to find Abe and Issac. We found them watching Ralph, the hangman, testing ropes on sandbag dummies. I corralled them, giving them a note for Laith and Judith.

  I smiled at Clara and Janet. “When you get to our community look around. You’re welcome to stay.” Clara nodded silently. I hugged Abe and Issac, and watched as they left with Sergeant Border and a five man escort.

  We moved out southwest across Roger’s Lake, a dry lake bed, and headed south to Secret Mountain, and then made advanced headquarters at the top of Hart Well Canyon. There Randolph sent night patrols to scout the approaches to Zig’s Hole. We managed to use the Indian ruins at Tuzigot National Monument for cover and a lookout for our patrols.

  It had taken two days to move the twelve miles from Hart Well Canyon to within striking distance of Zig’s Hole. We hiked under cover of darkness, and met an advanced patrol who’d captured a chicken farm less than a mile from the outskirts of town. Here we hid until Derek was satisfied with his plans. He personally checked all approaches to Zig’s Hole. Derek decided to use three units surrounding the town with a blocking force he would control.

  Zig’s Hole had sick feeling about it. I didn’t want to be anywhere around or even near it. Anything, people or situations, can be translated into a feeling, and this place with its people cried out its corruption, violation, and other suppurating wounds - psychological and spiritual. I could also see the bloodshed and destruction to come. By see, I mean know within. This had nothing to do with speculation. It was there.

  Derek looked at my face. “Maybe you shouldn’t have come.”

  “No. I didn’t come for the exercise. There’s a purpose to my coming,” I said.

  He eyed me silently, then turned to issue orders.

  Several nights ago I’d a dream of fire, a roaring fire that killed people in a valley. Their cries and pain reverberated through me, and I woke in a cold sweat. Something familiar kept needling me and I couldn’t place it. Over the next few days I received no more clues, but it nagged me. When General Carson mentioned Zig’s Hole something clicked about the dream and that’s why I asked to go along.

  The firing started just before dawn from all three sides of the town. Then the buildings started burning. The crackle of gunfire and screams of those hit scarred the dawn. It took fifteen minutes before the first people reached the river. They struggled through the waist deep water. Anyone with a gun died.

  Then it came like a snake of dancing light. Backfire. Some of Zig’s men lit the dry grass before our position. The fire raced toward us. I rose, arms extended, and faced the line of flames, pushing them together. The energies linked up. I began to pull the flames together until it formed a great pillar of fire fifty feet tall. I could feel conscious energies of the fire mingling with my consciousness. We joined in ways difficult to describe. The energies grew and the pillar grew, seemingly raging upward and outward. Then it held. I was one with the fire. Slowly the fire began to subside. When I felt everything release, the smoke from the dead fire rose from the entire line.

  I relaxed and let my mind rest. Randolph looked at me in disbelief, clearly shaken. I nodded. Derek swallowed and turned wordlessly to tend to his little war. The soldiers looked at me in fear and awe.


  The firing continued. People ceased fleeing to the river once they saw eight fighters cut down by the blocking force. It ended in the wash of dawn. The survivors were herded to the south side of the burning town. Maria Beck, short, white hair and creased face, stood there with her herb bag. We hugged. “Gawd Almighty, Maria. We were plum worried,” I said.

  “Na,” she said smiling, and got to work with her herbs.

  Randolph sent out patrols to look for stragglers, and set up a screen while he finished his work. We suffered three wounded, one seriously. Derek asked me to look at him. I found the soldier with Ted Stein, a medic trying to make him comfortable. A dark clotted bandage oozed blood around his left shoulder. “He caught a hatchet, Jamie. Lotta close quarter work this time.” He was breaking out a syringe to give the man morphine.

  I raised my hand. “Put it away. He won’t need it.” The soldier lay propped up, gasping in pain. I touched his forehead and he relaxed. Ted raised an eyebrow. Slowly I removed the bandage. The bleeding stopped as I constricted the blood vessels in the wound. The area around the wound heated up as I put a protective energy field on it. “Tore up some muscles, Ted.” I moved the muscle consciousness forward in time. The muscles began to knit. Ted stared, mouth open. When the muscles stabilized, I closed the skin.

  Ted looked stricken. “Will he be able to travel?” He gulped.

  I looked up from the sleeping soldier. “One day. He needs one day unless you put him in a litter. Best to rest a day. He won’t take a pack or be able to walk long distances. This is accelerated healing. The man is young and in good condition which saved his bacon. He’ll feel heat on his shoulder periodically in the days and weeks to come until the healing is complete.”

  I went back to Derek. He stood surveying the prisoners and the dead body of a huge corpulent man that lay prominently before his commanders. Zig Holly cast a pall of corruption even in death. The open mouth full of broken teeth, and the unshaven face with wide staring eyes almost seemed alive. I knelt and closed Zig’s eyes, but the lids fell open. Derek wrinkled his nose and spat.