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    Badlands
    Badlands
    Badlands
    Ebook456 pages6 hours

    Badlands

    By Lazette Gifford

    ()

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    About this ebook

    The small settlement on the world of Caliente is suffering from a devastating drought and the two segments of the population are coming to blows over the remaining water. Someone has to be daring to keep everyone alive and Carmen del Santo Palo, a leader of one of the gangs, is reluctantly taking up the challenge.

    Carmen is faster and smarter than a lot of the other gang members, but she's also begun to realize she has no future beyond being the leader of a gang. She'll see her people through the current round of troubles, but she doesn't know what will happen afterwards.

    Besides, the future may be the least of her problems. She has to survive first.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherA Conspiracy of Authors
    Release dateSep 15, 2013
    ISBN9781936507306
    Badlands
    Author

    Lazette Gifford

    Lazette is an avid writer as well as the owner of Forward Motion for Writers and the owner/editor of Vision: A Resource for Writers.It's possible she spends too much time with writers.And cats.

    Read more from Lazette Gifford

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      Book preview

      Badlands - Lazette Gifford

      Carmen ran her finger over the chalky silt inside the bowl of the fountain. The surface had gone more than dry; a thin layer of white dust already covered the water-eroded stones. As she felt the grit, she held her rage barely in check with short breaths, her eyes closed. Why had the Altos turned off the water to the Pueblo? Caliente faced a major drought on an already hostile world. They couldn't truly want more trouble.

      A hot wind off the desert blew across the open area of La Plaza carrying a fine haze of white dust in the air. Carmen listened for the sounds of others, but the place remained deserted this time of day.

      We shouldn't be here, Roberto said, standing over Carmen, a guard against any number of troubles that might search her out.

      Probably not, she agreed and brushed the dust form her hand. She didn't stand.

      Roberto made a soft sound of amusement though he never stopped scanning the deserted plaza and the boundary of graffiti-stained walls and stone archways leading into dangerous, shadowed alleys. She couldn't see his eyes behind the hood and visor, but she knew he wouldn't be lax. She and Roberto might attract human trouble; not many people liked her.

      Carmen had come to the fountain hoping for a sign of sanity from the Altos. Despite a long history of uneasy relationships between the two peoples of the settlement, she had never expected trouble of this magnitude. Apparently fighting for survival against nature wasn't challenging enough for Chief Magistrate Telia. He and his followers wanted war besides.

      Roberto shifted from one foot to the other, drawing her attention. Her stocky, dour companion wasn't used to standing in the full light of late afternoon, which made him wiser than her, she guessed. Almost everyone in the Pueblo slept through the hot daylight hours when the bright Caliente sun could kill the incautious. Carmen had chosen this unlikely hour to visit the fountain because gang leaders drew too much attention and she hoped to avoid a confrontation today. Rival gangs, with no better sense than the Altos, had started stirring up trouble of their own.

      Heat crazed, all of them.

      She glanced upwards at the glaring metal of the aqueduct, the last a symbol of a time when Caliente still held a good future. If only the stiginite mine hadn't gone dry. If only, if only -- this white, dusty, dying world was all she'd known. She couldn't wish for a different past or a better future. Nothing changed on Caliente except to get worse.

      This is a damned, stupid mess, she finally said. The words won a slight nod from Roberto, and no pause as he watched for trouble. And you know what's going to happen: The Altos are going to demand everyone agree to whatever terms they decide and the Pueblo Advisory Board will bow down and thank them. The gangs are going to suffer for this one. The Board doesn't give a damn if they sell us out.

      They'll sell everyone out this time: gang, merchant and dome worker. What has the Board ever won for any of us, except win a few pats on the back from the Altos for being such good Port Rats? This time though . . . He stopped and looked at her, pushing up the thin, dark plastic of his visor. She hadn't expected to see such despair in Roberto's face. Carmen, this time it's going to be more than the gangs who pay.

      We need to be strong to face the Altos. All of us in the Pueblo and not divided by our own old wars.

      Will that make a difference? Roberto asked. He glanced towards the Spires that stood over the Pueblo. The Altos lived there in the hallowed out hills, safe behind permaglass windows.

      Carmen looked away, her mood no better for the sight. The Altos were safe within their laser-carved maze of rooms while the Pueblo and the Rats took the brunt of Caliente's heat and dust. Maybe nothing will make a difference. After this -- She waved her hand towards the dry fountain -- I don't think there is any hope of reasoning with them.

      Roberto asked no more questions.

      Another warm breeze blew across the stone-laid ground, sending swirls of white dust into the small spirals children often ran chasing at night. In another hour, the people of the Pueblo would start gathering here, dry fountain or not.

      She didn't dare around with only a single guard, especially when members of other gangs started arriving. The five archways marked the time-honored paths belonging to each of the gangs, including her own Los Chicos de los Calles. Gang members, merchants and other Rats were going to be drawn to check the fountain. Relationships were already strained between one gang and another, and she didn't need to provoke trouble by waiting for them.

      She stood and looked at La Basilica de las Estrellas, the only imposing building in the Pueblo -- in fact, in her entire, dusty dying world. Serving as both church and the center of the Pueblo's society, La Basilica and the nearby fountain drew the people together. Here, in better times, even rival gang members might pass one another without insult.

      Tonight they would all be angry and unable to reach their true enemies, they would provoke one another instead. They couldn't fight Chief Magistrate Telia and the rest of the Altos who controlled the tech side of this world, including the computers that diverted water from the aqueduct. The fountain was only the outward sign of a bigger problem. The pipe from the aqueduct, bright in the sunlight, normally fed both the fountain and the underground network of pipes leading to the house wells. Without a new supply of water, some of those wells would soon go dry.

      Maybe the old wars between tech Altos and Port Rat workers wouldn't matter soon. If the rains didn't fall in Las Montanas and fill the high basin, the aqueduct would dry up and no button pushing would repair it. No hope, then. Carmen could see nowhere that didn't present some vision of trouble: The too bright sky, the glaring aqueduct high above them, the shadowed paths to the other gangs, and the forbidden Spires.

      Someone -- Roberto began, his hand reaching for his belt knife. She instantly drew her own weapon though she hadn't located the source of his worry yet.

      A familiar figure stepped from the Calle alley and Carmen slipped her knife back away, her mood already improved as Tajolito quickly made his way towards them. Tajo was easy to recognize, being the only True Blood in his generation; his long jet black hair, coffee skin and dark eyes made him stand out even in a crowd. Carmen, his older half-sister, wasn't even close to pure blood with her lighter brown hair and green eyes. Tajo was famous; she was infamous.

      Tajo moved quickly across the plaza, pushing back the hood and visor of his cloak, self-assured and not worried about who might see him. Tajo was a hunter, and her famous brother regularly traversed the deep desert all the way to Las Montanas, living off the land. Few people survived even a day out in La Tierra Blanca, the deadly wastelands beyond the Spires and the Pueblo. He didn't always come back without scars and she still had nightmares about him alone out there with armadillos and rock roots. Tajo said he often went to get away from the tension in the Pueblo. What could bring him back now, when trouble had been brewing before the Altos turned off the fountain?

      He slid to a stop in the shadow of the long pipe leading from the aqueduct to the fountain and gave a sigh of relief. Do you purposely make it hard for me to find you, Carmen? I looked all over the Calle barrio until Veronica said you'd taken off with Roberto, heading towards La Plaza.

      Did she, really? Carmen felt no surprise to learn she had spies within her own gang, though Roberto made a sound of annoyance.

      Veronica was trying to stir up trouble, Tajo reported. Not many others around, and they didn't look inclined to listen to her -- yet.

      Damn. No real surprise at the news, though still more trouble than she wanted. We better head back. We don't want problems from our own.

      I need to talk to you, Carmen, Tajo said, reminding Carmen that he had come looking for her. And I don't want anyone listening in the shadows. It's safer here.

      Carmen frowned. Tajo didn't usually have secrets, though everyone knew they had family problems, mostly between Carmen and her step-father. Did she need to add that layer of trouble to all the others today? She looked at her guard and gave a quick nod. Go on without us, Roberto. Keep things calm. I'll follow.

      Roberto didn't question the need for privacy or her orders, though he did glance to the archway leading to the Rojo's barrio, reminding her of the place where she would most likely find trouble.

      We both know Enrique isn't going to come out in this heat, Carmen said. The newest leader of the Rojos didn't do much of anything that didn't suit him. Unfortunately, he did take pleasure in making trouble for Carmen. Coming out in the heat of day isn't going to be top on his list.

      Roberto gave a snort of agreement and one last bow of his head before he turned and sprinted away, lowering the visor against the glare of sun on white stone walls. He slowed before he reached the Calle arch. No one ran far during the scorching days on Caliente.

      Tajo slid down beside the fountain, taking advantage of the growing shade as the sun drifted towards sunset. He looked unexpectedly worried. Carmen gave one last glance at the Rojo archway and settled beside him, reminding herself there had been no breach in the neutrality of La Plaza despite the heat and growing frustrations. Besides, they were close enough to La Basilica to take sanctuary there if needed. Carmen wasn't stupid or suicidal and she wouldn't risk taking on a belligerent band of Rojos with only her brother as backup.

      Though he would no doubt surprise them.

      Her nervous brother, and she knew he wasn't worried about the Rojos, either. He didn't tell her the problem straight out though. Instead, he handed over his canteen; common courtesy in the Pueblo, but a poignant reminder of the dry fountain behind them.

      She unstopped the lid from the armadillo shell covering, the shiny surface flashing with a sparkle of blue around them. Carmen sipped and washed away the taste of dust before she quickly replaced the cap. The loss of even a drop of water seemed criminal today.

      Tajo, has anyone asked your opinion about the drought and the lake? Carmen asked as she handed back the canteen.

      Mine? Why mine?

      You are the only one who has ever gone as far as Las Montanas. And you just got back last night so I think you might have some idea of what's going on out there.

      He gave a nod, still nervous. That's why I came looking for you, actually. Marcu and I decided maybe we better go take a look at things firsthand, which is why we went out across La Tiera Blanca in the worst heat wave in Caliente's history.

      Marcu? She didn't recognize the name, though more startling was the idea that he didn't go out there alone.

      You've never met him, Tajo replied, lifting his head to look into her face. He's the Chief Magistrate's son.

      Marcu Telia. For several heartbeats she thought he joked; then it took several more heartbeats for her to find her voice again.

      How long have been heading into the desert with the highest ranking Alto's son? She stared at him, appalled at the idea. He didn't look nearly bothered enough, his head tilted a little to the side.

      We've been making the trip together for about four years, ever since we ran into each other on the highest peak of Las Montanas, both of us heading for the lake.

      He watched her, his face calm while she felt such a surge of emotion that she couldn't separate her shocked surprise from the growing rage. Both left her inarticulate for several more breaths.

      This sounded insane, the idea of an Alto hiking off into the desert and up the mountains like Tajo did. Altos rarely even left The Spires to walk through the Pueblo and never any farther. "He was there? How? Why?"

      For the same reason I go. A hint of annoyance came to his face as his dark eyes narrowed, though he tried to hide the anger as he hooked his canteen back on his belt. Do you want to know what we learned on this trip, or are you going to start lecturing me about my friends?

      Friends!

      A few Rats have Alto friends, he replied, his shoulders stiffening and she thought he might stand and walk away. Carmen knew she was treading on dangerous ground, but her brain would not let go.

      "Si, si, she replied. But you and the C. M's son --"

      Carmen!

      "Lo siento. She fought for control and bowed her head in apology, burying her surge of emotions behind a rather flimsy wall. The news had made her crazy and she had even forgotten to keep an eye on the Rojo archway. She gave a quick look and then leaned back against the fountain. Tell me what you learned."

      He glanced at his hands, a gesture she knew too well. She wasn't going to like what Tajo reported.

      We went all the way to the lake, he finally said. The water level has dropped almost five meters. That's a hell of a lot of water, Carmen. And worse, there was no sign of rains coming. It was almost as hot up there as it is down here.

      Damn. I had hoped for something more encouraging, she admitted, ignoring everything else he had said.

      We had hoped so, too. Damned long, hard journey for nothing good.

      The we came too easily and didn't sound proper when it included her Pure Blood brother and an Alto of whatever rank. She managed to hold her tongue this time. In the larger scheme of problems, what company her eccentric brother kept wasn't very important. Nor was it, really, any of her business. He wasn't ten and she couldn't watch out for him, especially where he went without her.

      And maybe, knowing he didn't go out alone, was good. Maybe the nightmares would go away.

      I told Marcu I would talk to you about this and something else we've learned. I wanted a private conversation for many reasons. What's going on here in the Pueblo?

      There's going to be a hellish amount of trouble if the Rats don't start getting water real damn soon. House wells will be going dry in the next few days and once the children are affected, there is no one who will be able to keep control here, and certainly not the Pueblo Advisory Board. Maybe not even Padre Julias.

      The Altos plan to make water available to the Pueblo starting tomorrow.

      Finally! Sanity from the Altos --

      But the Rats will have to hike to the Spires to get it and they'll charge a credit for every two liters.

      Carmen's hand moved to her belt knife in an instinctive reaction to rage. She couldn't breathe. She stared at her brother, trying to find words to say while he waited in silence, though she could see his own anger in those dark eyes.

      "You learn this from your Alto friend?" she snarled, barely leaving the knife in the sheath.

      Yes, I did. His dark eyes glared for a moment but then he sighed and looked at his hands instead. He doesn't like this any more than we do. He even told his father as much.

      I bet he did. She folded her arms across her chest to keep from hitting something. Honestly, to keep from hitting him. Alto friends? Damn them all!

      I was in his room when Marcu hold his father what he thought. For a moment, Tajo's anger almost matched her own. Maybe she came too close to calling him a liar. Or perhaps he only defended his friend? She didn't really care. He and the CM don't get along, you know.

      She had heard rumors about their relationship, but hadn't paid attention; Alto business and what did she care?

      The CM didn't know I was hiding in the room, of course. We'd come in late last night and scaled the far side of the spires and sneaked into Marcu's rooms. His father doesn't know Marcu is a hunter. He thinks his only child has some woman down in the Pueblo where he spends so much time. That's allowed. And he's glad not to be constantly arguing with him.

      It's allowed as long as he doesn't bring the Rat tramp home.

      A few marry up to the Spires.

      Not as many as walk around down here with blond ninos, she replied and then she lifted her hand to quell the anger in his face. This was not an argument they needed to have. Never mind. You were in his room?

      "Si. We heard his father in the hall with some members of the Alto Council. I hid but Marcu decided to go out and not chance his father finding me."

      Oh, not good enough for him? she said with an unexpected little laugh, trying to lighten the mood. She didn't like to have Tajo mad at her. Well you are pretty enough, Tajo. And True Blood, too --

      You're just as bad as Marcu, he accused, and that comparison almost chilled her. Anyway, the CM told Marcu about his new plan for the water supply. Marcu told him it was the most despicable, money-grubbing and unethical decision he had ever heard.

      Damn. She had to admit respect or the words, even if she didn't like any Alto.

      The CM lost control and hit Marcu hard enough to knock him out. I barely had time to hide in the closet before the Councilors dropped him on the bed. The CM stood there and yelled at his unconscious son. Hit him a few more times, too. The man is totally irrational, Carmen.

      Damn. She wished she hadn't heard this about the CM. The man mostly stayed in the Spires and didn't bother them, dealing with his people and running the port tower for the Inner Worlds Council, which funded it.

      They didn't need another complication. She hadn't liked him, but she hadn't considered he might be worse than the usual Alto trouble. Everything kept looking worse, no matter where she turned.

      He scared the hell out of me, Carmen, Tajo admitted, brushing his hair back from his face. She wasn't used to seeing such worry in his face and she buried all the rage she felt about his friend, who maybe wasn't so much of a real Alto anyway if he went hiking across La Tierra Blanca with her crazy brother. I thought he was going to kill Marcu and there was nothing I could do to stop him without getting killed too -- and probably starting a war. Marcu says his father and many of the other Altos are really scared. The Inner Worlds Council is considering cutting funds to the port. That and the drought is driving his father crazy. Marcu said so, but I didn't really believe him until last night.

      Carmen leaned against the warm wall, trying to factor this new and unwanted revelation into the rest of the mess. She didn't like knowing the situation could get even worse. The IWC might cut funding to the port? Those credits allowed the Altos to buy some luxuries, including manual labor from the Rats, who in turn used the credits to buy needed supplies from local merchants and even from Altos.

      Caliente was the only remotely habitable world in this sector, which was why the IWC sent enough credits to keep the port running for emergencies. They were relatively close to the Aldebaran Station, which meant those people could evacuate to Caliente if they had trouble. There had never been such an emergency, though.

      The news of the CM's unreasoning tantrum would be a more immediate problem and even helped explain the insanity of turning off water to the fountain. He was the third generation of Telia to hold the post and each worse than the previous one. However, they kept out of everyday Rat business . . . until now.

      "I stayed long enough to make certain Marcu was all right, then climbed down the far side of the spire. I came looking for you -- and here we are.

      A credit for every two liters of water? Even those who make a reasonable income in the Pueblo won't be able to afford that for long, Tajo. And those who have only occasional work are going to be worse off. We might to okay in the gangs for a while since we pool resources, but that's not going to help anyone else.

      Even if the Rats find enough credits to buy water, two liters won't last long in this heat, Tajo added. Besides, the Altos don't need our few, meager credits. Nearly every Alto family has a least one civil servant paid by the IWC and others are in the Port Guards.

      Maybe they're trying to think ahead. The Altos want all the creds they can get because if the drought continues, we'll qualify for resettlement and the population isn't large enough to give us an entire new world, right? That's what Padre Julias said. She glanced towards La Basilica, wishing for other answers. We'll be shoved in some other settlement, and those credits could be the only power the Altos will have.

      "Maybe, but it won't work for long. If the rains don't come, we're going to be too poor to keep paying long before they move us off world. The IWC might step in to help the Rats, if we could get word to them. We'd only be able to do that if a trade ship comes by because we'll never get a chance to send out a message through the Alto's system."

      Carmen glanced up at the glaring white sky and the metal aqueduct pipe gleaming brightly above them. The drought could end tomorrow and it won't matter, Carmen said. They turned the water off. What makes you think they'll ever turn it back on? There's going to be real trouble this time, Tajo. The Chief Magistrate must realize we aren't going to pay without protest.

      I don't know what he, or most of the Altos, think. Marcu and a few of his friends have disagreed with them over other things, but life's been tense in the Spires since the drought began and the monitors at the lake showed the water dropping. The Altos know they're going to be just as bad off as the rest of us if the rains don't come to Las Montanas. Carmen, what's going to happen now?

      If the Altos don't open the water pipe to the Pueblo? If the rains don't come? Either way, the gangs are going to find something more important to fight than each other.

      That go for your Calles, too?

      She smiled, probably brighter than he expected. If they want to take up the war, I won't stop them.

      "Of course you won't stop them. I wondered if you were going to lead them into trouble."

      Lead them? Trouble is coming for us, Tajo. I won't have to go hunt for problems and none of us are going to escape it this time.

      People tell me you've held the Calles so long because you're faster and tougher than the rest of the gang, he said, tilting his head as he looked at her again. They don't want to admit that you're also smarter, and not just smarter than some of the punks who follow you. You're not looking for a few years of glory before you turn the Calles over to someone else. You want to make the kind of change that lasts beyond your lifetime.

      She hadn't realized Tajo understood so well. No one else did. The Calles certainly didn't and the people outside the gangs didn't want to.

      Don't give up all your hard work, Carmen. Don't let the Altos push us back into the old wars among ourselves. That's how they win. If the gangs keep fighting each other, no one will be strong enough to stand up against them. You're the first gang leader to get notice even from the Pueblo shop owners. They know if you say you'll do something, you'll still be there tomorrow to do it.

      But none of them trust me for those same reason, she replied. I've held on to the power for too long. Well, we can't change any of it now. The Calles are my people and they've stood with me for a long time, Tajo. I'm not going to abandon them when they really need me. Most of them are too young, you know. They don't see the far picture and they think going in and taking some Rojo territory is the epitome of success. I've been holding them back and maybe that will win me some points with the other gangs now that we need it. I would hope the others will join with us when we face the Altos.

      Rats have thrown themselves against the Spires before and we've never won. We don't have the power to push them out of their holes, but they have the power to obliterate the Pueblo if they think they can do it and make the IWC think it was all in self-defense. No gang's fought more than an occasional skirmish in more than a decade, Carmen. We thought that was progress . . . But now I think we're even less prepared for an outright war.

      She didn't want to say there had been more trouble within the Calles lately. She didn't want to admit that she might not be able to stop them even if she wanted to.

      The blinding white sun slipped behind the tip of the Spires and cast the first long shadows of night. The Pueblo would awaken soon. The Altos ruled the daylight in the Spires, but the night belonged to the lowlands. Even the drought couldn't stop the people from gathering and Carmen didn't want to be here when the others arrived and ruin their night with her anger and frustration. They would be troubled enough, seeing the water still turned off.

      Tajo's news about the lake and the charge for water did give her focus, though. She knew where to turn her attention and wasn't to head back to the Calle barrio. Not yet.

      I'm going to see Padre Julias tonight before word of the Altos' plan gets out. She stood, brushing white dust from her hands and leaving lighter streaks on her bleached and much-mended beige pants. She grabbed her battered cloth pack from the ground and swung it over left shoulder. You want to come along, Tajo? Or do you need to sleep?

      I'll sleep in the sun. He held out his hand, his smile gone and his dark eyes troubled again. We have serious work to do tonight.

      She took his hand and pulled him to his feet. He stood gracefully, a full head taller than her and lean from the hard life in the desert. Carmen always felt bulky and ungainly around him, but he was never unkind to his less-than-perfect older half-sister.

      Carmen turned away from the setting sun and looked past La Basilica. The single tower of the port already showed a scattering of blue and yellow lights within the iron cage where the Alto Port Guards kept watch. Beyond the port stretched La Tierra Blanca, the lifeless, empty desert. The aqueduct stretched past the port and into the desert, a marker that led all the way to the highland lake which fed the settlement.

      The real curse of Caliente was that there was no chance of making a settlement close to the life-giving water. The area was all crags and hardstone, as well as abundantly stocked with armadillos and rockroots, the most vicious of Caliente's native life forms. The original engineers, soldiers and laborers who went to begin work on the aqueduct nearly perished when a sandstorm cut them off for ten days. Two hundred who went to the lake and only thirty-four had survived.

      And they'd had lasers pistols.

      Altos and Rats stayed huddled around the port with too few resources and too much animosity. The Rats fought hard to survive and the damned Altos kept pushing for more.

      This time the Rats would have no choice but to push back. She feared they were in for a bloody war.

      Chapter Two

      Shadows grew quickly across La Plaza, the Pueblo's favorite meeting spot at night. The first groups of people appeared; anxious and arriving early, and like Carmen, hoping to find the fountain running again.

      She and Tajo had worse news, but Carmen wasn't going to be the one to tell them.

      A band of five Peligros stepped past their archway and into La Plaza. She cursed softly and turned towards La Basilica's double doors, hoping to avoid any confrontation with the other gang. La Plaza was supposed to be neutral territory, but there had been some unfriendly incidents lately.

      Part of her didn't want to walk away though. A personal fight appealed to Carmen when she had so many other frustrations and no easy way to deal with any of them. She was damned fast and like to prove it sometimes. Maybe she could find a Peligro or two later.

      They reached La Basilica without trouble. The three-story structure, all domes and round, looked exotic amid the square blocks and knife-sharp edges that dominated the settlement. Blue light cubes illuminated the high cross, a beacon for believers in the darkest night.

      Carmen and Tajo entered the double doors and into the sanctuary's interior where shielded lights imparted a soft glow to everything. The building had always seemed alien to Carmen and not connected to the harsh life she'd always known.

      The outer hall stood empty and the daily mass wouldn't start until nearly dawn. This was the best time to come to the padre with problems. Carmen pushed open the inner door and started down the long aisle, once more feeling belittled by the sheer proportions of the interior.

      The congregation -- shopkeepers and gang members alike -- donated work from their hearts and hands to beautify the interior of the church. They had made everything from the hand-carved biblical visions in the vestibule to the hand-woven vestments of the padre. Rats brought all the exotic colors into the building that they lacked in their dry, drab world outside. Those people, like Carmen, who no longer attended mass could still feel attachment to this center of their world. There wasn't much beauty anywhere else in the Pueblo.

      She and Tajo passed pews carved from stone, all of them with angel-wing reliefs on the edges and biblical designs etched into the backs; visions from another world to which they still tried to hold.

      The finely carved Santos stood in alcoves along the wall and at the far end of the aisle stood the Cristo and more Santos guarding the altar. Sometimes they appeared so real she thought they might be looking back from heaven.

      A shame they weren't any more help than the Inner Worlds Council or the Pueblo Advisory Council. Carmen wanted to truly believe again. Life had been easier when she could look to God for help and trust he listened to her.

      When they reached the altar they both knelt and crossed themselves: an old habit, a whisper of belief and a moment's peace.

      God have mercy! A rich, deep voice called out from somewhere to the right. The two of them, together? Shall I survive such an honor?

      Carmen grinned as Padre Julias moved from the rectory doorway and crossed to them. The relentless Caliente Sun had tanned their Padre since she last saw him. The man often roamed through the Pueblo, visiting the ill and injured, even in the stifling heat of the afternoons. He also hadn't gotten those barely concealed muscles from silent meditation in some dark cell. Padre Julias helped wherever he was needed.

      He held out his hands in a gesture of greeting, and Carmen felt like a wayward child still welcomed into her favorite uncle's casa.

      Taller than Carmen, but shorter than Tajo; the Padre looked up to one and down to the other, his brown eyes narrowing with worry.

      May we speak in your office? Carmen asked softly, knowing how well sounds carried in this building.

      No one went to his office without a serious cause. He cast one pleading and worried look at the Cristo and Santos above the altar before he signaled them to follow. They walked back to the rectory doorway where the ornate metal gate stood open. The short corridor beyond led past three doors to another, even more elaborate gate which remained closed to outsiders. Past that portal stood the sacred retreat for the church's holy community of nuns and brothers, a small circle of private shrines and cells. Only a dozen people remained in residence there and the church could barely support them.

      Two of the regular doors led to classrooms where Pueblo children received what education the church could provide. Almost all Rat children could read and knew computer basics, though they worked on outdated, almost ancient, models. They also learned about Mother Earth and the other worlds, which Carmen grew up to think was an unnecessary torture. No Rat had the

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