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“Yes.”

Confused, but not about to antagonize the big man by making an issue of the request, Carson leaned back against the stone wall of the cave and said, “If that’s what you want, that’s what you get.” He paused. “Let me see. Where should I begin? I attended school seven days a week every day of the year until I turned twelve, then I went to work in a factory—”

“One moment,” the Shadow interrupted. “Tell me about your parents.”

“Okay.”

“Your natural parents.”

Carson’s forehead knit as his perplexity increased. “I never knew my natural parents. You must know that all Technic children are taken from their natural fathers and mothers right after birth and given to surrogate parents who then raise them.”

The Shadow nodded slowly, his features inscrutable. “I’d heard something to that effect. Explain the reason to me.”

“I’m no sociologist. I don’t know if I could,” Carson said.

“Do your best.”

The corporal concealed his annoyance at being asked about such trivial matters, and launched into an explanation. “As best I understand it, the leaders of our glorious city decided decades ago that having kids raised by their natural parents reduced the kids’ effectiveness later as productive citizens.”

“How?”

“All that emotional crap got in the way. Instead of wanting to be on the job twelve hours a day, those raised by their own folks always wanted time off to be with their relatives and families on days off called holidays.”

“So you were raised by surrogates.”

“Yep,” Carson said. “Great surrogates they were too. Why, they let us spend a half hour with them five days a week.”

“How marvelous. And what were you doing the rest of the time?”

“I was either in day-care or school. Compulsory day-care starts at six months of age and continues until three. Then every Technic child is committed to the custody of the school.”

“How many hours did you spend at school daily?”

“Twelve.”

“The same number you’d later spend on the job.”

“Yeah. So?”

“Did you eat your meals at school?”

“Of course. All food was furnished by the government.”

“Then you only went home to sleep, basically?”

“More or less,” Carson conceded, and grinned. “But we did get to see our surrogates like I told you.”

The man in blue bowed his head and sighed. “What an atrocity,” he said softly.

“What are you talking about? Everyone in Technic City loves the way things are.”

With surprising suddenness the Shadow’s head snapped up. “I was told differently. Several friends of mine encountered one of your illustrious Directors in Green Bay, and he revealed that a resistance movement has sprung up.”

Carson stiffened. He’d heard about the Director of the Science Division, and the rumor that Darmobray had gone to Green Bay, Wisconsin, to conduct highly classified experiments and been slain by several Warriors.

The Warriors!

“You’re one of them!” Carson blurted out, stabbing a finger at the Shadow.

“One of whom?”

Carson took a step forward, insight flushing his countenance with excitement. “You’re one of the Warriors, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“What’s your real name?”

The man in blue stood, slinging the carbine over his left shoulder as he did. “I chose the name Yama.”

“Yama?” Carson repeated. “Never heard of you. I did hear tell about Blade and that gunman, Hickok. Are they here with you?”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Yama rejoined.

“Like what?”

“I ask the questions.”

The hard-edged declaration caused Carson to wince as if struck and to move back against the wall. “Hey, I didn’t mean to pry. I was just curious, is all.”

“And you know what curiosity did to the cat.”

Carson nodded and gulped, terrified by the unexpected fire in the big man’s visage. Be very careful, he chided himself, or he’ll snap you in half like a fragile twig. Carson wished he could escape and get word to his superiors. They’d undoubtedly bestow extra food and entertainment credits on anyone who could confirm the presence of a Warrior in the vicinity of Technic City. Those extra credits would enable him to buy real food for a change, a hamburger even or a hot dog, anything instead of the usual army diet of fried worms and baked beans.

Yama clasped his hands behind his back and gazed out the entrance into the distance. “I suppose I shouldn’t hold your curiosity against you.

Without a sense of inquisitiveness, humankind would never have established a base on the moon, never have journeyed to Mars. Curiosity stimulates us to momentous achievements.”

“Whatever you say,” Carson concurred.

The Warrior glanced at the soldier. “Have you ever been curious about what lies beyond the veil?”

“Where?”

“On the other side of this life. Haven’t you ever wanted to learn what happens to you when you die?”

“I already know,” Carson said smugly. “We’re taught in school that this is the only life we get. Once it’s over, that’s all she wrote.”

“Your teachers were mistaken.”

“How do you know?” Carson responded sarcastically, peeved at having the Technic educational establishment insulted. “Have you died?”

“Yes,” Yama stated.

“What?”

“I died two years ago in Seattle.”

“Yeah. Right. And I’m talking to your ghost.”

Yama looked at the Technic and grinned. “I experienced an NDE and then returned to my injured body.”

Totally confounded, Carson decided to play along until an opening came along for him to make a break. “I’ll bite. What’s an NDE?”

“A Near-Death Experience. My soul ascended to the next level, where I saw an amazing edifice and spoke to my Spirit Guide,” Yama related reverently.

“Sure you did,” Carson said, afraid he’d burst out laughing. This guy was a total psycho, and should be locked in a padded room for the rest of his life. “Uh, why are you telling me all of this?”

“So you can explain to your Minister the reason I’ve come to destroy Technic City.”

“All by your lonesome?” Carson queried, and snickered. Then it hit him.

The Warrior intended to turn him loose!

“I couldn’t very well have asked fny friends to assist me,” Yama disclosed. “Few of them would comprehend my motivation, and most of them have families. This is something I must do myself, something I should have done four years ago.”

“I don’t follow you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Yama said, and walked over to the trooper. “What does matter is that you relay my message to the new Minister. Inform him that unless he agrees to relinquish power to the Resistance Movement, I will topple him from power myself. The Technic system is an abomination that has endured for far too long. Millions of people are being held in social bondage in the name of a perverted science. Technology isn’t the be-all and end-all of existence, and shouldn’t be used to suppress personal freedom.”

Carson felt uncomfortable having the big man’s blue eyes locked on his own. He fidgeted and said, “You really expect me to tell the Minister all that?”

“Do your best.”

Why should I? Carson said to himself, too scared to voice the thought aloud.

“Because I’m sparing your life,” Yama said.

Shocked, Carson recoiled and exclaimed, “How did you know what I was thinking? Are you a mind reader?”

Instead of answering, Yama stepped to one side and indicated the cave entrance. “You can leave now. There are still enough hours of daylight left to enable you to reach Technic City if you hurry. Simply head northeast.”