“I selected it.”
“You picked your own name?” Adam inquired incredulously.
Yama nodded, placing his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers together.
“How can you pick your own name?” Adam queried.
“It’s a common practice at the place I’m from,” Yama explained. “The man who founded, who started, this place a long, long time ago was worried we’d forget what things were like before the Third World War.
This man left us a lot of books, a whole library, and we’re encouraged to go through these books and select the name we want for a special ceremony.”
“Special ceremony?” Adam repeated.
“It’s called our Naming. We go through it on the day we turn sixteen. Whatever name we pick, that’s how we’re known for the rest of our lives. At first, we used only names from the history books, but now we use names from just about any source. My own name, Yama, for instance, comes from a book on the Hindu religion…”
“The what?”
“It comes from the name they gave their King of Death. It wasn’t my first choice, but Ares was already taken and I refused to be named after a planet. Yama fits, though. It’s higly appropriate, considering my vocation.”
Adam’s brow was furrowed. “I’m not sure I follow you, Mister Yama.”
“Just Yama.”
“What’s a Hindu?” Adam asked. “And an Ares? Does everybody take a name as strange as yours?”
Yama chuckled. “Not everyone. Some of my closest friends have more normal names. One of them is called Hickok, after a gunfighter who lived way back in the days of the Old West. Another is named Geronimo, after a mighty Indian warrior who refused to knuckle under to oppression. And one of them is known as Rikki-Tikki-Tavi…”
Adam broke into unrestrained laughter. “Rikki… what?”
Varna smiled. “Rikki-Tikki-Tavi. He took his name from a story about this animal that defends its home and family from deadly snakes.”
“Where are you from, Yama?” Adam wanted to know.
“Food’s out,” Gail promptly announced. “Adam, don’t you disturb… Yama… while he’s eating.”
“Ahhhhh, Mom,” Adam mumbled, reaching for his fork.
Yama looked at Seth. “Would you do the honor of giving thanks to the Spirit for our sustenance?”
Seth’s mouth dropped open for a second, then closed. He glanced at his wife. “There’s no way this man can be from the Citadel.”
“I am not from the Citadel,” Yama assured him.
“But how can we be sure?” Gail asked nervously.
“Is something wrong?” Yama questioned them.
Seth Mason appeared to be in the midst of a momentous decision. He looked from Gail to Adam to Yama, intently staring at the latter as if he were attempting to actually read Yama’s mind. Finally, he nodded, closed his eyes, and said their grace. “Lord, we thank you for this meal. We thank you for all of your blessings. We ask that you lead our footsteps daily and preserve us from harm. Amen.”
“Amen,” Gail added, opening her eyes and gazing at Yama in stark fear.
Seth locked his eyes on Yama. “Well, if you’re going to do it, go ahead. Get it over with!”
“Get what over with?”
“Turn us in,” Seth said, an edge to his tone. “Kill us. Whatever it is the Doktor sent you to do.”
“The Doktor didn’t send me,” Yama stated gently. “And why would I want to kill you?”
“For giving thanks to our Lord,” Seth responded.
“For giving thanks…” Yama repeated, and his bewilderment was readily apparent to the other three. “I wasn’t informed of this aspect. Explain.”
“You don’t know?” Seth questioned.
“Know what?”
Seth glanced at Gail. “See? I told you he isn’t from the damn Citadel! Now I even doubt he’s from the Civilized Zone.” He looked at Yama.
“Before I say any more, I need to know some things about you. Would you consent to answering a few questions?”
“If I can,” Yama promised.
“You’ve got to understand,” Seth went on. “I must be certain about you.
I have this gut feeling, but it isn’t enough where the safety of my family is concerned.” He paused. “Are you from the Citadel?”
“No,” Yama replied.
“From the Civilized Zone?”
“No.”
The Masons exchanged amazed glances.
“We’d heard there are people out there,” Seth said, “but we never expected to meet one. Where are you from?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t reveal that information.”
Seth pondered for a moment. “Okay. I won’t press the point. But can you at least tell me what you’re doing here?”
“If my calculations are correct,” Yama answered, choosing his words carefully, “and the map I was provided with is accurate, then I estimate I’m about twenty miles from the Cheyenne Citadel. Is this right?”
“You’re nineteen miles northwest of the Citadel,” Seth confirmed.
“Why?” he added hastily. “You’re not thinking of going there, are you?”
“I must.”
“Don’t do it!” Gail Mason interjected.
Yama looked at her.
“You’re crazy if you try to enter the Citadel,” she elaborated. “They have guards at all the entry points, and they check the identity of everyone going in. Do you have an identification card?”
“No,” Yama admitted.
“Besides,” Seth mentioned, smirking, “no one in the entire Civilized Zone wears clothes like yours. You’d stand out like a sore thumb. You’d draw soldiers like carrion draws flies.”
Yama sat back in his chair, his eyes narrowed. “Why are you telling me all of this? You live in the Civilized Zone. Aren’t you obligated to report my presence to the proper authorities?”
Seth laughed, a bitter, grating sound, devoid of all genuine mirth. “If you only knew! Do you have any idea what it’s like living in the Civilized Zone?”
“I’ve heard some tales,” Yama replied. “I stopped here with the hope of learning some more before I go into the Citadel.”
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” Seth vowed.
“But why would you…” Yama started to speak, then abruptly stopped, his head cocked to one side.
Adam, ingesting all this astounding information in stunned silence, was the first to realize why Yama fell silent. “Listen!” he exclaimed. “The dogs!”
The pair of mixed-breed canines owned by the Masons were barking frantically.
“How did you get past our dogs, Yama?” Adam thought to ask him.
“They were dozing in the sun,” Yama detailed. “I didn’t want to disturb their beauty rest.”
Seth Mason rose and hurriedly walked to one of the two windows in the main room. “Damn! It’s a patrol! what are they doing here now?”
Yama rose so swiftly, so unexpectedly, Adam involuntarily jumped.
“If they find you here,” Gail said to Yama, “they’ll kill you.”
“They will try.”
Gail nodded her head toward Adam. “They may kill us too.”
Adam found Yama’s eyes on him for a moment.
“I don’t want to pose a danger to your family,” Yama stated. “I’ll stay out of sight until they’re gone.”
Seth motioned for Gail to join him. “Let’s greet them on the porch. Maybe we can talk them out of coming inside. Adam, you stay in here with Yama and don’t you dare make a sound!”
Seth and Gail walked onto the porch, arm in arm.
Yama waved Adam toward the window to the left of the front door while he positioned himself beside the window to the right. Both of the windows were open, as was the wooden front door, although the screen door in front was closed.
Adam crouched below the window sill and cautiously peeked his eyes upward until he could see their front yard: the water pump, the red barn beyond, five of their chickens scratching in the dirt, his parents standing on the front porch, and just rounding the northern corner of the barn a tall soldier in his green uniform, carrying an M-16.