Chapter 19

Earth time: Thursday, 1 PM, September 30, 2010 Central Daylight Savings Time

"That's it Jim," Cindy link-thought. She was standing up against one of the front-room windows. Having rocks thrown at her head was now such a frequent occurrence; she wasn't even flinching when they would bounce off the glass. "I've got all eleven of them either in front of me or in their shelter. Go!"

Jim came out of the closet and closed the door, then quickly walked six meters across the back-room. There was a large pile of boxes stacked near the backdoor. Taking a deep breath, he thought the go-code to Cindy.

Cindy started beating on the glass and yelling at the boys, making as much noise as possible. Simultaneously Jim opened the rear door and started hurling the boxes out the door as fast as he could. He was making good progress, just getting into the rhythm of the impossibly strenuous work, when he heard Cindy's mind screaming at him, "Close! Close! Close!"

Jim hurled the package in his arms through the door and reached to slam it. He heard an "Uff!" noise as his package struck one of the approaching boys. He had no idea they were that close. He slammed the door and locked it, and then felt the door tested almost simultaneously.

Cindy ran in from the other room. "I'm sorry!!! I'm so sorry!!!" Jim looked up at her. She was as pale as a ghost.

"It's okay! We're okay!" He rechecked to make sure the door was locked, and then held Cindy in his arms and started kissing her cheeks. Cindy held him tightly. When she finally opened her eyes, she saw the Paleo boys gathered around the windows, hissing at her.

"Jim, let's get out of here." She closed her eyes and hugged him tightly. "I'm standing by my car. My nice peaceful car..." She opened her eyes and smiled, breathing a sigh of relief. The prison walls of Antelope Freeway were a welcome site. "Wow Jim, that was fast! Just a few seconds... Good job!"

"You mean the jump? It was all you. I just hung on for the ride..." They were soon sitting down on some patio furniture they had jumped over the previous week, creating a small picnic area in the exact center of Antelope Freeway. Except for the changes in the solar cycle, the weather on the Freeway seemed locked at 53F and a pleasant spring setting. The wildflowers seemed perpetually in bloom, and Jim and Cindy now thought of the prison more as their private garden.

Cindy stretched out in a plastic-tube lounge chair. "How close was it?"

Jim chuckled. "So close, you don't want to know."

"Yikes... Sorry again. I know you've already forgiven me. What'd you manage to get out?"

"All the arctic clothing, a good deal of the food. I didn't get to the gear. Perhaps it's just as well."

Over the last several weeks, Jim and Cindy had been observing the boys as the arctic winter set in. The ocean around their island was now pancake ice, large layers of frozen salt water bobbing in the waves, and they were both expecting it to freeze solid any day. Six days ago, on September 24, the sun dipped below the horizon. They were now a twilight halfway between sunset and true night.

The youths had dug a shelter near the front door of the arctic lodge and were constantly testing the strength of the windows and doors. Jim tried to convince Cindy that the boys were so vicious that they should not be helped, and at last she agreed. But then something happened on September 28 that changed both their minds.

They both saw it happen. The youths were just standing around outside the house, exhausted from their latest futile attack, when one of the youngest looking boys had what was obviously a heart attack. He clutched his left arm, then held his chest, then collapsed to the ground and died.

It was the reaction of the other boys that made Jim and Cindy rethink their perspective. The boys showed obvious frustration at the loss, but also treated it as a totally natural occurrence. Jim and Cindy had a long conversation later that night.

"So you think it's medical? So do I." Cindy curled up and cuddled with Jim in their warm bedroom. She shivered thinking how ill-prepared the Paleo boys were for the arctic weather outside. All of them were already showing the black signs of serious frostbite.

"Yeah, I think so. Some chemical imbalance maybe. It's burning out their bodies, filling them with rage, and they know it. Hell, they know they're dying, and they still can't stop the rage. This is so sad Cindy..."

"Jim, if it's a chemical imbalance, then they're truly insane, and not accountable for their actions. It's not their fault. We should help them."

"It'll be risky... But I agree."

Cindy leaned up and kissed him. "I love you..." The next hour passed in gentle love making...

Earth time: Unknown, mid morning, autumn solar cycle, Day-5 at the country store...

A'moth walked out of the store after a late breakfast and started heading down the path to Antelope Freeway. She was carrying the bow and arrows. All the other gear she would need had already been carried to the worksite the previous evening, including some heavy rocks to act as an anchor for the rope.

She was very relaxed as she walked. She knew Clovis spears were no match for a longbow, and her senses were also telling her she was very alone.

A'moth was all business when she reached her destination. The uncoiled fish-line from the store had already been unrolled and color-coded with length markers every two meters. She had cleared the corn out of a straight path just over 400 feet in front of the towering wall. The thin nylon fish-line was laid out in long straight loops along the path.

For many centuries A'moth had been a fan of flight shooting. She was present in 1987 when Don Brown set the world record with a shot of 1336 yards. She was at the Olympic Games in Barcelona in 1992 when Antonia Rebolla lit the Olympic torch with a flaming arrow.

A'moth prepared for the shot, and then took a moment to steady herself. She had the right bow for the job, and the right skills and muscle. A shot to clear a 400-foot obstacle would ordinarily not be a problem. But she had never tried distance shooting while trailing a fish-line.

A'moth notched the arrow and pulled back the full length of the bow. The power was incredible and she loved it. She sited for a moment high above the wall, realizing that she needed to have the arrow travel at least 400 feet beyond the top of the wall. From 400 feet away, she released the full power of the bow into the arrow.

Her shot was perfect, clearing the wall by over a hundred feet with the great thin arc of the fish-line shining and still rising in the morning sun. A'moth ran up to catch the line that was hanging down on her side of the wall.

She was overjoyed to feel some tension in the line when she got to it, as if it were impaled on something on the other side. Her distance marker was showing 805 feet of line deployed from the arrow to the bottom of her side of the wall. A'moth smiled. Before her shot, she had no idea if she were firing onto a roof, or into a bottomless pit. Her job for the moment was done. There was nothing to do now but wait.

Earth time: Friday, 10 AM, November 26, 2010 Central Standard Time

Cindy and Jim were taking their daily morning exercise run, jogging ten times around the swimming pool jogging track at their arctic home, then jumping to Antelope Freeway to jog the same number around the barrier perimeter. They happened to be jogging counter- clockwise, eastward about midway along the southern wall, when Jim stopped and gasped.

Cindy looked up and did the same. "I see it too! Are we under attack?!"

They both stared as the arrow glistened in the sunlight as it arched over the eastern wall. It landed in the center divider between the eastbound and westbound lanes, burying itself into the soft earth. Keeping a wary eye for more arrows, they slowly approached the landing site.

"Fish-line Jim!" said Cindy, as she squatted to examine the arrow.

"Yeah, I see it."

"And a message, painted on the arrow! It says, PULL ON LINE. Think we should?"

Jim thought for a moment. "Yeah, I do. How about you?"

Cindy smiled and answered by starting to pull on the line. After a few seconds Jim helped her reel the line in. They began to create a large pile of it near their feet.

A'moth was overjoyed to see her fish-line going up the wall. She had only been waiting about a minute, and had been prepared to wait till at least sundown. After an additional fifty feet of fish-line, a much heavier nylon rope started being pulled up the wall. A'moth watched the note attached to the beginning of the rope, until it disappeared over the wall. She couldn't have hoped for better results.