From the Shadows: The Complete Series

by KB Shaw

  Although Cameron’s dad had taught him not to fight, there was a distinctly satisfying feeling in having triumphed over his larger opponent. He had read about this sort of thing countless times, but he had never experienced it himself. Cameron’s blood ran hot, his senses seemed keener than usual, and he had a euphoric feeling of invincibility. As he stood over Chet, he couldn’t help but wonder Is this what winning feels like?

  The whistle blew.

  “Let me through, let me through,” barked Coach as he forced his way through the circle of players. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Coach Rausch pulling Cameron away from a body on the ground.

  “What’s goin’ on here?”

  Coach Rausch glanced at Cameron, then turned to Coach. “Mr. Ames,” he said calmly, “was instructing Mr. Rush here on the finer points of football, and Mr. Rush was just thanking Mr. Ames for being such a fine teacher.”

  Coach gave his assistant a hard look before turning to Chet, who was struggling to his feet. “Nice work, Mr. Ames,” said Coach in the mocking voice to which Cameron had become accustomed. “If ya teach everyone that well, ya’ll make a damn good coach someday.”

  The whole team laughed. Several of the blues patted Cameron on the back. Coach Rausch gave him a nod of approval.

  The whistle blew.

  “Okay, back to work everyone.”

  For the rest of that one, sunny afternoon, Cameron didn’t feel like a dummy.

  Chapter 9:

  On the Range

  TIME DRAGGED by at an excruciatingly slow pace for both Rosa and Cameron as they waited to hear about their academy application.

  Rosa’s parents expressed concern that she might become isolated from “real people” if she attended the virtual academy. She’d never have to leave the house. She wouldn’t get to interact with others her own age at the high school in town. There would be no dances to attend or sports in which to participate. She had made a wider circle of friends since she started high school, and she could lose all that if she got accepted into the academy.

  Cameron’s parents had many of the same concerns, although Cameron would not miss the harassment he was receiving from Chet Ames and Coach at spring football practice.

  In late April, Cameron started his summer job at the local goofy-golf course and driving range. He worked weekends until summer vacation began, then he started to work full-time. One of his jobs was to drive the “ball-picker.” This was a small tractor with a device attached that picked up golf balls off the driving range. Cameron sat protected in a steel mesh cage as he drove back and forth across the range.

  Whenever he was picking balls, it seemed that the tractor became a moving target no golfer could resist. If a golfer was lucky enough to slam a golf ball against his cage on the fly, everyone on the driving rage would cheer, then redouble their efforts to land a strike themselves. Despite the protection of the cage, Cameron would flinch every time a ball struck full-force.

  One Saturday morning in June, after the tortures of spring practice were over, Billy Parker was hitching a ride with Cameron as he picked up balls. Billy moved from side-to-side in the cage, always positioning himself to face the line of golf tees. He pressed his hands against the cage, put his thick-lensed glasses close to the steel mesh barrier, and shouted taunts at the golfers.

  “So ya can hit a ball two hundred yards,” he yelled at the golfers, “but I bet ya can’t hit a movin’ target!”

  A ball hit the ground about 10 yards in front of him, careened off the hardened ground, and struck the cage with a mighty blow. The shock of the strike caused Billy to recoil from the cage, falling backward against Cameron. When the tractor veered off its normally straight path, the golfers cheered.

  “Good try, hotshot!” Billy shouted as he regained his position facing the golfers. “But a bounce don’t count.” He twisted toward Cameron. “So whatcha doin’ this summer?” he asked.

  Cameron gave Billy a sideways glance as he straightened the tractor. It must have been a trick of the light: a combination of Billy’s thick lenses and just the right tilt of his head. Billy appeared to have four eyes behind his black, horn-rimmed glasses. Cameron chuckled at the strange appearance of his nearsighted friend. “Not much. Just working and stuff. You know.”

  Talking with Billy was unique. It was like talking to someone way out in space somewhere—so far out that there was a time delay between each part of the conversation. Cameron had driven to the edge of the range and was doing a U-turn before Billy spoke again. “Just workin’ an’ stuff, eh?” he asked.

  “Yep,” replied Cameron as he headed the picker back across the range.

  “Drills’ve been over a couple weeks now an’ still you ain’t been out to play ball,” said Billy 15 seconds later. The tractor was approaching the center of the range, so Billy shifted sides in the cage and once again taunted the golfers. No one came close to striking the cage on this pass.

  “So where’ve you been?” he asked as the tractor came to the other side of the driving range.

  “Have you read about that new academy GundTech’s starting next fall?”

  A 12-second pause. Cameron hauled the tractor about and headed back across the range.

  “Yep,” said Billy

  “Well… I’ve applied.”

  Just then, the cage was rattled by the strike of two golf balls in quick succession. At the unexpected impacts, Cameron’s heart leapt into his throat. About 10 seconds later Billy said, “Cool.”

  Before Cameron could ask what Billy thought was cool (his applying for the academy or being struck by two golf balls at once), he noticed his boss, Mr. Jeffries, waving for him to come back to the clubhouse. His parents and a woman he had never seen before were standing beside his boss.

  • • •

  ROSA’S SUMMER WORK covered a much larger range than Cameron’s did. Rosa’s job may have been enviable to most people her age who didn’t realize how much work it actually was. Rosa was an honest-to-goodness cowgirl. The job demanded long, sometimes boring, hours interspersed with periods of intense action and physically demanding work.

  Even at her young age, Rosa’s skills were at such a level that she earned one of the top wages among the seasonal ranch hands. All the other cowboys trusted and respected her. Cameron had never seen the shelf full of Rosa’s rodeo trophies in the Costas family living room.

  About the time Cameron was picking balls on the driving range, Rosa and her dad were on the far south range of the ranch, mending a fence. A solitary hawk was circling high in the clear blue sky. Rosa heard two things almost at once: the shrill shriek of the hawk and the whinny of an approaching horse. She turned to see her mother coming over a small rise.

  “It’s Mama,” she said as she waved a gloved hand happily.

  Her dad rose from his kneeling position and dusted himself off. “Well, I’ll be,” he said. Then he saw the head of a second rider pop up over the ridge. “Who could that be, way out here?”

  Rosa and her dad didn’t recognize the man. He was young—probably in his late twenties or early thirties—and he was definitely from the city. It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure that out, for he was wearing dress pants and expensive shoes. His open-collared white shirt told them that the man must have abandoned his coat and tie back at the house.

  Mrs. Costas dismounted gracefully when she reached her husband and daughter. She held up a silencing hand before Bernardo Costas could ask who the stranger was. The man pulled a small satellite phone from the clip on his belt. He punched in a single number as he swung down from the horse so effortlessly that it both surprised and impressed Bernardo Costas and his daughter.

  • • •

  CAMERON PARKED the tractor in the equipment shed and walked toward the clubhouse with Billy in tow. As he neared his folks, he noticed that his boss had returned to the clubhouse.

  “Who’s the lady?” asked Billy.

  Cameron shrugged.

  “She’s hot,” Billy continued aft
er only a five-second interval.

  “I like redheads.”

  Cameron heard the ring of a telephone and then saw the woman reach into her bag and withdraw a phone. She flipped it open and put it to her ear. A smile crossed her face.

  “Are you on-site?” She was speaking to the caller as Cameron arrived. “Good. The young man has just walked up. What’s that? Oh, yes… I’m at a driving range… No, not golfing. He works here. He was driving the ball-picker cart.”

  She smiled as she looked Cameron over from his sneakers to his Packers’ cap.

  “And you? … Uh-huh … No kidding? How did you… On horseback!” Her smile widened into a grin. “Okay then, I’ll make the connection.”

  The woman punched in a long string of numbers, then listened for a moment. “Yes, are we all connected? I hear you fine. Yes. That’s right. He’s right here.”

  She handed Cameron the phone. “There’s someone who wants to talk to you.”

  • • •

  THE MAN HANDED Rosa the phone. “There’s someone who wants to talk to you.”

  “Hello,” said Rosa tentatively as a familiar voice on the other end said the same thing. “Who is… Cameron? Is that you?”

  “Rosa? Where are you?”

  “I’m out on the range in the middle of nowhere. What’s going on?”

  “Mr. Rush? Miss Costas?” came a third voice. It was a woman who sounded vaguely familiar.

  “Yes,” they replied together.

  “This is Gwen Johanssen. Do you have any idea who I am?”

  Rosa remembered immediately. “Yes, ma’am. You’re from GundTech. You introduced the IHT.” Her heart began to race.

  • • •

  “YES, AND I’M CALLING from Oslo, Norway, to inform you both that you have been selected as finalists for the IHT International Academy.”

  Gwen was glad she was on a speakerphone when the line erupted with screams of joy. She smiled at the young man seated across from her. He nodded his approval.

  Once Cameron and Rosa had collected themselves, Gwen Johanssen spoke again. “Before we go on, I must ask you one question. You must answer immediately, and your answer is final. Do you both understand?”

  The teens voiced their understanding.

  “Good. Let me continue. You have apparently applied jointly. The record shows you linked your multiComs in the application process. Please realize that, if you proceed as a team, you will either succeed or fail as a team. We can allow you to split your applications right now, if you so wish. That way, if one of you does not get accepted, the other may still have a chance. You must now…”

  Two voices, speaking as one, interrupted her. “Team!”

  The man sitting across from Gwen slapped his hand against the table as if exclaiming, “I knew it!” He nodded to Gwen as he picked up the vidCap photos of Rosa and Cameron, rose from his seat, and left the room.

  “Good, that’s settled then,” Gwen affirmed on the phone.

  “The GundTech representative who’s with you at the moment will explain to you and your parents what happens next. Good luck. I hope to see you soon.”

  Chapter 10:

  Beta 0.5.1

  ROSA IN NEW MEXICO and Cameron in Wisconsin couldn’t believe it—they had just spoken to Gwen Johannsen in Norway. They were finalists—as a team—for acceptance in the IHT Academy.

  Their respective GundTech reps told Rosa and Cameron the next step would be completion of the personal interview.

  “Completion?” asked Rosa.

  “Yes, we deliberately sought you out on a Saturday morning to get a feel for how you spend your time. We’ll take this opportunity to talk with your parents, get medical histories, and the like. We would also like to arrange a time to interview you, Cameron, and your families all together.”

  “It’ll be difficult for us to leave…” Mr. Costas began.

  The young man from GundTech smiled. “You won’t have to go anywhere—not physically, that is.” He looked at the roll of barbed wire on the ground. “It’s been years since I worked with my grandpa over by Gallup. Got an extra pair of gloves? I’ll give you a hand as we talk. The name’s Anderson, by the way. Max Anderson.” He extended his hand toward Mr. Costas.

  “Bernardo Costas,” replied Rosa’s dad as he gripped the GundTech rep’s hand. “Call me Bernie.”

  Debbie White formally introduced herself to Cameron and followed him home when he took a lunch break. Cameron’s parents were amazed, surprised, and proud. Even Jenny was impressed.

  Throughout the day, the two reps talked with the Costas and Rush families and coordinated the joint interview. The following Saturday afternoon, they’d return and set up a three-way multiCom conference connecting Oslo, the Rush house, and Rancho Verde.

  The next week flew by in a flash.

  Around noon the following Saturday, Max Anderson arrived, carrying a titanium case about the size of a small suitcase. Mrs. Costas greeted him at the door. “Hello, Max,” she said. “It’s nice to have you back on the ranch.”

  “The pleasure is all mine. Thank you for having me early for dinner. The meal you cooked up last week brought back fond memories of summers on my grandparents’ ranch.”

  “That’s very kind of you. I suppose you’ll need to set up in Rosa’s room.”

  “Wherever the most convenient multiCom port is located.”

  “We only have one. The Holsteins, they own the ranch, put one in for Rosa. Her room’s this way.”

  She led the man down a hall toward the back of the house. “Rosa and Bernie will be home shortly. Ranch work waits for no one, you know. Well, here’s her little domain.”

  “This room will be a little cramped. Would you mind if I installed a port in the great room? Don’t worry. It’s wireless… and it’s free.”

  It was two o’clock in the afternoon, Wisconsin time, when Debbie White arrived at the Rush house carrying a similar case. Luckily for Cameron, his parents had the entire house wired with multiCom ports. Ed Rush, who was a freelance writer and editor, conducted his business from a multiCom in the downstairs parlor, which had been converted into a home office.

  “Cameron’s at the range,” said Mr. Rush. “He’ll be back at three. Where would you like to set up? We have a multiCom unit in Cameron’s room—amazingly, he’s actually tidied up the place—or we have one in my office.”

  “You don’t happen to have a port in the living room, do you?” asked Debbie White as she surveyed Mr. Rush’s office.

  “Won’t you need the multiCom?”

  “No sir, I won’t.” She lifted the titanium case and patted it.

  • • •

  THE INTERVIEW was scheduled for two-thirty, Rosa’s time—three-thirty for Cameron. Rosa saw the set-up in the great room when she arrived home for dinner with her dad. She wished Cameron could have seen it at the same time, but she knew it would be another hour-and-a-half before Cameron got home from work. All during dinner she kept glancing through the archway that separated the dining room from the great room. Her eyes focused on a small black box, maybe six inches square. Is that it? It has to be. But that small?

  As he pedaled down the street, Cameron saw Miss White’s car parked in front of his house. He guided the bike up the drive, did a moving dismount, and parked it in the garage. Taking the back steps two at a time, he called out, “Mom, Dad, I’m home.”

  “Go up and shower,” said his mother from the front room. “It’s already quarter after three.”

  “Okay, Mom.” Cameron raced up the steps toward his room. “We’re going to be in Dad’s office?” he asked loudly as he whipped off his grimy shirt.

  “No, in the living room,” came Ed Rush’s voice in reply.

  The living room? That’s odd, thought Cameron as he stepped into the shower. Five minutes later, he rushed down the stairs, his hair still damp. He was tucking in his shirt when he entered the living room. Debbie White was seated in one of the two wingback chairs that faced a large, comfortable s
ofa. Mom, Dad, and Jenny were on the sofa. Debbie rose as Cameron entered the room.

  “The man of the hour! Have a seat,” she said, motioning to the empty wingback.

  Cameron noticed a small black cube sitting on the coffee table between him and the sofa. He quickly turned his gaze toward the room’s multiCom port. A small device with a single green light glowing on its surface was plugged into the port. He looked back at the black box. Next to it, lying on the coffee table, were five golden pins. His eyes widened as he focused on the GundTech rep. “Is it…”

  Debbie White beamed. “IHT Beta 0.5.1. The latest and greatest. Ready to go to Oslo?”

  • • •

  AT TWENTY-FIVE MINUTES past the hour, exactly, Debbie White and Max Anderson distributed the pins to the two families, attaching the last pins to themselves. With precise timing, the great room in New Mexico and the living room in Wisconsin turned to gelatin. The reps told the families they would soon find themselves seated in a large, informal discussion area at the GundTech headquarters in Oslo. It was somewhat disorienting as their surroundings wobbled and dissolved into the IHT-generated meeting place. Cameron likened the feeling to motion sickness.

  As the image cleared, he turned to see Rosa seated in a soft, comfortable chair to his right. Despite all their multiCom visits, he was caught off guard by Rosa’s petite stature. To him, she was always larger than life. Cameron was not tall, by any means, but he guessed Rosa was at least half-a-head shorter than he was.

  Rosa had much the same impression. Unlike viewing a person on a screen, this made everyone so… How could she say it? So… human.

  Rosa’s legs, which didn’t quite touch the floor, were swinging in nervous excitement. She was embarrassed when she noticed Cameron looking at her dangling feet. Then she saw Cameron’s right knee bobbing up and down, displaying his own anxiety. They made eye contact, grinned at each other, and immediately relaxed.