" 'Police'?" Ivy said dubiously. "They are...people hired to try to control the violence and lawlessness of the towns? We've been told they seldom succeed."
Kevin looked thoughtful. "It varies, I guess. There is a lot of 'violence and lawlessness.' But the way we look at it is that things would be worse without police. Anyway, they investigate crimes, and we may have a crime here.
"There are different kinds of police," he continued. "I'm not sure who's responsible for policing a place like this--State, County, or the nearest town. But I don't need to know. Want to watch what I'm doing, Lucius?"
Lucius decided this was no time to say that he wasn't clear as to the meaning of State, and County had left him completely in the dark. He simply nodded, and hovered close as Kevin jabbed the "telephone" with his finger, three times in quick succession. "Nine-one-one, you got that? That's the number you call in an emergency--yes, hello, operator!"
Lucius found it hard to believe Kevin could speak into the hand-held device and be heard by someone at a distance. But now the telephone was emitting sounds of its own. The staccato bursts did indeed resemble another human voice, though he couldn't make out words as Kevin lifted the instrument closer to his ear. Does this world employ magic, or are there reasonable explanations for its fantastic machines?
"Look, operator," Kevin said, "I'm not sure this is exactly a nine-one-one emergency. But I think the cops will want to get out here to investigate, fast.
"My name is Kevin Lupinski. I'm a security guard with the Walker Wildlife Preserve. I have a young man and woman here who hiked out of the Preserve. They tell me they live in a village somewhere inside it, where no village should be."
The "operator" apparently had something to say at that point. Kevin listened for a few seconds, then said irritably, "Yes, I'm sure they're not pulling my leg!" (Lucius's bewilderment must have shown in his face: he paused to translate that as "playing a trick on me.") Returning to his conversation with the operator, he said, "Hear me out, will you? They'd never seen--well, the young woman is blind. But the point is, they'd never heard of motor vehicles. Or phones, for that matter. They'd been brought up to believe they were living in the 19th century. They thought the year was 1898!"
To judge from his expression, the operator still wasn't convinced his story should be taken seriously. "There's something else," he said grimly. "The man says that while they were walking through the forest, he found a dozen human skeletons. He brought a skull out with him as proof--says he buried it on this side of the wall, and he'll be able to find it easily."
That seemingly produced the response he wanted. After listening for a few seconds more he said, "Yes, of course I'll stay here with them." A moment later he was putting the phone back in his pocket.
Lucius was puzzled. "You didn't tell them how to find us."
"There's no need," Kevin explained. "A nine-one-one operator has a way to pinpoint exactly where a call came from. It doesn't work everywhere, especially with cell phones--small phones like mine. But this is an area where it does work." As an afterthought, he said, "Drat. It might have made sense to go back to where the skull is, then call them. But now we have to wait here. Why don't you two get in my truck, so you can sit down and be comfortable for a few minutes?"
"Ivy?" Lucius asked. "What do you want to do?"
She was reaching out, anxiously, to clutch at him. But after she'd had time to think, she said, "It would be a relief to sit down and rest, in real seats. And we'll probably have to accustom ourselves to these vehicles sooner or later."
"Agreed." So he helped her into the cab of the truck and climbed in himself, with a minimum of guidance from Kevin--which consisted mostly of warning him what not to touch.
He'd barely begun examining the interior, describing it for Ivy, when they heard the rumble that heralded the approach of another vehicle. Kevin, standing outside, looked alarmed.
Startled, Ivy asked, "Can that be the police already?"
"No, I don't think so." They heard another screeching halt. Looking out a window, Lucius told her, "It's a second truck just like this one, with a sign reading 'Walker Wildlife Preserve'!"
"Stay in there," Kevin told them quickly.
As Lucius watched--giving Ivy a running description--the driver jumped out of the second truck and angrily confronted Kevin.
The men were identically dressed. The newcomer was slim and youthful-looking; Lucius guessed he'd be handsome if his face wasn't contorted by rage. But while Kevin could have passed for a resident of the village, this man had the darkest skin Lucius had ever seen, outside of picture-books.
The dark-skinned man made several attempts to approach their truck; each time, Kevin moved to block his way. They argued vehemently, while Lucius went clammy with dread. Why are they fighting? And...how do men fight here? Are they carrying knives, maybe even guns? If the dark-skinned man kills Kevin, will he kill us too?
Nothing of the sort happened. To his surprise, the two never came to blows; they raised their voices and gesticulated, but neither laid a hand on the other. They used some words he'd never heard before, and some that were puzzlingly out of context (such as prick). But in other respects, their argument was as civil as disputes in the village.
It ended as three more vehicles arrived on the scene, in rapid succession. These were very different in appearance, and bore a variety of markings. Two people got out of each of them. The dark-skinned man threw up his hands in disgust, and went off to argue with--Lucius assumed--the police.
Kevin came back to the truck, leaned inside, and said good-humoredly, "My boss. The cops called him. But see, I'm still alive!"
Lucius was perplexed. Looking after the dark-skinned man, he said, "He's your boss?"
"Yeah, sure...wait a minute." With a sudden chill in his voice, Kevin said, "You have some kind of problem with that?"
Lucius noticed the chill, and was more confused than ever. What did I say? "No, not a 'problem' exactly. But...how old is he?"
Kevin blinked. "How old?" After a moment's reflection, he said, "Early thirties, I guess. I've never thought about it. Why? What does his age have to do with anything?"
"Do I understand this correctly? Your 'boss' is a person who has authority over you in a work situation?" Boss-employee relationships existed in the village. They were usually short-term, coming about when someone needed assistance with farm chores, construction, or repairs. Payment was made in goods or services--unless crop failure, illness, or injury rendered the employer unable to pay. In those cases debts were forgotten, and everyone pulled together to help.
Kevin nodded. "That's right."
"To me, that man looks too young to be anyone's boss," Lucius explained.
"Too young? That's all you were thinking of?" Now Kevin seemed confused and amazed.
"Well, of course--it's startling! But..." Lucius pondered briefly, then said, "I think I can see why things are different here. I'm 25. In our village, there's no one between my age and, I'd guess, mid-forties. Anyone in a position of authority would be old enough to be my parent. But here, there are people in more age groups, so society has to be differently organized."
"No one between 25 and 45?" Kevin echoed, in a tone of stunned disbelief. "This village of yours sounds stranger all the time."