About Kwelengsen Dawn:
Excerpt:
One
"Never confuse civility with civilization." — Grandfather Twofeathers
Sweat trickled down Logan's neck and crawled inside the collar of his shirt, the passive cooling in the building not nearly enough to combat the savage heat of a Baltimore summer. The whir of fans droned like a lethargic swarm of insects, stirring the fetid air ineffectually. He shifted position in a plastic chair clearly molded to provide zero comfort, his hands moist against the abrasive surface.
A heavy door to his left swung open. A man in a dark suit emerged, nodded to the secretary at the desk opposite, and hastened toward the exit. Logan jumped to his feet and strode after him.
"Mr. Twofeathers!" the secretary called after him. "I'm afraid Representative Campbell has left for the day."
Logan hurried after Campbell as best he could. Five months since returning from Kwelengsen and his injured leg still bothered him. Campbell was quick, darting through the throng of people bustling around the USP regional offices. The large clock display floating above the main foyer showed three in the afternoon. The representative was apparently looking for an early finish. Despite his limp, Logan's long stride allowed him to close within a couple of meters of Campbell.
"Mr. Campbell?" he called, as they approached the wide vestibule entrance. "I need a word, Representative."
Campbell glanced over his shoulder but didn't stop. "I'm sorry, I have an important meeting. Arrange an appointment with my secretary."
Logan's temper snapped, and he tapped Campbell's shoulder. "I've tried. Whenever I ask, I'm told your calendar is full. I've been sitting outside your office every day for over a week, and you will talk to me."
Campbell finally stopped, turning to face him. "Who do you think you are? You can't simply accost someone in this manner. Why, I could have you detained." His features twisted into an even more dour expression.
"My name is Logan Twofeathers."
Campbell's mouth opened slightly, then closed again. "You're that one. The settlement. Kweleng-something."
"I want to know what plans there are to recover the people we had to leave behind." His voice was tight, his chest constricting at the thought of Aurore and the others they'd inadvertently abandoned on Kwelengsen. "Everyone tells me I need to talk to the USP. You're the district representative."
"That's outside my remit." Campbell squeezed a smile across his narrow face. "Take it up with CESA."
"I did. They directed me to the World Congress."
"Then I suggest you contact them, Mr. Twofeathers. Good day."
Before Campbell could move, Logan grabbed his arm. "I've done that too. They told me it was an individual jurisdictional matter and I should contact my USP representative. So here I am."
They were as stationary as rocks in a river, while people swept by like the tumult of a stream flowing around them. Logan released his hold on Campbell, but only after stepping around to block his way out.
"This is outrageous. This isn't some backward colony. There are procedures and rules here, Mr. Twofeathers."
"I'd rather you didn't use that word." Logan's jaw tightened. "We were a settlement, not a colony. And there was nothing backward about how we managed our affairs, or the illegal invasion by Corporate forces."
"I've heard of you. You've been causing trouble for quite some time." Campbell's lips were a tight line. "Trying to drum up a stink to embarrass the administration. As you are well aware, negotiations with the Corporates over the Urafiki system and Kwelengsen are ongoing. This is a delicate matter. You would be smart to leave it to the professionals and not make further waves. Now, if you don't mind, I have to meet my wife and attend my granddaughter's ballet recital."
So much for the important meeting. "Do you love your wife, Mr. Campbell?"
"Of course I do. What game are you playing now?"
"I imagine you wouldn't want anything to happen to her."
"Is that a threat?" Campbell's eyes widened. "What have you done to her?"
"I haven't done anything. My wife is stuck on Kwelengsen. For all I know she's fighting for her life, or possibly a prisoner being tortured by Corporate soldiers. How would you feel if your wife was in that position?"
"Guards!" Campbell glanced around. Several people had stopped to watch the quarrel. "Security!"
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About David M. Kelly:
