PROLOGUE
It was nightime, the time of buying and selling in the trading area of The Ruins, a cleared area just east of Ocina Shield on the northern coast of Cal Wild--hot, muggy, and noisy, the air tingling with electricity like before a tropical thunderstorm.
And Dooley was indeed excited, his two older brothers leading him through the jostling crowd to the southern edge of the clearing, looking for painted ladies near the perimeter of oily flames leaping from 50 gallon drums, casting dancing shadows against the wall of pine trees beyond--
Suddenly, three figures appeared like apparitions out of the night into the flickering light: A dragon, a huge neon-green butterfly, and a golden hawk. Dooley stared with his mouth open, amazed, as the creatures blinked on and off like strobe lights, revealing three women, wearing only dangling earrings and shoes beneath their holographic costumes. He swallowed hard as the painted ladies came closer, hoping for a longer look at the naked breasts and furry crotches.
In a hoarse, sexy whisper, the Dragon Lady asked, "You boys are looking for company?"
Dooley's oldest brother laughed and answered, "Yes, ma'm, we are indeed."
The three moved in closer, the Dragon Lady clutching the arm of Dooley's oldest brother, the Hawk his other brother, and the Butterfly fluttering near his side.
"Not him," Dooley's oldest brother said, laughing and pointing at Dooley, who was shrinking back from the exotic butterfly, and the woman beneath. "He's too young, only eleven. He's just looking."
"But he's such a, a ... beautiful boy," the Butterfly said in protest, the other two women laughing. She ran her hand lovingly through his kinky blonde hair, pinched his cheek playfully, and said to him in a voice too low for the others, "You come back when you're ready, and I'll do you free. You're gonna be a fine-looking man." She moved closer and kissed his cheek.
"You two c'mon then," the Dragon Lady said to the older boys. "Flower can find another customer for herself." The dragon and the hawk started to lead the older boys away, the leader adding, "You wait here, boy, just be a minute or two." Everyone giggled except Dooley.
As the four moved off toward a path leading into the darkness of the woods, Dooley's oldest brother said, "Meet you at Wilson's, later," referring to the wine stall where the older boys had fortified their courage before moving across the clearing in search of the painted ladies.
Dooley blinked and they were gone.
He was all alone now, excited about this, his first trip outside the Shield, but also apprehensive. He wished the older boys had stayed, but he understood. Even though he was not quite ready for sex, he was interested in the female anatomy and would've liked a closer look at the butterfly woman's naked body. But of course she was too busy to hang around if he wasn't a paying customer.
So, he turned back to the trading area, the flickering light from the drums revealing a huge crowd of people moving about the circle of stalls, stands, and blanket displays of goods and services. He grinned to himself, realizing there were probably more people here tonight in the trading area than attended the Funpark inside the Shield on the upper level. Dooley and his brothers were supposed to be at the Funpark.
And the people...
Of course there were others like Dooley, Shield residents, dotting the crowd, wearing the latest modtrend that shifted through the spectrum of colors as they moved, some wearing matching funmasks, all out for an illegal night of revery. Even a few domestiques--contract workers from the Shield. But mostly, the people, including the proprietors of goods and services, were Freemen, those who lived outside the Shield in Cal Wild for whatever reason--rebellion, orneriness, or, in most cases, just lack of necessary funds.
The Freemen stood out in the crowd, wearing their characteristic bundled-up garb: All manner of coats, dusters, rain-gear, even a large number of longcoats cobbled together from blanket remnants; assorted headgear including caps, helmets, hats, hoods attached to longcoats, and what-have-you. The fronts of most of the garments were decorated with an assortment of dangling amulets, charms, and trinkets assembled from plastic, glass, feathers, and other junk. The bundled-up attire had once been functional, protecting the Freemen from environmental hazards, such as U.V. poisoning; but now the dress possessed a mystical sort of power, protecting the wearer from evil spells and bad luck in general--in fact, it was commonly believed that properly-garbed mothers would not bear a newborn burdened with one of the common Cal Wild birth defects.
The dull, drab, well-worn colors of the Freemen attire contrasted sharply with the bright colorful modtrend of the Shield residents--
"Uh, uh."
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