Into Shadow Read online

  Into

  Shadow

  T.D. SHIELDS

  Copyright © 2015 T.D. Shields

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1505885256

  ISBN-13: 978-1505885255

  DEDICATION

  Thank you to my family, and especially my husband,

  for all your encouragement and help with this project!

  I could have never done it without you.

  CHAPTER ONE

  I sat at my dressing table, touching up my makeup with a deft hand while focusing most of my attention on the slender, gray-haired woman perched on a chair to my left.

  “You’ll need to leave the awards ceremony no later than 11:00 in order to make it to The St. Lucien hotel by lunch. That’s a lunch meeting in the hotel’s Tea Room with Madelaine Carlson and Clarissa Wender to discuss a theme and begin planning for this year’s Congressional Scholarship fund-raising gala. Wrap that up by 2:00 because you’re visiting the West Goodland Primary School at 2:30. If you’re done there by 4:00 you’ll have enough time to return to the White House and change for dinner.

  “You’ll be acting as hostess for your father tonight. This is intended as a casual meal; think dining with your father and some business associates rather than dining with the President and the governors of the Union of American States, Canadian Federation, and Mexican Federation.”

  “Right,” I joked. “Just a casual barbecue with dad’s golfing buddies then. I assume we’ll be grilling burgers on the South Lawn?”

  “Very funny.” Louisa’s lips pursed more tightly than usual as she responded. She never thought my jokes were funny.

  “Dinner will be in the East Dining Room. The menu and dinner service have already been arranged. Please plan to arrive before 6 p.m. Your father will escort the governors to the East Library, as they are coming directly from afternoon councils. He would like you to play the piano for approximately 30 minutes.

  “This will allow time for the gentlemen to transition from political discussion to more casual conversation. You can then lead them to the dining room and take charge of the dinner conversation.”

  “Cha,” I sighed. Taking charge of the dinner conversation meant steering talk away from any potentially interesting subjects. Heaven forbid anyone should address a controversial topic over broiled salmon. I realized that Louisa was staring at me with her lips pressed into a prim line of disapproval; what had I done to annoy her this time?

  Oh right, I’d dared to use slang. Cha was one of many words that others could use in casual conversation but which Louisa felt was “inappropriate for a woman in my position.” I rolled my eyes but obediently rephrased my response.

  “Yes, Louisa. Are there any additional guests with the governors?”

  “Only some aides and secretaries for this trip. They’ll be dining separately.”

  “Marvi.” I used the slang term for marvelous deliberately, just to tweak Louisa’s sour dignity a bit. “I’ll be off then.”

  I stood and fluffed my skirts to shake out any wrinkles formed by sitting at the makeup table. Several of today’s events were sure to be recorded for the evening news-hologram, so I was dressed up, as always. But I’d chosen a pale yellow tunic-style gown that landed just above my knees and minimal jewelry to keep the ensemble as casual as I could get away with. While my father had always pampered and spoiled me to some extent, he had also trained me to be able to take care of myself – and others – in an emergency. That training was ingrained enough that I always chose clothing that was comfortable and allowed me to move freely.

  “I still believe that the blue chiffon I had selected would be a better choice for today. It’s more dignified,” Louisa said. As usual, she did not understand or approve of the reasons behind my clothing choices. She curled her lip in slight disapproval as she gave me a last once-over and reached out to twitch the chains of my long silver necklace into a more pleasing line.

  The blue chiffon certainly was more dignified. And it was also more suitable for a woman Louisa’s age than for a 19-year-old girl. Still, Louisa had bought it for me herself, and I didn’t want her to think I didn’t appreciate that gesture. In spite of her perpetually sour attitude I knew Louisa was always doing her best to ensure that I was a proper representative for my father. I decided to compromise enough to make her happy.

  “I thought the blue chiffon would be better for this evening. Since I have the school visit today, I didn’t want to take the chance that such a nice dress would get dirty or torn or anything.”

  Louisa looked primly horrified by such a possibility, and then gratified that I was taking such care with her gift. Now that I’d planted the idea that my clothing might be ruined by messy schoolchildren, she was happy to send me off in my casual yellow dress instead of the fussy blue gown.

  Leaving Louisa with a quick squeeze of her bony hand as thanks for her help, I headed down the stairs to meet the ridiculously large group of people escorting me today. I would definitely be surrounded by Secret Service officers and a few members of the White House press corps. There was usually also a small crowd of paparazzi and often a citizen or two looking for an autograph or photo op. It was nearly impossible to go anywhere unaccompanied when you were the president’s daughter and First Lady of the North American Alliance.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The day sped by in a bit of a blur. Since I spent almost every day attending ceremonies, luncheons, and various other events on behalf of my father, I didn’t have to pay a lot of attention. I just had to smile, nod, and shake hands … over and over again.

  As I stepped through the huge double doors of The St. Lucien following my lunch meeting, I paused for a moment to enjoy one of my favorite views of the city. The government sector of Goodland was crowded with buildings sheathed in bright, white stone, and the afternoon sun bounced off the gleaming walls with cheerful intensity.

  Even the long, wide streets were a pale gray stone that reflected the intense light. The trees, flowers, and flawless blue sky were so vividly colorful in contrast to the shining white buildings and streets that the whole scene looked like something from a movie. And from this viewpoint there was a view straight up the main boulevard that highlighted the graceful lines of the White House at the eastern end of the street. If I turned in the opposite direction, I knew I would see the impressive dome of the Capitol building and the dignified pillars of the Supreme Court dominating the western end.

  Of course, these weren’t the original government buildings. Those historic buildings had been destroyed by the flooding that had inundated Washington, D.C. – along with most of the other cities on the East Coast – as a result of melting polar ice caps back in the late 2100s. The East Coast had then been further decimated by intense bombing during the 3rd World War until all that remained were crumbled ruins covered by shallow seas. The area was a favorite spot for recreational diving and snorkeling now.

  During the war the country had been run from a series of hidden locations throughout the North American Alliance. But when the war finally came to an end in 2241, it was time to create a permanent national capital again. Goodland, Kansas, was the eventual choice for the new seat of government due to its location near the center of the newly formed alliance and the hopeful tone evoked by the city’s name. Goodland – what political spin artist could resist the chance to work with a perfect name like that? And, probably most important, Goodland was in an area that had been largely untouched by the war or the widespread flooding resulting from the melting of the arctic ice sheets.

  Old news reports had occasionally referred to the center of the United States as “fly-over states,” meaning that many politicians at the time didn’t feel that those areas were important enough to visit and would just “fly over” them on th
eir way to the more politically significant East Coast and West Coast cities.

  But that status worked to their advantage during the war, as bombers also flew right over the inland areas on their way to more prominent targets. While many large cities, especially those on each coast, were partially or entirely destroyed, Goodland and other small interior cities survived.

  To relocate the government, a veritable army of architects, city planners, and construction crews had descended on the quiet town of Goodland and transformed it into a major metropolis. It was a beautiful city now with soaring towers of steel and glass, wide, well-planned streets, an extensive and convenient transportation system, and an abundance of beautifully landscaped public parks and gardens.

  They had re-created the iconic government buildings as a symbol of the continuity of government in spite of adversity. Almost twenty years after the government section of the city was built, the buildings stood as strong emblems of law and order. This beautiful city had been my home since I was seven years old, and I loved it fiercely.

  My view of the street and the White House was interrupted by a large umbrella that a Secret Service agent had opened and extended over my head. I sighed a little and resisted the urge to shove the umbrella away. While most people outside at this time of day carried umbrellas or wore hats as a shade from the strong UV rays, I preferred to soak up the dazzling sunlight when I had the chance.

  Accepting that my small moment of relaxation had come to an end, I allowed the Secret Service agent to take my arm and guide me to the limo waiting on mag-lev tracks in front of the hotel.

  All city streets had multiple mag-lev rails embedded in the concrete. Since fossil-fueled vehicles were no longer allowed, the rails were for mag-lev vehicles like the limo. These vehicles had an undercarriage coated in strong solar-powered electromagnets that pushed back against the magnetized rails to allow the vehicle to levitate a short distance above the rail. Additional magnets created a push-pull effect to propel the vehicle along the track.

  Mag-lev buses and trains were everywhere in Goodland. The public transport system was so comprehensive that almost no one needed personal vehicles anymore. The mag-lev limos used by White House residents and guests were almost always the only small passenger vehicles on the road.

  When my father and I had the chance, we loved to sneak away from our security details for an exhilarating ride on the mag-lev bikes tucked away in the White House garages. A hidden exit from the garage let us slip away from the White House and into the streaming traffic on the streets of Goodland, our helmets rendering us faceless and as anonymous as any other citizen. Eluding our security escorts just added to the excitement of these little excursions.

  Mag-lev bikes were built to look like the motorcycles that were popular back in the days of fossil fuels with lots of shiny enameled paint and glittering chrome. Of course, unlike a motorcycle, the mag-lev bike didn’t run on wheels. Though there were rolling ball-bearings built into the base to allow the bike to roll when it was not on a rail, for actual traveling the bike relied on the strong, solar-powered electromagnets that made up the lower half of the bike. The bikes were fast, maneuverable, and lots of fun. My father and I enjoyed zipping past the slowly moving busses and sliding from rail to rail as we raced through the streets. There was an incredible rush of freedom from feeling the wind whip past me.

  I slid sedately into the limo as I wondered whether I could convince my father to take a late ride after we’d finished with the diplomatic dinner tonight. That would give us both something to look forward to as we endured another long evening of careful political maneuvering.

  As soon as the door closed behind me, I sat back in the comfortable seat and kicked off my shoes. Alone in the limo, having sent all my companions to ride in other vehicles, I allowed myself a few long, lazy stretches. I could have used a nap but had to content myself with fifteen minutes of solitude as we slid along the mag-lev tracks on the way to the school appearance.

  When I was younger I’d found this lifestyle incredibly glamorous and exciting; but at nineteen I’d already been the Acting First Lady for seven years, ever since my father had decided that a civilized government should have a First Lady and appointed me to the role.

  Though at first no one else really knew what to think of a twelve-year-old First Lady, my father and I had always taken the job very seriously. With Louisa’s dour assistance, I had learned to hostess state dinners, mingle with foreign and domestic dignitaries, and truly fill the role of a First Lady.

  I mostly enjoyed my position, and I felt like I was doing some good. I supported various worthy causes and helped things run smoothly at the White House as my father’s hostess. If I occasionally tired of my duties, I usually regained my enthusiasm with a bit of rest.

  I didn’t have to motivate myself for the next item on my schedule though. I loved it when I had the chance to visit a school and meet some of the nation’s children. Due to security concerns I had taken my own education courses either online or with tutors who came to the White House, so I’d never actually attended school. Because it was so different from my own learning experiences, it always felt like a treat to make a school visit.

  The Secret Service detail whisked me quickly from the limo to the classroom, but I had time to glimpse the colorful playset where children could run, climb, and slide. I’d never had the chance to play on one myself, but they looked like fun. I wondered what the evening news-holos would have to say if I suddenly broke free of my security detail to go swinging across the monkey bars.

  A smile at the ridiculous image still curved my lips as I entered the classroom. The smile grew wider as I saw the group of primary school students chosen for this session. They were waiting for me on a colorful rug in the center of the room. Several of them were practically vibrating with excitement as we walked into the room.

  Without waiting for introductions or instructions from the adults in the room, I took a seat on the low, cushioned stool that sat on the rug. The students were seated in a semi-circle around me, crowding as close as they could reasonably get. I didn’t mind the little touches and pats or even the occasional child hugging my legs. I enjoyed their innocent smiles and enthusiasm so much.

  Leaning forward to catch their attention, I asked the children, “I hear that you are the best history and government students in the school; is that true?”

  They all nodded enthusiastically and talked over each other in an attempt to tell me what great history students they were. I listened to everyone as best I could with a smile on my face and then gently interrupted. Otherwise, I think the children would have been happy to chatter at me all afternoon.

  “Who can tell me what holiday we’re celebrating next week?”

  Hands shot up around the room and I randomly selected a child to answer. Her name tag read, “Linett, age 11.”

  “Go ahead, Linett,” I encouraged.

  “Next week is Establishment Day. That’s the day that the North American Alliance was formed from the countries of Canada, the United States, and Mexico.”

  “Very good,” I praised her, and she beamed at me. “Next week marks twenty-five years since the North American Alliance was established. I bet one of you can tell me the reasons that the Alliance was formed…”

  More eager volunteers waved at me and this time I selected a little boy whose tag said he was “Tobee, age 10.”

  “The country of Russia started taking over other countries because they wanted more power, and lots of countries tried to work together to fight against Russia. And then China started taking over other countries too because they needed more land for all their people after the rising sea levels took away a lot of their country and they thought everyone was so busy fighting with Russia that they wouldn’t pay attention to China.

  “Russia and China were really big and powerful, so all the smaller countries started joining together to defend themselves. And after a while we had just 10 countries in the world: China, the European U
nion, Korea-Japan, the Latin American Federation, New Persia, the North American Alliance, Oceania, Pan-Arabia, Russia, and the United African Republics.”

  Most of the other children joined in with his sing-song recitation of the countries of the world, obviously something they had practiced together in school.

  “Very good!” I praised them. “You’ve been paying attention to your lessons.”

  Tobee grinned proudly, and I smiled back before continuing.

  “You all know that my father is the President of the NAA. And my job is to help him with his job. Our biggest goal is to preserve world peace. Now that the 3rd World War is finally over, I think everyone just wants things to stay calm and peaceful, right?”

  There was a lot of enthusiastic nodding, and the children started showing off their knowledge again; spouting random facts in my direction to impress me with their intelligence. I listened cheerfully, assuring each child that I was thoroughly engaged.

  “Your father has been President for ten years already.”

  “The war lasted 30 years, and that’s prob’ly the longest a war ever lasted.”

  “And then after the war the new government built a whole new capital city ‘cause the old one got bombed and stuff.”

  “Yeah! Lots and lots of cities got bombed, and now nobody can even live there anymore.”

  “Not just ‘cause of the bombs though. Some of the cities got flooded ‘cause of the oceans getting higher and some places people can’t live ‘cause the weather changed too much. That’s why we have lots of different cities now.”

  “Especially in Mexico and Canada! They got flooded lots and lots and have too many places that are too cold or too hot now, so that’s why most people live in the part of the Alliance that used to be the USA.”

  “My dad says that if I want to I could maybe be President when I’m grown up. But I think I would rather be a ‘splorer and explore the ruined cities. They look marvi.”