“Jon… Jon?” “Henry, I don’t think that’s Jon.” “Looks like Jon.” “No, dear, that boy has smaller shoulders than Jon, and he’s a darker green, but the resemblance is uncanny. Stop the wagon, I think he’s in trouble.” Jon heard the wagon pulling to a stop, but couldn’t see it. The sun on this planet was too bright for amphibian eyes evolved on the ocean world of Atan; he was sun blind. He heard someone getting down from the wagon and dropped a hand to his revolver. “Hold on there, son,” said a man’s voice. “We’re friends. You must be from the Gunslingers Guild to be allowed to have guns. Where’s your sunglasses and hat?” “I… umm… I don’t have any sunglasses.” Jon heard someone else getting off the wagon, probably the woman. “Henry, you know how they are about Gunslingers,” said the woman. “If he came in on that Atan ship we saw landing, they might have just waved him through Customs without making him go through the mandatory briefing for Atan refugees.” Jon heard the sound of cloth tearing. “I’m standing right in front of you, dear, I won’t hurt you. I’m going to put a piece of cloth over your eyes.” Jon vaguely saw the shape of the woman raise her hands, then darkness was over his eyes and he felt her tying the cloth behind his head. “I’m putting a hat on your head, young man,” said the man’s voice. “You Atans have to be careful here, especially in the summer, your eyes are too sensitive for our sun.” “What planet is this?” asked Jon. “You don’t know?” asked the man. “You must have been in slow sleep until landing, you shouldn’t have skipped customs. This is Belraous Colony.” Jon adjusted the cloth over his eyes. “I think I have a relative here.” “I’m guessing its Jon Black, the family resemblance is plain to see,” said the man. “He was adopted by the Walker family.” Jon cocked his head to the side. “So, he is here, but… why would someone adopt him, that doesn’t make sense.” The woman took Jon by the arm. “Belranians are very good about finding homes for orphaned children. I think our County has taken in at least forty of the Atan refugee children. Let’s get you on the wagon, we can sort everything out at home and decide what to do then.” “Wait… how old is the Jon Black you have?” “Well, he was nine when he arrived, isn’t that right, Henry?” “Yep, he’s thirteen now, looks about the same age as you,” replied Henry. Jon let the woman lead him to the wagon. “The Jon Black I’m looking for is in his eighties.” “Oh, I see, a grandfather then?” said the man. “Well, a man can have more than one grandson, and I know with the disaster that hit the Atans, you’ve probably lost all track of family members, but the good news is you might have a cousin here, or even a lost brother.” “Here’s the wagon, dear,” said the woman. “You didn’t tell us your name.” “Neither did you,” said Jon as he heaved himself up into the wagon. “Fair point, I’m Martha, and this is Henry.” Jon felt around the back of the wagon for a place to sit. He found sacks of what he thought was either grain, or corn, stacked in the wagon. “You’re not going to believe me if I tell you who I am,” said Jon, sitting on one of the sacks of grain. “We’ve got to call you something,” said Henry. From the direction of Henry’s voice, he was walking around to the front of the wagon. This was confirmed when Jon felt the shift in weight of the wagon as Henry climbed up on the buckboard. “Okay, I’m Jon Black.” Henry didn’t skip a beat. “Is Jon a common name among the Atan?” Jon turned his head toward the sound of Henry’s voice; the man had a deep voice with a twangy country accent. Jon shook his head. “Jon isn’t a name, it’s a title, and it’s only a coincidence that it’s a name among humans.” The wagon jerked and began moving as Henry made a clicking sound to the horses. "What's it mean?" asked Henry. “It’s an ancient word from a long time ago. It means, War-Lord, and the word after is your clan, but there aren’t really any Atan War-Lords left. One of my ancestors knew we couldn’t keep ruling as War-Lords, and so he founded the Gunslinger Order. Now anyone that inherits the title of Jon is automatically offered membership into the Order and we serve our clan as lawmen. But, you don’t have to become a Gunslinger, because that changed later. Some of the Jon’s serve in other capacities, like doctors, engineers, ship captains, and… well, anything.” “I get it,” said Henry. “It’s an honorary title of nobility, but I think the modern meaning might be, one who serves. But that also means you don’t have your own name.” Jon found the buckboard and knelt behind it with his elbows on the bench. “Wow, you really do get it. I always have a hard time trying to explain it.” “When the Atans first started showing up, they gave us a book on Atan culture. I assume you’re serving as a Gunslinger,” said Henry. “I had no choice,” said Jon. “I was selected specifically to serve as a Gunslinger, which is rare, but when that happens, it’s a matter of family honor and you have to do it.” “What do you want to be?” asked Henry. Jon paused for a moment, then blurted out. “I want to be an engineer and build bridges.” “You’re not the first boy to have obligations to family shadow your personal dreams.” Jon felt Martha take his hand and put something in it. “It’s a sandwich, dear, don’t worry, Atans and Humans can eat the same foods.” Jon already knew that, but he thanked her and stuffed the sandwich in his mouth. He was starving and scarfed the sandwich down in three bites. When he was done, he asked: “Is the Jon Black that lives here a Gunslinger?” “There’s a good story,” said Henry. “That boy fights like a wildcat. About a year ago, robberies along these roads started up. Jon and Cael went into town and asked the Sheriff to deputize them…” Jon’s head whipped around, Cael? It was too much of a coincidence for there to be a Cael and a Jon Black on the same planet. But… Jon realized what must have happened. His elder self had removed Cael’s memories, and reset him back to nine years old, but the elder Jon Black must have also reset himself back to nine years old, and then arranged it so the Walker family would adopt him. Jon had seen the pain on his predecessor’s face when Cael had died. Of course, Cael only died in the Crystal Universe, his reward for service was to be returned to his mortal life with no memory of his service as the Lord of Chaos. Jon felt a terrible wave of guilt wash over him. The loyalty the elder Jon Black was showing toward his Cael was staggering. Jon, the younger Jon, had never given Lady Cael that same friendship. He did his job and guarded her, but he’d been so busy feeling sorry for himself, he’d never given friendship a chance. “…Well, the Sheriff figured it was just two boys playing a game,” continued Henry. “So, he deputized the boys as Junior Deputies and told them they were assigned to stand guard over their own farm, and let the Sheriff know if they saw anything suspicious. It seemed harmless enough, but four days later, Jon and Cael marched the six bandits that had been plaguing the roads into town at gunpoint. All the bandits had to be hospitalized for several weeks for multiple injuries. Nobody knows where Jon got the six-shooter from, or how he took down six bandits, but the Sheriff didn’t question it and Jon still wears the gun. That boy was born to be a Gunslinger, no doubt of that.” Jon had no doubt of it either. If it was the elder Jon Black, he might be temporarily in the body of a thirteen year old, but he had the mind and experience of a ten thousand year old Marshal. There wouldn’t be anyone on this backwater planet that could challenge the elder Jon Black, regardless of the body he currently occupied. “What about Cael?” “I can only tell you what I heard, but I heard Ma Walker went full brown bear on Jon for taking Cael into danger like that. I heard Jon had to sleep in the cornfield for three days until she calmed down. It looked like the boy’s lawman days were over, until the Gunslinger Marshal showed up and cut a deal with his Ma – Jon can pursue a career as a lawman, but Cael is off-limits.” Jon sat back and wiggled between the sacks of grain for a place to lay back. If he had to guess, Jon Black would end up being the Colony Marshal, and Cael would become the Colony Governor. The two ‘brothers’ would live a good life here. Jon closed his eyes and made a mental promise to be nicer to Lady Cael; he wanted the kind of friendship Jon Black and Cael had. At some point he must have fallen asleep, it was dark when he woke in a bed under a thick blanket. Henry must have carried him in from the wagon. He wanted to go back to sleep, but his stomach was rumbling with hunger. The only thing he’d eaten yesterday was the sandwich Martha had given him. He sat up and looked around the small room. Shadows danced on the wall from a faint light coming from the open door. He pushed the blanket back and swung his feet over the side of the bed. There were clothes and his guns stacked on a chair next to the bed. He looked down at himself, he was wearing a one-piece red under-garment, sort of like pajamas. He didn’t want to think about how that had happened. He’d never had a mother or father help him get dressed and it was strange to think that he’d been so tired that someone had needed to help him get ready for bed. But…for him to have let his guard down like that meant this was a special place, a safe place. Was this what it felt like to have parents? Is that why the elder Jon Black had done such an odd thing to come here so he could experience what it was like to be normal? He stood and went to the door. Martha was sitting next to a cast iron stove with a needle and thread repairing a shirt. She looked up and startled with a little cry, then looked away. “I promise not to eat your brains,” said Jon, walking over to the stove. “Most species don’t find out they aren’t alone in the universe until they discover Gate technology.” Martha patted her chest and took a breath. “Oh, no dear, that isn’t what startled me.” “What then?” asked Jon. The woman sighed and set her sewing aside. “When Henry built this cabin, we were young and planned to have children, but that never happened. That room was supposed to be for the child we had hoped for, so… I was concentrating on sewing and my mind was elsewhere, and when I looked up it startled me to see a boy standing in the doorway.” Jon grinned. “The pajamas are nice.” Martha laughed lightly. “Don’t worry, dear, I turned around while you put them on.” “I put them on?” “You were half asleep and Henry helped you.” Martha scooped some stew into a bowl. She handed the bowl of meat and potatoes to Jon with a smile. “Sit down and eat, and then back to bed.” “I need to use the bathroom,” said Jon. “The outhouse is out back. Your boots are next to the front door, and take the lantern with you.” Jon went to the door and slipped into his boots. “I don’t need the lantern, my eyes work best in the dark.” Jon slipped outside into the night. He pulled the door shut and headed around the log cabin to the back. He was halfway to the outhouse when he sensed someone watching him. “You shouldn’t be here,” said a voice. Jon slowly turned around. A boy his age was staring at him; an Atan boy, the elder Jon Black, but in the body of a thirteen year old boy. “Jack Dreamer was stabbed with a magic dagger. We think it was made in the peaches can. I was sent to find out how the magic artifacts Cael left behind work. Everyone thinks one of them might be the answer to save Jack.” “I’ll show you what their purpose was, and then you leave,” said Jon Black. “I’ll come see in the morning, Martha is waiting for me inside.” “She’s not real, Jon, nobody on this planet is real,” said Jon Black. “This place is a fantasy, an amusement park, a dream come into reality. This is an alternate timeline for Cael and myself to live a perfect life. This place gives you what you truly want. Don’t you think it odd that you were found by a couple that always wanted a son – they’re the fantasy of the parents you’ve always wanted. The real Martha and Henry died ten-thousand years ago.” Jon squared his shoulders. “I’ll come in the morning.” “I wasn’t asking.” Jon headed back around the house. “I’ll see you in the morning.” The elder Jon Black waved a hand at the cabin and it faded away until it was gone like a forgotten dream. The only thing that remained was the chair with Jon’s clothing and the twin guns still sitting on the chair. Jon turned and screamed futilely at the elder Jon Black. “This isn’t fair!” “Gather your things, you're leaving tonight."