The First Love Of Alipang Havens
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Copperfox
Well-known member
Pitchike, I'm not kidding when I say that I hope to get around to recording my voice reading the Alipang stories as audiobooks. Would you buy a copy? Note that, as per some friend's advice, I would add a few extra scenes to "First Love," in order to expand the audience's acquaintance with Alipang's adoptive parents and other supporting characters.
Copperfox
Well-known member
(Current chapter needs one more scene)
On board the Orbital Palace, nineteen hours after the shuttle carrying Anne-Marie Rand had set out for North America, Hsing Ti-Lao from the Moon colony posed at the center of a group photograph, being preserved in both 2-D and 3-D forms. The American woman shown shaking hands with her in the tableau was neither Samantha Ford nor Carlota Ruiz, but Secretary of State Megavolt Atkinson. Carlota and Samantha had both been allowed to take part in the negotiations with Dr. Hsing; but the Chinese woman, wearying of these intellectual lightweights, had commanded the presence of a higher-ranking woman before she would give the approval for Moon visits by Diversity States researchers. Her government in Beijing had always intended to give this approval, but had preferred to make the Americans beg a bit first.
The two ambassadors were in the picture, but positioned at one edge of the group, with Chinese staffers between them and the two in the center. When the photo session was ended, their own Secretary of State barely even took any notice of them, continuing to fawn on Dr. Hsing. Carlota slung an arm around Samantha, saying, "Shall we go have something to eat?"
Samantha put one of her own arms around Carlota in turn. "We might as well; neither of us is needed to return to Earth right away, and Meg hasn't told us yet if she has new assistants picked out for us."
The Ambassador-At-Large was referring to the fact that she and Carlota had been abandoned by Cassandra and Nalani, with as startling a suddenness as when Nalani had left Samantha for Carlota in Beijing. Meg Atkinson, upon arriving at the space station, had summoned Nalani to a short private meeting, where she had offered the Hawaiian woman the position of Diversity States Consul in the former state of Hawaii. Nalani had instantly requested that Cassandra be made her Vice-Consul, and the Secretary of State had just as instantly agreed. So, with scarcely a farewell to their recent companions, Nalani and Cassandra had left for Earth on the shuttle flight just after Anne-Marie's.
As the spoke-elevator took them from the hub to the rim where the restaurants were, the two ambassadors reminisced on old times--which were not so far back in the past, as both women were still reasonably young. (Besides, thanks to modern telomere preservation, they had the same health as if they were even younger.) Both realized now that they would not mind working with each other again, if not that they were both ambassadors now and neither could be subordinate to the other. But they would continue to share a room, and would go on enjoying the space hotel's pleasures, until they had to return to work Earthside.
Samantha chose an eating spot she had not yet sampled: The Ivory Bowl, dedicated to the cuisine of those Asian countries which Greater China had annexed. They were free to eat meat here in sovereign Chinese territory, and Samantha was curious about how chicken with peanut sauce tasted.
Although the two women were adjusted by now to walking in the fractional gravity of the rotating wheel, there was one peculiarity they had not yet fully mastered: the fact that, with a reduced sensation of one's own weight, one might walk forward at a faster speed than one was conscious of doing, because of the lesser exertion required. Walking in the entrance of the restaurant, Samantha and Carlota were looking at each other while sharing some joke, and so did not see the massive man who stood in their path--not intentionally barring their way, but simply talking to the man at the greeter's position.
The way the ambassadors first noticed the big man was by colliding with him and bouncing off him. Both women began a most undignified slow-motion fall onto their backsides; but they never hit the deck. With astonishing speed, the man swung around, seeming to realize exactly what had happened and why, and grabbed an arm of each of the women, with just enough force to arrest their fall and raise them to their feet again without hurting them.
"Are you ladies all right?" It was none other than the Burmese safety guard Nyunt Zeyar.
"Get your gorilla paws off me!" Carlota snapped. "What do you mean, getting in our way like that?"
"I wasn't moving," the guard calmly replied, sounding as if it was beneath his dignity to be offended by a foreigner's ingratitude. "But my difference from you in mass is unchanged by the low gravity. It takes time to be fully adjusted here. People bump into me all the time; I seem to take up space, yet without always being seen. But I don't blame people for not looking at me; I'm considerably less attractive than either of you."
Samantha, disdainful of males though she was, could tell that Nyunt Zeyar was not coming on to them or anything of the sort--merely being friendly, when he could himself have been the one to get angry at their carelessness. But Carlota, in a huff, would not hear of eating in The Ivory Bowl now; and since Carlota and not the Burmese man was her social companion, Samantha went along. Peanut sauce would have to wait. In the corridor, however, she did say in Spanish to Carlota, "Remember our position--our country's position. America is no longer taken seriously. A mere employee of a Chinese resort now has at least as much prestige as a high official from America. That man could have gotten US in trouble for being rude to him, but he was being gracious to us."
"And you're being gracious to ME," Carlota murmured suddenly, "by saying 'us,' when I was the one who was rude to that elephant. But you're right--not only about me, but about America. Still, we don't actually WANT our country to go back to being the fascist bully of the Earth, do we?"
"As for that...." Samantha paused. There was no doubt in her mind that anything they said anywhere on the space station was heard and recorded, unless it were in the shielded courtesy offices. But in this case, she could say what was on her mind without worrying about governmental confidentiality. "I'm not sure if we know what we do really want."
On board the Orbital Palace, nineteen hours after the shuttle carrying Anne-Marie Rand had set out for North America, Hsing Ti-Lao from the Moon colony posed at the center of a group photograph, being preserved in both 2-D and 3-D forms. The American woman shown shaking hands with her in the tableau was neither Samantha Ford nor Carlota Ruiz, but Secretary of State Megavolt Atkinson. Carlota and Samantha had both been allowed to take part in the negotiations with Dr. Hsing; but the Chinese woman, wearying of these intellectual lightweights, had commanded the presence of a higher-ranking woman before she would give the approval for Moon visits by Diversity States researchers. Her government in Beijing had always intended to give this approval, but had preferred to make the Americans beg a bit first.
The two ambassadors were in the picture, but positioned at one edge of the group, with Chinese staffers between them and the two in the center. When the photo session was ended, their own Secretary of State barely even took any notice of them, continuing to fawn on Dr. Hsing. Carlota slung an arm around Samantha, saying, "Shall we go have something to eat?"
Samantha put one of her own arms around Carlota in turn. "We might as well; neither of us is needed to return to Earth right away, and Meg hasn't told us yet if she has new assistants picked out for us."
The Ambassador-At-Large was referring to the fact that she and Carlota had been abandoned by Cassandra and Nalani, with as startling a suddenness as when Nalani had left Samantha for Carlota in Beijing. Meg Atkinson, upon arriving at the space station, had summoned Nalani to a short private meeting, where she had offered the Hawaiian woman the position of Diversity States Consul in the former state of Hawaii. Nalani had instantly requested that Cassandra be made her Vice-Consul, and the Secretary of State had just as instantly agreed. So, with scarcely a farewell to their recent companions, Nalani and Cassandra had left for Earth on the shuttle flight just after Anne-Marie's.
As the spoke-elevator took them from the hub to the rim where the restaurants were, the two ambassadors reminisced on old times--which were not so far back in the past, as both women were still reasonably young. (Besides, thanks to modern telomere preservation, they had the same health as if they were even younger.) Both realized now that they would not mind working with each other again, if not that they were both ambassadors now and neither could be subordinate to the other. But they would continue to share a room, and would go on enjoying the space hotel's pleasures, until they had to return to work Earthside.
Samantha chose an eating spot she had not yet sampled: The Ivory Bowl, dedicated to the cuisine of those Asian countries which Greater China had annexed. They were free to eat meat here in sovereign Chinese territory, and Samantha was curious about how chicken with peanut sauce tasted.
Although the two women were adjusted by now to walking in the fractional gravity of the rotating wheel, there was one peculiarity they had not yet fully mastered: the fact that, with a reduced sensation of one's own weight, one might walk forward at a faster speed than one was conscious of doing, because of the lesser exertion required. Walking in the entrance of the restaurant, Samantha and Carlota were looking at each other while sharing some joke, and so did not see the massive man who stood in their path--not intentionally barring their way, but simply talking to the man at the greeter's position.
The way the ambassadors first noticed the big man was by colliding with him and bouncing off him. Both women began a most undignified slow-motion fall onto their backsides; but they never hit the deck. With astonishing speed, the man swung around, seeming to realize exactly what had happened and why, and grabbed an arm of each of the women, with just enough force to arrest their fall and raise them to their feet again without hurting them.
"Are you ladies all right?" It was none other than the Burmese safety guard Nyunt Zeyar.
"Get your gorilla paws off me!" Carlota snapped. "What do you mean, getting in our way like that?"
"I wasn't moving," the guard calmly replied, sounding as if it was beneath his dignity to be offended by a foreigner's ingratitude. "But my difference from you in mass is unchanged by the low gravity. It takes time to be fully adjusted here. People bump into me all the time; I seem to take up space, yet without always being seen. But I don't blame people for not looking at me; I'm considerably less attractive than either of you."
Samantha, disdainful of males though she was, could tell that Nyunt Zeyar was not coming on to them or anything of the sort--merely being friendly, when he could himself have been the one to get angry at their carelessness. But Carlota, in a huff, would not hear of eating in The Ivory Bowl now; and since Carlota and not the Burmese man was her social companion, Samantha went along. Peanut sauce would have to wait. In the corridor, however, she did say in Spanish to Carlota, "Remember our position--our country's position. America is no longer taken seriously. A mere employee of a Chinese resort now has at least as much prestige as a high official from America. That man could have gotten US in trouble for being rude to him, but he was being gracious to us."
"And you're being gracious to ME," Carlota murmured suddenly, "by saying 'us,' when I was the one who was rude to that elephant. But you're right--not only about me, but about America. Still, we don't actually WANT our country to go back to being the fascist bully of the Earth, do we?"
"As for that...." Samantha paused. There was no doubt in her mind that anything they said anywhere on the space station was heard and recorded, unless it were in the shielded courtesy offices. But in this case, she could say what was on her mind without worrying about governmental confidentiality. "I'm not sure if we know what we do really want."
Last edited:
Zella
New member
Those clashes in Texas do seem suspicious.
I'm glad Anne-Marie is back with her family, and I really like the poem. I hope it doesn't cause them any more trouble!
I like Nyunt Zeyar; he seems like a normal person, as opposed to many of the men encountered outside the enclave.
I'm glad Anne-Marie is back with her family, and I really like the poem. I hope it doesn't cause them any more trouble!
I like Nyunt Zeyar; he seems like a normal person, as opposed to many of the men encountered outside the enclave.
Copperfox
Well-known member
Chapter 41: The First Ones to Get Out
Bert and his new dependents remained in Casper through that Sunday, but did not attend worship at The Church of the Faithful. An hour and a half before the service, Bert had a chance to tell Abraham Zondei in person why he was staying away:
"Sylvia Lathrop, up in Sussex, is really crashers as an evangelist; if there were actually such things as vampires, I think she could convert them back into normal humans. But I have technically not yet made a commitment to your faith; and while winging it through this situation, I have to _stay_ nominally heathen. If I declare for Jesus, Ma'at and the kids will do likewise....and my case for letting them leave the Enclave partly _depends_ on being able to say to the Overseers that as of the time of release, they _aren't_ members of that group which the Enclave was created to confine."
"I'll pray--privately--that you can pull it off," replied the pastor; "and that someone on the outside can then help you through the last step."
"Should be no worries, Reverend; Australia has religious freedom, and now I have more incentive than ever before to listen to the preachers."
So for a couple of hours, Bert, Ma'at, Meretseger and Montu had the Havens house to themselves. By Eric and Bert camping out in the dental office by night, with Harmony sharing a bed with her mother, and Lorraine and Ransom having soon returned to Sussex, it had proven easy enough to house the whole Randall-Wazir party. Ma'at had been anxious not to be away from Bert's side. Now, while the four of them did things in the kitchen and dining room to prepare for everyone's after-church dinner, Bert shared some confidences with his now-desired family:
"I need to tell you more about me and my feelings, so you all can better understand why it is that I actually DO want to make the three of you my own family for real.
"I'm thirty-five years old; and although people on average live long enough now that thirty-five _isn't_ past anyone's prime, I _have_ lived long enough that I can see things I've missed. Before I came inside the Enclave, I had an encounter that focussed this for me. In the course of my work, I had become acquainted with an American diplomat named Samantha Ford; and then I met her son Daffy." (Bert didn't say "Daffodil," because he didn't want this talk digressing onto the subject of what was happening to child-naming in America.) "Daffy's about your age, Meretseger; but he has nothing like your presence of mind, because where you and your brother at least have one good and loving parent, that poor boy effectively has NO parental presence in his life. Talking with Daffy, and seeing how hungry he was for adult acceptance and affirmation, I thought about the fact that, if I had married early, I could by now _have_ a son his age."
Ma'at, starting to set the table, put down a stack of plates too loudly, and stared at Bert. "Are you saying...that you want this Ford woman? That once you've gotten us out, you want to go to HER, and be a father to HER son?" When she had said this, Meretseger and Montu caught each other's eye tensely.
Bert went up to Ma'at and kissed her. "No, that isn't what I mean at all. Remember that I had not yet met you at the time I'm talking about; and besides, Ambassador Ford makes me want to vomit, which is probably also the way I make her feel. But I feel awful for that boy of hers; and although I still believe in the value of the work I do, meeting Daffy gave me a deeper sense of what has to be done on the _human_ level in this world."
Looking ashamed, Ma'at lowered her gaze. "I'm sorry. Please don't be angry; I had no right to be jealous."
Bert's reaction to this was to enfold her in his arms and cuddle her where they stood. "It's all right, sweetheart. You're on edge, because you have the hope of liberation, but you're not out of prison yet. Anyone in your position would be tense and anxious. I wish we were already in the clear, but we're not. Still, I can already say that I love you; so let me say more about WHY.
"The reminder that I _could_ be a father became blended with all the thoughts I've had over the years, going back before your country became the Diversity States, about, well, about how life _ought_ to be, for societies and for individuals. I confess that I have not exactly kept my hands off all women in my time; but even so, my involvement with ladies not only was always with their consent, but it was also done with a mind to finding a wife eventually. With America no longer upholding the cause of normal marriage and families in the world, my own country is one of the main strongholds for those things now. And I came into the Enclave with all these thoughts churning in my brain.
"Then I met you in Rapid City. Learning what you had fled from, and how you were doing the best you knew how for your kids--in contrast to that Ambassador twit!--I admired you for your determination. You remember what I said then about staying in touch; I meant it when I said it, not realizing that you would soon be in a crisis which it seemed only I could get you out of.
"Ma'at, the kind of men you grew up with in the Cantonment are NOT what men are supposed to be, any more than Deputy Dockerty is. A man should want to _rescue_ women and children in distress, not _cause_ their distress himself. And it is my good luck that the woman and children I have a chance to rescue are three persons whom I'll be _glad_ to share my life with."
All this while, he had still been holding Ma'at close. Now, she turned her face up toward his, with very genuine tears in her dark eyes. "I wish I could be a great beauty for you, instead of being so drab and plain and worn out."
Bert laughed. "Sweetheart, _every_ forty-year-old woman should be so lucky as to be as 'plain' as you are!"
Ma'at fell deathly silent, and both her children swallowed hard. Then she whispered, "I'm not forty. I'm a month short of thirty-two. They married us off young in the Cantonment. I was forcibly married to that toad Najib when I was fifteen; and if not for government controls on fertility, he would have sired more than two children on me. I look forty because of all that I've endured."
Montu chimed in to support his mother's statement: "You can look it up in the census database; she really is thirty-one. But she poured out her youth trying to make life bearable for my sister and me."
"Plus being beaten up all the time for no reason," Meretseger added grimly.
Still embracing Ma'at with one arm, Bert gestured toward the children with the other. "Have you kids ever heard of a group hug?" He soon was initiating them to this experience, while telling them, "Whatever your mother's age, AND whatever her _apparent_ age, I say she is a treasure, and that makes her children treasures too! So let's hope for the best."
Bert and his new dependents remained in Casper through that Sunday, but did not attend worship at The Church of the Faithful. An hour and a half before the service, Bert had a chance to tell Abraham Zondei in person why he was staying away:
"Sylvia Lathrop, up in Sussex, is really crashers as an evangelist; if there were actually such things as vampires, I think she could convert them back into normal humans. But I have technically not yet made a commitment to your faith; and while winging it through this situation, I have to _stay_ nominally heathen. If I declare for Jesus, Ma'at and the kids will do likewise....and my case for letting them leave the Enclave partly _depends_ on being able to say to the Overseers that as of the time of release, they _aren't_ members of that group which the Enclave was created to confine."
"I'll pray--privately--that you can pull it off," replied the pastor; "and that someone on the outside can then help you through the last step."
"Should be no worries, Reverend; Australia has religious freedom, and now I have more incentive than ever before to listen to the preachers."
So for a couple of hours, Bert, Ma'at, Meretseger and Montu had the Havens house to themselves. By Eric and Bert camping out in the dental office by night, with Harmony sharing a bed with her mother, and Lorraine and Ransom having soon returned to Sussex, it had proven easy enough to house the whole Randall-Wazir party. Ma'at had been anxious not to be away from Bert's side. Now, while the four of them did things in the kitchen and dining room to prepare for everyone's after-church dinner, Bert shared some confidences with his now-desired family:
"I need to tell you more about me and my feelings, so you all can better understand why it is that I actually DO want to make the three of you my own family for real.
"I'm thirty-five years old; and although people on average live long enough now that thirty-five _isn't_ past anyone's prime, I _have_ lived long enough that I can see things I've missed. Before I came inside the Enclave, I had an encounter that focussed this for me. In the course of my work, I had become acquainted with an American diplomat named Samantha Ford; and then I met her son Daffy." (Bert didn't say "Daffodil," because he didn't want this talk digressing onto the subject of what was happening to child-naming in America.) "Daffy's about your age, Meretseger; but he has nothing like your presence of mind, because where you and your brother at least have one good and loving parent, that poor boy effectively has NO parental presence in his life. Talking with Daffy, and seeing how hungry he was for adult acceptance and affirmation, I thought about the fact that, if I had married early, I could by now _have_ a son his age."
Ma'at, starting to set the table, put down a stack of plates too loudly, and stared at Bert. "Are you saying...that you want this Ford woman? That once you've gotten us out, you want to go to HER, and be a father to HER son?" When she had said this, Meretseger and Montu caught each other's eye tensely.
Bert went up to Ma'at and kissed her. "No, that isn't what I mean at all. Remember that I had not yet met you at the time I'm talking about; and besides, Ambassador Ford makes me want to vomit, which is probably also the way I make her feel. But I feel awful for that boy of hers; and although I still believe in the value of the work I do, meeting Daffy gave me a deeper sense of what has to be done on the _human_ level in this world."
Looking ashamed, Ma'at lowered her gaze. "I'm sorry. Please don't be angry; I had no right to be jealous."
Bert's reaction to this was to enfold her in his arms and cuddle her where they stood. "It's all right, sweetheart. You're on edge, because you have the hope of liberation, but you're not out of prison yet. Anyone in your position would be tense and anxious. I wish we were already in the clear, but we're not. Still, I can already say that I love you; so let me say more about WHY.
"The reminder that I _could_ be a father became blended with all the thoughts I've had over the years, going back before your country became the Diversity States, about, well, about how life _ought_ to be, for societies and for individuals. I confess that I have not exactly kept my hands off all women in my time; but even so, my involvement with ladies not only was always with their consent, but it was also done with a mind to finding a wife eventually. With America no longer upholding the cause of normal marriage and families in the world, my own country is one of the main strongholds for those things now. And I came into the Enclave with all these thoughts churning in my brain.
"Then I met you in Rapid City. Learning what you had fled from, and how you were doing the best you knew how for your kids--in contrast to that Ambassador twit!--I admired you for your determination. You remember what I said then about staying in touch; I meant it when I said it, not realizing that you would soon be in a crisis which it seemed only I could get you out of.
"Ma'at, the kind of men you grew up with in the Cantonment are NOT what men are supposed to be, any more than Deputy Dockerty is. A man should want to _rescue_ women and children in distress, not _cause_ their distress himself. And it is my good luck that the woman and children I have a chance to rescue are three persons whom I'll be _glad_ to share my life with."
All this while, he had still been holding Ma'at close. Now, she turned her face up toward his, with very genuine tears in her dark eyes. "I wish I could be a great beauty for you, instead of being so drab and plain and worn out."
Bert laughed. "Sweetheart, _every_ forty-year-old woman should be so lucky as to be as 'plain' as you are!"
Ma'at fell deathly silent, and both her children swallowed hard. Then she whispered, "I'm not forty. I'm a month short of thirty-two. They married us off young in the Cantonment. I was forcibly married to that toad Najib when I was fifteen; and if not for government controls on fertility, he would have sired more than two children on me. I look forty because of all that I've endured."
Montu chimed in to support his mother's statement: "You can look it up in the census database; she really is thirty-one. But she poured out her youth trying to make life bearable for my sister and me."
"Plus being beaten up all the time for no reason," Meretseger added grimly.
Still embracing Ma'at with one arm, Bert gestured toward the children with the other. "Have you kids ever heard of a group hug?" He soon was initiating them to this experience, while telling them, "Whatever your mother's age, AND whatever her _apparent_ age, I say she is a treasure, and that makes her children treasures too! So let's hope for the best."
Copperfox
Well-known member
Bert got to see Abraham Zondei again, for the Havens brought him home from church for dinner. Also entering the house was an athletic-looking woman Bert and his companions had never seen.
"This is Ruby Vincent," Cecilia explained. "She's a Grange volunteer, who got acquainted with our church the last time she was in town, so now she's joined us again. Ruby, meet Bert, Ma'at, Meretseger and Montu."
Ruby shook hands with Ma'at. "I can't stay away from that trombone-clarinet combination. Pleased to meet you, and congratulations on what I hear you have coming up with Mr. Randall. This weekend I'm carrying letters from the western towns and farms, mainly letters going to persons _outside_ the Enclave, so they need to pass through the censor's office here in Casper."
"And I have to finish letters to Melody and Chilena before she leaves again!" interjected Harmony.
Still facing Ma'at, Ruby continued, "I meant to say, do you want to send out a letter to anyone? About your engagement?"
Ma'at looked uneasy. "Thanks, but I don't want to jinx it." She was unsure whether she wanted to admit that she knew no one outside the fence who cared if she had good news or not.
"As you think best. But I have a favor to ask of you. Cecilia tells me that your daughter's a talented dancer. I was once a theater major, before--things changed. Here, among coal miners, bear hunters and Amish farmers, I don't get to see much of any performing arts. Before I go, is there any chance I could get to see Merta-- Metra-- see your daughter dance? It wouldn't exactly have blended with 'How Great Thou Art,' but it would be wonderful to watch here."
"Dr. Havens, would that be all right?" Ma'at asked the head of the household.
"Sure, why not? None of us here are stuffy prigs. That is, if Meretseger herself is willing." All eyes went to the girl, who shyly but clearly nodded her agreement.
"Dancing comes _more_ naturally to my daughter than talking," remarked Ma'at to the newcomer.
"That's because back in Michigan, in the Cantonment, she was always being told to shut up," Montu explained. "Not by me or by Mom, you understand. By the thing that claimed to be the father of my sister and me."
"I understand," said Pastor Zondei. "There's a lot of that in Africa."
"I understand, too," Ruby told the boy. "At my old university, before the downfall, there was already a large element pushing the same 'culture' on campus." She held up a canvas bag. "But I'm told that you houseguests have prepared lunch. I plan to do it justice, and I have something to offer the family in return. This is a bunch of wild apples I gleaned in the countryside, suitable for pies and preserves once you check them for bugs." No one present was offended by the thought of being offered fruit that could have insects in it; living not far above the bare subsistence level was quick to cure exiles of dietary finickiness.
Terrance, as the closest thing to a male peer, was the next to address Montu: "Did you folks make sure you got all the bones out of the snake meat?"
Feeling that the older boy was someone he could joke with, Montu replied, "Of course; but I wish you had kept the snakes alive. I've been planning to start a snake-charming act."
Lunch was eaten without any snake bones in throats. Meretseger gave a sample of belly dancing, without any navels coming into view to scandalize the still-slightly-priggish Cecilia Havens. And, at Bert's request, Pastor Zondei summarized what he had preached about in church that morning: the story of the jaded aristocrat who had told the Apostle Paul, "You _almost_ persuade me to be a Christian."
"This is Ruby Vincent," Cecilia explained. "She's a Grange volunteer, who got acquainted with our church the last time she was in town, so now she's joined us again. Ruby, meet Bert, Ma'at, Meretseger and Montu."
Ruby shook hands with Ma'at. "I can't stay away from that trombone-clarinet combination. Pleased to meet you, and congratulations on what I hear you have coming up with Mr. Randall. This weekend I'm carrying letters from the western towns and farms, mainly letters going to persons _outside_ the Enclave, so they need to pass through the censor's office here in Casper."
"And I have to finish letters to Melody and Chilena before she leaves again!" interjected Harmony.
Still facing Ma'at, Ruby continued, "I meant to say, do you want to send out a letter to anyone? About your engagement?"
Ma'at looked uneasy. "Thanks, but I don't want to jinx it." She was unsure whether she wanted to admit that she knew no one outside the fence who cared if she had good news or not.
"As you think best. But I have a favor to ask of you. Cecilia tells me that your daughter's a talented dancer. I was once a theater major, before--things changed. Here, among coal miners, bear hunters and Amish farmers, I don't get to see much of any performing arts. Before I go, is there any chance I could get to see Merta-- Metra-- see your daughter dance? It wouldn't exactly have blended with 'How Great Thou Art,' but it would be wonderful to watch here."
"Dr. Havens, would that be all right?" Ma'at asked the head of the household.
"Sure, why not? None of us here are stuffy prigs. That is, if Meretseger herself is willing." All eyes went to the girl, who shyly but clearly nodded her agreement.
"Dancing comes _more_ naturally to my daughter than talking," remarked Ma'at to the newcomer.
"That's because back in Michigan, in the Cantonment, she was always being told to shut up," Montu explained. "Not by me or by Mom, you understand. By the thing that claimed to be the father of my sister and me."
"I understand," said Pastor Zondei. "There's a lot of that in Africa."
"I understand, too," Ruby told the boy. "At my old university, before the downfall, there was already a large element pushing the same 'culture' on campus." She held up a canvas bag. "But I'm told that you houseguests have prepared lunch. I plan to do it justice, and I have something to offer the family in return. This is a bunch of wild apples I gleaned in the countryside, suitable for pies and preserves once you check them for bugs." No one present was offended by the thought of being offered fruit that could have insects in it; living not far above the bare subsistence level was quick to cure exiles of dietary finickiness.
Terrance, as the closest thing to a male peer, was the next to address Montu: "Did you folks make sure you got all the bones out of the snake meat?"
Feeling that the older boy was someone he could joke with, Montu replied, "Of course; but I wish you had kept the snakes alive. I've been planning to start a snake-charming act."
Lunch was eaten without any snake bones in throats. Meretseger gave a sample of belly dancing, without any navels coming into view to scandalize the still-slightly-priggish Cecilia Havens. And, at Bert's request, Pastor Zondei summarized what he had preached about in church that morning: the story of the jaded aristocrat who had told the Apostle Paul, "You _almost_ persuade me to be a Christian."
Zella
New member
Very true. Good for Bert.
I feel bad for that man. I wonder what it was that kept him on the side of almost persuaded instead of persuaded.
Copperfox
Well-known member
~ ~ YOUNG PEOPLE, TAKE NOTE: These are _professional_ science-fiction characters. We do not recommend that you try this at home.
Before the gathering broke up, Abraham Zondei had one more word for Bert in particular. "You've heard plenty about the way of salvation; but I feel that the Holy Spirit is prompting me to tell you something of short-term practical benefit to you. The Commandment against false testimony says not to bear false witness _against_ our neighbor--that is, not to _injure_ our neighbor with an untrue statement. But this may not be forbidding us to say a falsehood that _protects_ our neighbor. Evildoers do not have a right to use our truthfulness to further their own evil ends. Esther, who was in captivity of a sort, played a trick on Haman, in order to _save_ her own people. Store this in your mind, and may God show you the application."
That night, when everyone else was asleep, Bert lay awake in the sleeping bag allocated to him in Eric's dental annex. He was thinking about Pastor Zondei's parting words, and about his own play-acting. It was not play-acting that he had come to reciprocate Ma'at's love for him, but it was play-acting when he made it seem that he was already physically consummated with her. This was falsehood to _protect_ others, in that it was intended to disarm the Overseers' most likely reasons for denying Ma'at and her children an exodus.
The thought of Overseers made Bert think in turn of the two male Overseers who had been watching when Alipang had fought Major Yang--the two Overseers who seemed to hold themselves aloof even from others in their own organization. Something about the thought of them caused Bert to get up silently, without awakening Eric who lay in another sleeping bag. Taking his loaned pistol with him, he crept back to the main house... went in the front door, which by Enclave practice was unlocked... sneaked into the room where Ma'at slept... hung the pistol in its shoulder holster on the inner doorknob... took off all his clothing except his shorts... and knelt beside the Egyptian-American woman he was hoping to marry.
"Ma'at, wake up, it's me; but be quiet."
She came awake, saw him there with the aid of a bit of moonlight through a window, and reached for him with both arms. She whispered back to him: "Bert, if this means you want me now, I'm yours to take."
"The taking comes later, after the wedding: a _mutual_ taking of each other. But the _pretending_ to have already taken you needs to be repeated right now. Is that a heavy nightgown you have on? If you have something thinner under it, please take the outer gown off, and let it lie in a heap with my clothes." Ma'at did as he asked, and then shifted to accommodate her beloved as he joined her under the covers.
"Now, snuggle up to me the way you think you're most likely to do on the first night we go to sleep together as a married couple....Ah, that feels good, crashing good. Stay just like that. And as far as anyone else is to think, you and I have been enjoying the honeymoon _before_ the ceremony. Eric and Cecilia will probably realize the truth, but even to them we won't explicitly _say_ that we didn't really consummate tonight. That's called giving them plausible deniability. So the story we stick to is that I sneaked in to join you much earlier than I really did, and _did_ more than I really am doing."
They were silent for a minute; then Ma'at murmured, "Can I at least kiss you?"
"One time, sweetheart. More than that, and I'm likely to start making the pretense a little _too_ realistic." So she kissed him once, and nestled more closely into his relaxed embrace.
"I love you so much," Ma'at whispered after another two minutes without sound. "There _must_ be a God, to have created a man so kind-hearted as you are."
The Australian laughed quietly. "And here I was thinking _you_ were the proof of His existence! When we're in Australia, we can--"
He was interrupted by a thumping noise. The front door, which he had passed in silence, had now been flung open with needless roughness. Two pairs of boots tramped into the living room, and an unfamiliar male voice shouted, "Overseers! Lock check!" More boot-steps, and then a different male voice called, "Is Bert Randall in the house?"
The room Bert and Ma'at were occupying was on the main floor. "I'm in here," said Bert, making himself sound drowsy. "Whatever it is, can't it wait until morning?"
The bedroom door opened, and flashlights drilled into Bert's eyes. Behind them were two vague human shapes, of height and size like the two men Bert had been recalling. The voice which had spoken first upon bursting into the house, now laughed and said, "I can see why you didn't want to talk to US just now!"
Bert heard Terrance Havens coming downstairs and asking, "Is anything out of order, officers?"--to which the one not busy laughing at Bert replied, "Nothing to be afraid of, Citizen Havens; we needed to see Citizen Randall." Other voices drifting down from the top of the stairs might have been Meretseger and Montu.
Ma'at gave a good performance of clinging to Bert in dread of some unknown threat. Squeezing her in reassurance, he said to the Overseer who had been speaking to him, "What's your business? Anything related to my request?"
"Might say. We're getting a candid, unrehearsed view of your habits. And the good news for you is that we like what we see. It looks like you're a man with normal appetites, Randall. I could wish I were in your place right now; I'm told this actress woman's really good at it. But then, there are female Overseers who are also more than satisfying."
The second Overseer, having apparently relieved Terrance's worries, turned his own attention back to the couple surprised in bed. "You pass a test, Randall: you might say, our own style of catechism. We're going to recommend that the Deputy Commander grant your request to remove your pet clowns from the Enclave." Bert was almost certain he heard gasps of excitement from the children at the top of the stairs.
"Well, thanks, gentlemen, this IS worth being rousted out of bed for. May I ask your names?"
"Sid Huddleston," replied the first man; the other added, "Ludovigo Vargas." Vargas went on to ask, "Were you planning to make any more of your interviewing visits before leaving the Enclave with the Wazirs?"
"Probably not; I have plenty of research material already."
"Good. Then you can pack up your things in the morning, and we'll see that you have the transportation you need."
Huddleston stepped forward and lifted the pistol and its harness off the doorknob. "You won't need this now; I'll return it to the armory for you."
"Well, that's what I call service, gentlemen, thank you." Something caused Bert to add: "And I'm sure that my government will also feel gratitude for your generous cooperation, as they track every stage of my departure by satellite." He could not imagine any reason why the Overseers would wish to murder him or any of his party on the way out; but he felt better having warned them that they could not easily get away with it. He instinctively disliked Vargas and Huddleston.
Eric Havens had awakened and come over from the other building, to be informed that no one was in trouble. Cecilia, Harmony, Meretseger and Montu swarmed downstairs to join Terrance and Eric as soon as the two Overseers took their leave. Ma'at's children hugged each other in hopeful suspense.
Eric peered into the small spare bedroom. "I guess you found a warmer place, Mr. Randall." Pointedly glancing back in the direction of the door the Overseers had exited by, he added, "I'll wager that if those officers were still here, taking part in this conversation, they would congratulate you on creeping over here so _early_ in the night, and staying unnoticed for so long."
Ma'at laughed nervously. "Well, *I* noticed him! I'm sorry, Dr. Havens, I'm sorry that we didn't exactly do things the way you and Mrs. Havens would."
"But I won't deny that I'm _pleased_ to have done _exactly_ what I did in this room tonight!" declared Bert. Hey, Meretseger, Montu: knock on wood, but it appears as if you kids and your mother have your tickets to Australia!"
Before the gathering broke up, Abraham Zondei had one more word for Bert in particular. "You've heard plenty about the way of salvation; but I feel that the Holy Spirit is prompting me to tell you something of short-term practical benefit to you. The Commandment against false testimony says not to bear false witness _against_ our neighbor--that is, not to _injure_ our neighbor with an untrue statement. But this may not be forbidding us to say a falsehood that _protects_ our neighbor. Evildoers do not have a right to use our truthfulness to further their own evil ends. Esther, who was in captivity of a sort, played a trick on Haman, in order to _save_ her own people. Store this in your mind, and may God show you the application."
That night, when everyone else was asleep, Bert lay awake in the sleeping bag allocated to him in Eric's dental annex. He was thinking about Pastor Zondei's parting words, and about his own play-acting. It was not play-acting that he had come to reciprocate Ma'at's love for him, but it was play-acting when he made it seem that he was already physically consummated with her. This was falsehood to _protect_ others, in that it was intended to disarm the Overseers' most likely reasons for denying Ma'at and her children an exodus.
The thought of Overseers made Bert think in turn of the two male Overseers who had been watching when Alipang had fought Major Yang--the two Overseers who seemed to hold themselves aloof even from others in their own organization. Something about the thought of them caused Bert to get up silently, without awakening Eric who lay in another sleeping bag. Taking his loaned pistol with him, he crept back to the main house... went in the front door, which by Enclave practice was unlocked... sneaked into the room where Ma'at slept... hung the pistol in its shoulder holster on the inner doorknob... took off all his clothing except his shorts... and knelt beside the Egyptian-American woman he was hoping to marry.
"Ma'at, wake up, it's me; but be quiet."
She came awake, saw him there with the aid of a bit of moonlight through a window, and reached for him with both arms. She whispered back to him: "Bert, if this means you want me now, I'm yours to take."
"The taking comes later, after the wedding: a _mutual_ taking of each other. But the _pretending_ to have already taken you needs to be repeated right now. Is that a heavy nightgown you have on? If you have something thinner under it, please take the outer gown off, and let it lie in a heap with my clothes." Ma'at did as he asked, and then shifted to accommodate her beloved as he joined her under the covers.
"Now, snuggle up to me the way you think you're most likely to do on the first night we go to sleep together as a married couple....Ah, that feels good, crashing good. Stay just like that. And as far as anyone else is to think, you and I have been enjoying the honeymoon _before_ the ceremony. Eric and Cecilia will probably realize the truth, but even to them we won't explicitly _say_ that we didn't really consummate tonight. That's called giving them plausible deniability. So the story we stick to is that I sneaked in to join you much earlier than I really did, and _did_ more than I really am doing."
They were silent for a minute; then Ma'at murmured, "Can I at least kiss you?"
"One time, sweetheart. More than that, and I'm likely to start making the pretense a little _too_ realistic." So she kissed him once, and nestled more closely into his relaxed embrace.
"I love you so much," Ma'at whispered after another two minutes without sound. "There _must_ be a God, to have created a man so kind-hearted as you are."
The Australian laughed quietly. "And here I was thinking _you_ were the proof of His existence! When we're in Australia, we can--"
He was interrupted by a thumping noise. The front door, which he had passed in silence, had now been flung open with needless roughness. Two pairs of boots tramped into the living room, and an unfamiliar male voice shouted, "Overseers! Lock check!" More boot-steps, and then a different male voice called, "Is Bert Randall in the house?"
The room Bert and Ma'at were occupying was on the main floor. "I'm in here," said Bert, making himself sound drowsy. "Whatever it is, can't it wait until morning?"
The bedroom door opened, and flashlights drilled into Bert's eyes. Behind them were two vague human shapes, of height and size like the two men Bert had been recalling. The voice which had spoken first upon bursting into the house, now laughed and said, "I can see why you didn't want to talk to US just now!"
Bert heard Terrance Havens coming downstairs and asking, "Is anything out of order, officers?"--to which the one not busy laughing at Bert replied, "Nothing to be afraid of, Citizen Havens; we needed to see Citizen Randall." Other voices drifting down from the top of the stairs might have been Meretseger and Montu.
Ma'at gave a good performance of clinging to Bert in dread of some unknown threat. Squeezing her in reassurance, he said to the Overseer who had been speaking to him, "What's your business? Anything related to my request?"
"Might say. We're getting a candid, unrehearsed view of your habits. And the good news for you is that we like what we see. It looks like you're a man with normal appetites, Randall. I could wish I were in your place right now; I'm told this actress woman's really good at it. But then, there are female Overseers who are also more than satisfying."
The second Overseer, having apparently relieved Terrance's worries, turned his own attention back to the couple surprised in bed. "You pass a test, Randall: you might say, our own style of catechism. We're going to recommend that the Deputy Commander grant your request to remove your pet clowns from the Enclave." Bert was almost certain he heard gasps of excitement from the children at the top of the stairs.
"Well, thanks, gentlemen, this IS worth being rousted out of bed for. May I ask your names?"
"Sid Huddleston," replied the first man; the other added, "Ludovigo Vargas." Vargas went on to ask, "Were you planning to make any more of your interviewing visits before leaving the Enclave with the Wazirs?"
"Probably not; I have plenty of research material already."
"Good. Then you can pack up your things in the morning, and we'll see that you have the transportation you need."
Huddleston stepped forward and lifted the pistol and its harness off the doorknob. "You won't need this now; I'll return it to the armory for you."
"Well, that's what I call service, gentlemen, thank you." Something caused Bert to add: "And I'm sure that my government will also feel gratitude for your generous cooperation, as they track every stage of my departure by satellite." He could not imagine any reason why the Overseers would wish to murder him or any of his party on the way out; but he felt better having warned them that they could not easily get away with it. He instinctively disliked Vargas and Huddleston.
Eric Havens had awakened and come over from the other building, to be informed that no one was in trouble. Cecilia, Harmony, Meretseger and Montu swarmed downstairs to join Terrance and Eric as soon as the two Overseers took their leave. Ma'at's children hugged each other in hopeful suspense.
Eric peered into the small spare bedroom. "I guess you found a warmer place, Mr. Randall." Pointedly glancing back in the direction of the door the Overseers had exited by, he added, "I'll wager that if those officers were still here, taking part in this conversation, they would congratulate you on creeping over here so _early_ in the night, and staying unnoticed for so long."
Ma'at laughed nervously. "Well, *I* noticed him! I'm sorry, Dr. Havens, I'm sorry that we didn't exactly do things the way you and Mrs. Havens would."
"But I won't deny that I'm _pleased_ to have done _exactly_ what I did in this room tonight!" declared Bert. Hey, Meretseger, Montu: knock on wood, but it appears as if you kids and your mother have your tickets to Australia!"
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Copperfox
Well-known member
Eric stooped to the floor, picked up the winter nightgown Cecilia had loaned to Ma'at, and handed it to her, so she would be able to slip it back on when she had more privacy. To Bert, he remarked, "Perhaps the desire that brought you to this room is now so satisfied that you wouldn't mind heading back to the other building with me."
Bert kissed Ma'at's cheek, then slid out of the bed in a fashion which did not expose to view any part of her body not already visible. Picking up his trousers and beginning to don them, he replied, "I'll go that one better. My desire of the time is so well fulfilled, that I'm going to stay up now. You heard the officers talk about flying us out today; I have work to do."
"Anything I can help you with?" asked Eric, beginning to gesture for the others to withdraw from the room and leave Ma'at in peace.
"As a matter of fact, mate, you're indispensible. From the time I heard about the Wyoming Observer, I've been wishing to give it an interview about myself; but Mr. De Soto was too busy almost dying, you were too busy helping to care for him, and of course I was busy doing the other end of the interviewing process with your exile homeschoolers. Even now, Mr. De Soto still is rehabbing, getting used to his new method of breathing; but if you're willing, as one of the editorial staff, you could interview me. Really, just make up a list of questions for me, then you can go back to sleep while I write my answers on paper by the light of my pocket flashlight."
Once the two men were back in the dental building, Eric did as Bert had suggested, coming up with a dozen questions. They were non-controversial, non-seditious; but they gave Bert plentiful opportunity to tell things about modern Australia and the Pacific Federation as a whole, so the answers at least would still be educational, reminding exiles of what the outside world was like. When Eric's part of the business was finished, Bert told him, "I can be a journalist outside here also--for a specialized subscribership. That is, if at all possible, I'll meet with your two daughters on the outside, and tell them about my times with your family in here. That should corroborate, and expand on, such news of you as they're able to get in your letters."
Eric warmly clasped Bert's arm upon hearing this. "You're very kind. And if you do get to meet even one of my daughters out there, she can pass your news to the other one; in fact, they'll also be able to contact relatives of my daughter-in-law Kim. So you'll have done a good turn to quite a few persons."
Eric slept again, and Bert wrote up his interview answers as promised. As soon as the first light of dawn showed itself, the Australian took a cautionary peek outside--since he no longer had a gun to shoot any dangerous beasts who might have strayed into town--then headed back to the house, where he packed his belongings.
The first other person to stir in the house was Montu, who had a question of his own for Bert. "You know that in the Cantonment, women and girls like my mother and sister are treated like slaves. But from what I've seen, the rest of the D.S.A., not counting the Enclave, seems to be the opposite--men and boys always being put down, like the boy you told us about called Daffy. Why do they do that?"
"Well, son, they don't do it at ALL times and places; but they do enough of it to prevent American men from being strong for goodness. Once a young man has become _theoretically_ conformed to feminist rules, they don't pay as much heed to how he actually treats women as you would expect."
"That doesn't make sense. If they don't care how a man treats women, why make such a big issue of it in education, going so far with it that they crush the spirit of a boy like that one in Boston?"
"Montu, my lad, not much _does_ make sense in the Diversity States. When the Chinese caused it to be set up, they were only concerned to have it be run by a government which wouldn't be TOO violent to its own people, and which would give no trouble to Beijing. But the demagogues--I'll explain that term to you later--the politicians who took over in Washington were the inheritors of the worst social insanities from recent decades in America. It makes me sad to think about it; but since you three are Americans by birth, I have the satisfaction of knowing that I'm salvaging another piece of America--which, indeed, Australia has been doing since the turnover."
Bert kissed Ma'at's cheek, then slid out of the bed in a fashion which did not expose to view any part of her body not already visible. Picking up his trousers and beginning to don them, he replied, "I'll go that one better. My desire of the time is so well fulfilled, that I'm going to stay up now. You heard the officers talk about flying us out today; I have work to do."
"Anything I can help you with?" asked Eric, beginning to gesture for the others to withdraw from the room and leave Ma'at in peace.
"As a matter of fact, mate, you're indispensible. From the time I heard about the Wyoming Observer, I've been wishing to give it an interview about myself; but Mr. De Soto was too busy almost dying, you were too busy helping to care for him, and of course I was busy doing the other end of the interviewing process with your exile homeschoolers. Even now, Mr. De Soto still is rehabbing, getting used to his new method of breathing; but if you're willing, as one of the editorial staff, you could interview me. Really, just make up a list of questions for me, then you can go back to sleep while I write my answers on paper by the light of my pocket flashlight."
Once the two men were back in the dental building, Eric did as Bert had suggested, coming up with a dozen questions. They were non-controversial, non-seditious; but they gave Bert plentiful opportunity to tell things about modern Australia and the Pacific Federation as a whole, so the answers at least would still be educational, reminding exiles of what the outside world was like. When Eric's part of the business was finished, Bert told him, "I can be a journalist outside here also--for a specialized subscribership. That is, if at all possible, I'll meet with your two daughters on the outside, and tell them about my times with your family in here. That should corroborate, and expand on, such news of you as they're able to get in your letters."
Eric warmly clasped Bert's arm upon hearing this. "You're very kind. And if you do get to meet even one of my daughters out there, she can pass your news to the other one; in fact, they'll also be able to contact relatives of my daughter-in-law Kim. So you'll have done a good turn to quite a few persons."
Eric slept again, and Bert wrote up his interview answers as promised. As soon as the first light of dawn showed itself, the Australian took a cautionary peek outside--since he no longer had a gun to shoot any dangerous beasts who might have strayed into town--then headed back to the house, where he packed his belongings.
The first other person to stir in the house was Montu, who had a question of his own for Bert. "You know that in the Cantonment, women and girls like my mother and sister are treated like slaves. But from what I've seen, the rest of the D.S.A., not counting the Enclave, seems to be the opposite--men and boys always being put down, like the boy you told us about called Daffy. Why do they do that?"
"Well, son, they don't do it at ALL times and places; but they do enough of it to prevent American men from being strong for goodness. Once a young man has become _theoretically_ conformed to feminist rules, they don't pay as much heed to how he actually treats women as you would expect."
"That doesn't make sense. If they don't care how a man treats women, why make such a big issue of it in education, going so far with it that they crush the spirit of a boy like that one in Boston?"
"Montu, my lad, not much _does_ make sense in the Diversity States. When the Chinese caused it to be set up, they were only concerned to have it be run by a government which wouldn't be TOO violent to its own people, and which would give no trouble to Beijing. But the demagogues--I'll explain that term to you later--the politicians who took over in Washington were the inheritors of the worst social insanities from recent decades in America. It makes me sad to think about it; but since you three are Americans by birth, I have the satisfaction of knowing that I'm salvaging another piece of America--which, indeed, Australia has been doing since the turnover."
Copperfox
Well-known member
Bert's goodbyes to the Eric Havens household were obliged to be hasty, as the Energy Department passenger helicopter came for him and the Wazirs when they had scarcely eaten breakfast. At least Tilly De Soto made it over to the dentist's house, to reiterate her thanks for Bert's help to her husband. She even gave him, as a souvenir, a copy of one of the earliest editions of the Wyoming Observer ; as a foreign dignitary, he should be able to carry it out of the Enclave unchallenged.
The man flying the helicopter was the same pilot who had been on duty the day Bert had met Odette Galloway. Seeing Ma'at, and being informed of the unprecedented situation of exiles being allowed to leave the reservation, he remarked to Bert, "I see you found a nicer woman than the one who was probing for you the last time I carried you!"
"Nicer by far," Bert affirmed. Then, as the four passengers took seats and fastened their safety belts, he explained to Ma'at what the pilot was talking about.
When he had finished, Ma'at told him, "I actually heard mention of that Galloway woman, one time in Rapid City. Someone or other was talking about her as a promising administrator."
Hearing Ma'at, the pilot laughed. "She has talent, but not as an administrator!" The rumors he then passed along about Odette's personal life were not surprising to Bert, but were unsuitable for children to be hearing. Bert, however, understood well that the Diversity States had no interest in protecting children from a premature introduction to low life; and he was not about to make any waves by objecting to the coarse talk--not when they were so close to escape for the Wazirs.
Changing the subject when he could, Bert asked if they might fly to Sussex for a goodbye there. A very brief detour was allowed, on which the pilot touched down close to the home of Sylvia Lathrop. Bert just had time to introduce his new family to Sylvia, who was happy for them; and to say hello-and-goodbye to such local friends who came over in reaction to seeing the helicopter descend. Esperanza and Brendan Havens came over with Lorraine Kramer on behalf of Alipang's household, Alipang and Kim both being occupied with a dental patient while Wilson and Ransom were off at farm work. Bert took dataphone pictures of them, as he had done with the Eric Havens household upon the parting there; now, if able to meet Chilena Salisbury and Melody Vasquez, or even contact them online, he would be able to show them new photos of most of their exiled family members. He had Ma'at and her children pose in one shot with the Havens children, just to let Ma'at have one image from within the Enclave, as a sort of personal history.
Then it was back into the helicopter, and no more stops until Rapid City. At the transfer from the helicopter to a fixed-wing airplane, the Energy and Agriculture Undersecretaries made an appearance to say goodbye to Bert, receiving his thanks. The Deputy Commander of the Campaign Against Hate was nowhere to be seen; Ma'at felt no sense of loss thereby.
Mercifully, no last-minute obstacles arose. Bert's party filed onto the four-engine propellor plane amid a crowd of civilian government employees. They said very little, hushed by a paranoid apprehension that the liberation might be cancelled even now, if any of them said anything the authorities didn't like. But although he dared not say it yet, Bert knew his plan. This flight would land in St. Louis, where there was a Consulate of the Pacific Federation; and unlike the Diversity States, the Pacific Federation employed chaplains at its diplomatic sites. There in St. Louis, before another evening passed, Ma'at Wazir would become Ma'at Randall; and procedures would begin for the immigration of Bert's new family to Australia.
Meretseger had hardly said a word all day; but when the airliner cleared the runway and grabbed altitude, she exclaimed "Crashers!"
Reaching to pat his new daughter's shoulder, Bert laughingly told her, "A good start on Australian slang, honey, but that particular word might make people nervous on a plane!"
The man flying the helicopter was the same pilot who had been on duty the day Bert had met Odette Galloway. Seeing Ma'at, and being informed of the unprecedented situation of exiles being allowed to leave the reservation, he remarked to Bert, "I see you found a nicer woman than the one who was probing for you the last time I carried you!"
"Nicer by far," Bert affirmed. Then, as the four passengers took seats and fastened their safety belts, he explained to Ma'at what the pilot was talking about.
When he had finished, Ma'at told him, "I actually heard mention of that Galloway woman, one time in Rapid City. Someone or other was talking about her as a promising administrator."
Hearing Ma'at, the pilot laughed. "She has talent, but not as an administrator!" The rumors he then passed along about Odette's personal life were not surprising to Bert, but were unsuitable for children to be hearing. Bert, however, understood well that the Diversity States had no interest in protecting children from a premature introduction to low life; and he was not about to make any waves by objecting to the coarse talk--not when they were so close to escape for the Wazirs.
Changing the subject when he could, Bert asked if they might fly to Sussex for a goodbye there. A very brief detour was allowed, on which the pilot touched down close to the home of Sylvia Lathrop. Bert just had time to introduce his new family to Sylvia, who was happy for them; and to say hello-and-goodbye to such local friends who came over in reaction to seeing the helicopter descend. Esperanza and Brendan Havens came over with Lorraine Kramer on behalf of Alipang's household, Alipang and Kim both being occupied with a dental patient while Wilson and Ransom were off at farm work. Bert took dataphone pictures of them, as he had done with the Eric Havens household upon the parting there; now, if able to meet Chilena Salisbury and Melody Vasquez, or even contact them online, he would be able to show them new photos of most of their exiled family members. He had Ma'at and her children pose in one shot with the Havens children, just to let Ma'at have one image from within the Enclave, as a sort of personal history.
Then it was back into the helicopter, and no more stops until Rapid City. At the transfer from the helicopter to a fixed-wing airplane, the Energy and Agriculture Undersecretaries made an appearance to say goodbye to Bert, receiving his thanks. The Deputy Commander of the Campaign Against Hate was nowhere to be seen; Ma'at felt no sense of loss thereby.
Mercifully, no last-minute obstacles arose. Bert's party filed onto the four-engine propellor plane amid a crowd of civilian government employees. They said very little, hushed by a paranoid apprehension that the liberation might be cancelled even now, if any of them said anything the authorities didn't like. But although he dared not say it yet, Bert knew his plan. This flight would land in St. Louis, where there was a Consulate of the Pacific Federation; and unlike the Diversity States, the Pacific Federation employed chaplains at its diplomatic sites. There in St. Louis, before another evening passed, Ma'at Wazir would become Ma'at Randall; and procedures would begin for the immigration of Bert's new family to Australia.
Meretseger had hardly said a word all day; but when the airliner cleared the runway and grabbed altitude, she exclaimed "Crashers!"
Reaching to pat his new daughter's shoulder, Bert laughingly told her, "A good start on Australian slang, honey, but that particular word might make people nervous on a plane!"
Zella
New member
Copperfox
Well-known member
Chapter 42: The Next One to Go In
In the same hospital courtyard where he had once enjoyed food and conversation with Bert Randall, Daffodil Ford stood looking idly up into the sky. The air was a bit nippy, but he had a hooded jacket on. He was looking at the sky because he was wondering when his mother would return to Earth from China's outer-space hotel--and whether she would bother to visit him when she did make planetfall.
A door opened behind him, and he heard a female voice, but not his mother's. It was one of the staff psychiatrists; and whatever she was saying must not be addressed to Daffodil, since his hearing of it was beginning in mid-sentence:
"--this human, because he understands tolerance and equality. If you want to roll on the ground with him standing there, just you go ahead, because he won't judge you." She was not talking TO Daffodil, but she seemed to be talking ABOUT him, to whoever was entering the courtyard with her. So Daffodil decided he'd better turn and look.
The person to whom the self-esteem therapist was talking was an Asiatic boy, perhaps twelve years old. When the doctor saw that Daffodil was now looking, she offered an introduction: "Daffodil Ford, this is Tim Govinda. Tim, this is Daffodil, the bioproduct of a Diversity States ambassador. That's how Daffodil has learned non-judgmental diplomacy. Tim, why don't you tell Daffy what you're doing here?"
"I'm here because I'm a horse," Tim Govinda stated matter-of-factly, then added a vocal effect: "HWEEEE-ha-ha-ha-ha-huh!!"
Daffodil did indeed have training and experience at taking many eccentricities in stride. "Um, yes, a horse is a fine thing to be. How long have you been a horse?"
Tim's face abruptly took on a sharply critical expression. "Even asking that question shows your primitive linear thinking! I am _timelessly_ a horse, as I am _timelessly_ a gibbon. In fact, I shall now emphasize the gibbon;" and he began jumping around in what seemed to be his idea of how a small ape would behave.
Thinking about current fads in philosophy, Daffodil now asked the younger boy, "Is this a reincarnational phenomenon?"
"Well, of course! I'm glad you grok that much, anyway."
The psychiatrist helped out: "Citizen Govinda has had an epiphany: he has realized that, with the fluidity of time, his incarnations can be concurrent rather than serially consecutive."
"That's right. In a few minutes, I'll let you see me being the maternal grandfather of Mahatma Gandhi; then I'll go back to animal identities. Daffodil, would you rather see me be an ostrich after being Gandhi's grandfather, or a salt-water crocodile?"
"The ostrich. We don't want to stray too far from the vegetarian ideal."
So Tim, once finished being a gibbon, played the one human personage, then the ostrich, then a muskrat, and then a horseshoe crab. This was enough imaginary shape-changing for him before he wanted to go back indoors out of the cold; and he asked Daffodil to come with him to a sitting area. Assuming that the psychiatrist would prefer him to do as asked, he left the courtyard with Tim.
In the same hospital courtyard where he had once enjoyed food and conversation with Bert Randall, Daffodil Ford stood looking idly up into the sky. The air was a bit nippy, but he had a hooded jacket on. He was looking at the sky because he was wondering when his mother would return to Earth from China's outer-space hotel--and whether she would bother to visit him when she did make planetfall.
A door opened behind him, and he heard a female voice, but not his mother's. It was one of the staff psychiatrists; and whatever she was saying must not be addressed to Daffodil, since his hearing of it was beginning in mid-sentence:
"--this human, because he understands tolerance and equality. If you want to roll on the ground with him standing there, just you go ahead, because he won't judge you." She was not talking TO Daffodil, but she seemed to be talking ABOUT him, to whoever was entering the courtyard with her. So Daffodil decided he'd better turn and look.
The person to whom the self-esteem therapist was talking was an Asiatic boy, perhaps twelve years old. When the doctor saw that Daffodil was now looking, she offered an introduction: "Daffodil Ford, this is Tim Govinda. Tim, this is Daffodil, the bioproduct of a Diversity States ambassador. That's how Daffodil has learned non-judgmental diplomacy. Tim, why don't you tell Daffy what you're doing here?"
"I'm here because I'm a horse," Tim Govinda stated matter-of-factly, then added a vocal effect: "HWEEEE-ha-ha-ha-ha-huh!!"
Daffodil did indeed have training and experience at taking many eccentricities in stride. "Um, yes, a horse is a fine thing to be. How long have you been a horse?"
Tim's face abruptly took on a sharply critical expression. "Even asking that question shows your primitive linear thinking! I am _timelessly_ a horse, as I am _timelessly_ a gibbon. In fact, I shall now emphasize the gibbon;" and he began jumping around in what seemed to be his idea of how a small ape would behave.
Thinking about current fads in philosophy, Daffodil now asked the younger boy, "Is this a reincarnational phenomenon?"
"Well, of course! I'm glad you grok that much, anyway."
The psychiatrist helped out: "Citizen Govinda has had an epiphany: he has realized that, with the fluidity of time, his incarnations can be concurrent rather than serially consecutive."
"That's right. In a few minutes, I'll let you see me being the maternal grandfather of Mahatma Gandhi; then I'll go back to animal identities. Daffodil, would you rather see me be an ostrich after being Gandhi's grandfather, or a salt-water crocodile?"
"The ostrich. We don't want to stray too far from the vegetarian ideal."
So Tim, once finished being a gibbon, played the one human personage, then the ostrich, then a muskrat, and then a horseshoe crab. This was enough imaginary shape-changing for him before he wanted to go back indoors out of the cold; and he asked Daffodil to come with him to a sitting area. Assuming that the psychiatrist would prefer him to do as asked, he left the courtyard with Tim.
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Copperfox
Well-known member
This scene, of course, is not finished. Consider two things, Glenburne:
1) When a society and/or its rulers decide that they don't like truth, and that they prefer whatever indulges their emotions and their self-interest, there's no safety net to halt their fall into nonsense. Lewis portrayed this in "That Hideous Strength." And Chesterton had Father Brown say (approximate quote): "It is possible for a man to remain on a certain level of goodness; but no one can stay on one level of evil. That road goes down and down."
2) After the death of Stalin, the subsequent leaders of the Soviet Union came to realize that they didn't HAVE TO torture and murder dissenters; they could "merely" label the dissenters as mentally ill, and set out to "cure" them (again, a phenomenon which Lewis wrote about). If we objectively compare the mental conditions of the characters Daffy Ford and Tim Govinda, it's as obvious as the sunrise that Daffy is by far the more sane of the two. But if a governmental healthcare establishment is under strict orders to define mental health as whatever is to the advantage of the rulers, then THEIR criterion here will be: "Which of these two boys is more likely to have thoughts of rebelling against our system?"
1) When a society and/or its rulers decide that they don't like truth, and that they prefer whatever indulges their emotions and their self-interest, there's no safety net to halt their fall into nonsense. Lewis portrayed this in "That Hideous Strength." And Chesterton had Father Brown say (approximate quote): "It is possible for a man to remain on a certain level of goodness; but no one can stay on one level of evil. That road goes down and down."
2) After the death of Stalin, the subsequent leaders of the Soviet Union came to realize that they didn't HAVE TO torture and murder dissenters; they could "merely" label the dissenters as mentally ill, and set out to "cure" them (again, a phenomenon which Lewis wrote about). If we objectively compare the mental conditions of the characters Daffy Ford and Tim Govinda, it's as obvious as the sunrise that Daffy is by far the more sane of the two. But if a governmental healthcare establishment is under strict orders to define mental health as whatever is to the advantage of the rulers, then THEIR criterion here will be: "Which of these two boys is more likely to have thoughts of rebelling against our system?"
Copperfox
Well-known member
"I was at Whoopi Goldberg Middle School in Bridgeport," the animal-boy told Daffodil. "At one of the weekly visiting lectures presented by the Campaign Against Hate, the Pinkshirt speaker talked about the ways that religious dictatorship always confined freedom of thought by telling everyone that a god _created_ things in the way he chose, and that WE couldn't pick our own identity. That was when I first attained the realization that I could break free from species bigotry. So, when the Pinkshirt invited student comments, I told him that from now on I would refuse to be trapped in the human category."
Managing not to roll his eyes with the psychiatrist still nearby, Daffodil asked, "So, did the Pinkshirt give you affirmation for this?"
Tim replied by barking like a dog. The psychiatrist leaned in to tell the older boy, "That bark means yes. Both the lecturer, and the faculty at that school, applauded Citizen Govinda for his self-actualization, and warned the other students that contradicting him could be construed as hate speech. This was enforced; three students who denied his epiphany are in Tolerance Houses right now."
Daffodil glanced at Tim again. "Then if his leap of enlightenment was acknowledged as valid, what is he doing in this hospital?"
In apparent indulgence of Tim's enlightenment, the woman said no words to Daffodil, but meowed like a cat. Then Tim reverted to intelligible speech: "I'm only visiting. I was told about you, Citizen Ford, that before you began having difficulties, you were AT a Tolerance House, but not as an inmate needing correction; you were helping _other_ young citizens to become harmonious in the collective. So it is with me: I'm helping others to free themselves from prehistoric religious definitions of personhood."
"All right.... Let me guess, do you play Anarchathlon?"
"Yes, I do. And I was commended by my school for going off the field to get spectators involved in the randomness."
"And what are your future plans?"
"I might relocate to the Northwest District, and join the All-Species Council. It would be more efficient with me there; I could cast votes in fourteen different identities, and hurry up the deliberations. Or I could become a motivational speaker in the Oneness Temples."
"You'll probably do both," Daffodil predicted.
Not long after Tim and the psychiatrist left him, Daffodil had a conversation with a male orderly. "Are you familiar with Tim Govinda's case?"
"Oh, yes, he's no secret, he's in the streamcasts. The Campaign sees him as a valuable asset in the fight against intolerant paradigms of reality. When he's done meeting patients here, he's flying to a hospital in Syracuse."
"So he can pretty much do as he wants?"
"Of course; it's good for the collective."
Daffodil drew himself up. "And would it be good for the collective if I were allowed to ask Thundercrash Bellingham to go to a stun-jazz concert with me?"
"I'm sorry, Daffy, but that would not be judged favorably at this time. It could cause a setback in your excessive-individualism problem."
"Wait a minute. That Govinda boy is allowed _individually_ to decide that he can be multiple incarnations of himself at the same time--but I can't have a social life?"
"We must respect the wisdom of those who embody the collective, even if our limited minds perceive this wisdom as self-contradictory. The collective is all." Having said this, the orderly suddenly found himself having to perform protective restraint on Daffodil, as all in an instant the boy began having another fit of convulsions. And the orderly honestly did not understand what had set it off. But he felt sure of what to do as soon as the fit subsided: he made the patient drink some Joy Nectar.
Managing not to roll his eyes with the psychiatrist still nearby, Daffodil asked, "So, did the Pinkshirt give you affirmation for this?"
Tim replied by barking like a dog. The psychiatrist leaned in to tell the older boy, "That bark means yes. Both the lecturer, and the faculty at that school, applauded Citizen Govinda for his self-actualization, and warned the other students that contradicting him could be construed as hate speech. This was enforced; three students who denied his epiphany are in Tolerance Houses right now."
Daffodil glanced at Tim again. "Then if his leap of enlightenment was acknowledged as valid, what is he doing in this hospital?"
In apparent indulgence of Tim's enlightenment, the woman said no words to Daffodil, but meowed like a cat. Then Tim reverted to intelligible speech: "I'm only visiting. I was told about you, Citizen Ford, that before you began having difficulties, you were AT a Tolerance House, but not as an inmate needing correction; you were helping _other_ young citizens to become harmonious in the collective. So it is with me: I'm helping others to free themselves from prehistoric religious definitions of personhood."
"All right.... Let me guess, do you play Anarchathlon?"
"Yes, I do. And I was commended by my school for going off the field to get spectators involved in the randomness."
"And what are your future plans?"
"I might relocate to the Northwest District, and join the All-Species Council. It would be more efficient with me there; I could cast votes in fourteen different identities, and hurry up the deliberations. Or I could become a motivational speaker in the Oneness Temples."
"You'll probably do both," Daffodil predicted.
Not long after Tim and the psychiatrist left him, Daffodil had a conversation with a male orderly. "Are you familiar with Tim Govinda's case?"
"Oh, yes, he's no secret, he's in the streamcasts. The Campaign sees him as a valuable asset in the fight against intolerant paradigms of reality. When he's done meeting patients here, he's flying to a hospital in Syracuse."
"So he can pretty much do as he wants?"
"Of course; it's good for the collective."
Daffodil drew himself up. "And would it be good for the collective if I were allowed to ask Thundercrash Bellingham to go to a stun-jazz concert with me?"
"I'm sorry, Daffy, but that would not be judged favorably at this time. It could cause a setback in your excessive-individualism problem."
"Wait a minute. That Govinda boy is allowed _individually_ to decide that he can be multiple incarnations of himself at the same time--but I can't have a social life?"
"We must respect the wisdom of those who embody the collective, even if our limited minds perceive this wisdom as self-contradictory. The collective is all." Having said this, the orderly suddenly found himself having to perform protective restraint on Daffodil, as all in an instant the boy began having another fit of convulsions. And the orderly honestly did not understand what had set it off. But he felt sure of what to do as soon as the fit subsided: he made the patient drink some Joy Nectar.
Zella
New member
Sigh. Poor Daffy. At least he can see the problem with that.
Copperfox
Well-known member
By the way, in case anyone wonders, my using the first name of Tim for the whack-job kid who wants to be an animal has NO connection with any real-world animal lovers who have the first name of Tim. It was just that I try to avoid any two characters in a story having the same first name, so as to avoid confusing my readers--unless a character is named FOR someone else, the way Alipang's two sons are named in honor of his military friends, and his daughter in honor of his deceased birth sister--and the name Tim was available and unused at the time I made up the Govinda character.
Pitchike12
Member
Copperfox
Well-known member
Daffodil was recovered by next morning: in time for a visitor to be admitted. The armed female Pinkshirt standing guard in case of Aztlano-originated threats to the boy had been chosen for being acquainted with Samantha Ford, and so was acquainted with the successive aides the Ambassador-At-Large had had in her service. She recognized Nalani Hahona and Cassandra Jefferson when they came asking after Daffodil. Strictly speaking, only Cassandra asked after Daffodil, while Nalani acted studiously bored. It was only Cassandra who entered the boy's room.
"Daffy, are you going to be okay? What happened to you?" There was at least a bit of honest concern in the African-American woman's voice.
"Hello, Cassandra. I'm still trying to figure that out myself. I know this much: that I'm officially in _worse_ mental condition than a boy who believes he can change into a horse at will. But tell me, where's Mother?" Daffodil had not forgotten that Cassandra, unlike previous companions of his mother, had not pressed him to say "Caregiver."
Cassandra looked a trifle embarrassed. "Didn't she tell you?"
"Tell me what?"
"That I don't work for her anymore. The Secretary of State has appointed me to a new job, as our Vice-Consul in Honolulu. I just came from some preparatory briefings on conditions in the Pacific Federation. I'll be out there by tomorrow."
"I see. Too bad; I was starting to like you, relative to the little I saw or heard of you. But no, Mother told me nothing. So who's the Consul you'll be assisting?"
"Nalani Hahona."
"Wow! You go from being her successor, to being-- but that means that Carlota Ruiz also had a change of staff. Was this change _entirely_ due to the State Department finding you and Nalani suited for a new job, or did something go sour between you and Mother, or between Nalani and Carlota, or both?"
"Secretary Atkinson, as far as she told us, had the consulate idea independently; but it so happened that Nalani and I hit it off amazingly at the Orbital Palace." Daffodil fell so silent at this, that Cassandra finally felt obliged to say something more herself: "You know that diplomatic work is all about personalities, especially when it's for a country as powerless as we are; so it comes naturally for diplomatic officials to judge by personal compatibility when it comes to whom we work with."
The boy still appeared sunk in thought, so Cassandra said one more thing: "Your mother really never called you? No messages either?"
"No contact at all. And no one has visited me lately except the boy who thought he could shape-change. Which suggests a favor you could do for me..."
Nalani's voice interrupted them from somewhere just out of line of sight by the door: "Darling, will you please make this short? We have to be early for that luncheon with those people from New Zealand."
"Wait a minute!" Cassandra replied. "Quick, Daffy, what is it?"
"Since you're going to have dealings with the Pacific Federation, you should be able to get the ear of Bert Randall. I'm not sure where he is, but I really would like to talk to him again. He was going to tell me how his--"
"Cas-SAN-dra, come ON!"
"Nalani, I said to WAIT."
"Please, Cassandra, just reach Bert if you can, and ask him to call me."
The woman impulsively stroked the boy's blond hair. "I will. It shouldn't be hard to trace him. I hope you get better, kid;" and she turned away and hurried out of the room. Nalani became visible joining her; and Daffodil saw the Hawaiian woman shoot at him a glance charged with all the dislike she had not dared reveal while working for Daffodil's mother.
When the two women were gone, Daffodil growled quietly, "Well, good riddance to YOU too, Nalani."
"Daffy, are you going to be okay? What happened to you?" There was at least a bit of honest concern in the African-American woman's voice.
"Hello, Cassandra. I'm still trying to figure that out myself. I know this much: that I'm officially in _worse_ mental condition than a boy who believes he can change into a horse at will. But tell me, where's Mother?" Daffodil had not forgotten that Cassandra, unlike previous companions of his mother, had not pressed him to say "Caregiver."
Cassandra looked a trifle embarrassed. "Didn't she tell you?"
"Tell me what?"
"That I don't work for her anymore. The Secretary of State has appointed me to a new job, as our Vice-Consul in Honolulu. I just came from some preparatory briefings on conditions in the Pacific Federation. I'll be out there by tomorrow."
"I see. Too bad; I was starting to like you, relative to the little I saw or heard of you. But no, Mother told me nothing. So who's the Consul you'll be assisting?"
"Nalani Hahona."
"Wow! You go from being her successor, to being-- but that means that Carlota Ruiz also had a change of staff. Was this change _entirely_ due to the State Department finding you and Nalani suited for a new job, or did something go sour between you and Mother, or between Nalani and Carlota, or both?"
"Secretary Atkinson, as far as she told us, had the consulate idea independently; but it so happened that Nalani and I hit it off amazingly at the Orbital Palace." Daffodil fell so silent at this, that Cassandra finally felt obliged to say something more herself: "You know that diplomatic work is all about personalities, especially when it's for a country as powerless as we are; so it comes naturally for diplomatic officials to judge by personal compatibility when it comes to whom we work with."
The boy still appeared sunk in thought, so Cassandra said one more thing: "Your mother really never called you? No messages either?"
"No contact at all. And no one has visited me lately except the boy who thought he could shape-change. Which suggests a favor you could do for me..."
Nalani's voice interrupted them from somewhere just out of line of sight by the door: "Darling, will you please make this short? We have to be early for that luncheon with those people from New Zealand."
"Wait a minute!" Cassandra replied. "Quick, Daffy, what is it?"
"Since you're going to have dealings with the Pacific Federation, you should be able to get the ear of Bert Randall. I'm not sure where he is, but I really would like to talk to him again. He was going to tell me how his--"
"Cas-SAN-dra, come ON!"
"Nalani, I said to WAIT."
"Please, Cassandra, just reach Bert if you can, and ask him to call me."
The woman impulsively stroked the boy's blond hair. "I will. It shouldn't be hard to trace him. I hope you get better, kid;" and she turned away and hurried out of the room. Nalani became visible joining her; and Daffodil saw the Hawaiian woman shoot at him a glance charged with all the dislike she had not dared reveal while working for Daffodil's mother.
When the two women were gone, Daffodil growled quietly, "Well, good riddance to YOU too, Nalani."
Copperfox
Well-known member
In the process of exiting Daffodil's life even more abruptly than she had entered it, Cassandra Jefferson scored one final boost in the boy's opinion of her. Not four hours after Nalani had hustled Cassandra out of the hospital, a call did come from the adventurous Australian researcher.
"Daffy! G'day! It's Bert! Word of honor, I was going to call you soon anyway; but Cassandra hurried me up. She says that you haven't been getting any visitors? That's a flipping shame. I hope you're holding out."
"Your call sure helps. How long have you been out of the Enclave?"
"Two and a half days. And I have an excuse for not calling you sooner."
"Let me guess: you changed jobs too. People seem to be doing that a lot this month."
"No, my work's the same; but you might say I've taken on some help. I fell in love with an exile woman in Wyoming, and they let me bring her out with me, her and her kids."
"They let people OUT of the Enclave? Were you told whether this means a policy change?"
"According to the triumvirate in Rapid City, it was a very big exception being made for me, because I'm a dignitary, and because the three persons leaving the Enclave with me were also to leave _America_ with me, so not spreading any dreadful hate speech around the D.S.A. Right now, all of us are in our consulate in St. Louis. Ma'at and the kids are getting some orientation for Australia, and being examined medically."
"Bert, um, it's great that you found someone to love. But how did it happen?"
"She was an actress: the first full-time actress in the Enclave. Yang and I got to see her perform. Swept me off my feet. Her daughter and son are likeable too. Now they'll have the chance for larger audiences."
Daffodil sensed that Bert was holding back plenty about this exile woman, but he didn't pry. Instead, he asked: "Did you meet the Asian dentist?"
"Sure did, mate. With his whole family. He's what they used to call a man of parts; besides a dentist, he's a horseman, an archer, a paramedic, a fan of old poetry, and a crashing great kickboxer. He and Yang had a go, all sporting and gentlemanly; it was better than a movie! And his children, homeschooled by their mother, are all really sharp..." The Australian told other things about Alipang Havens, and about the exile town of Sussex, and about the Enclave generally, but avoided anything sensitive. One thing he did recount was his brief stint as a shepherd, assisting Yitzhak and Huldah Rosenbaum. "I could have picked up a lady-love _there,_ but the one I have now is more suited to me."
"Bert, in these circumstances, I'll understand if you can't, but is there any chance you could visit me in person once more?"
"I have to see to Ma'at's well-being first of all, along with her kids; but if it fits with that priority, I'll be more than glad to visit you." Hearing this, Daffodil again had the feeling that some things were going untold. Bert continued, "But meanwhile, if a holographic set can be made available to you, I could make a 3-D call, and let you see what my new family looks like. Let them see you too, since I've also talked about you to them."
"I'll request it." The boy felt good about hearing that his adult friend had thought to mention him to a woman he fell in love with. It further eased the ache from the way the psychiatrist and the orderly had spoken to him yesterday.
"Daffy! G'day! It's Bert! Word of honor, I was going to call you soon anyway; but Cassandra hurried me up. She says that you haven't been getting any visitors? That's a flipping shame. I hope you're holding out."
"Your call sure helps. How long have you been out of the Enclave?"
"Two and a half days. And I have an excuse for not calling you sooner."
"Let me guess: you changed jobs too. People seem to be doing that a lot this month."
"No, my work's the same; but you might say I've taken on some help. I fell in love with an exile woman in Wyoming, and they let me bring her out with me, her and her kids."
"They let people OUT of the Enclave? Were you told whether this means a policy change?"
"According to the triumvirate in Rapid City, it was a very big exception being made for me, because I'm a dignitary, and because the three persons leaving the Enclave with me were also to leave _America_ with me, so not spreading any dreadful hate speech around the D.S.A. Right now, all of us are in our consulate in St. Louis. Ma'at and the kids are getting some orientation for Australia, and being examined medically."
"Bert, um, it's great that you found someone to love. But how did it happen?"
"She was an actress: the first full-time actress in the Enclave. Yang and I got to see her perform. Swept me off my feet. Her daughter and son are likeable too. Now they'll have the chance for larger audiences."
Daffodil sensed that Bert was holding back plenty about this exile woman, but he didn't pry. Instead, he asked: "Did you meet the Asian dentist?"
"Sure did, mate. With his whole family. He's what they used to call a man of parts; besides a dentist, he's a horseman, an archer, a paramedic, a fan of old poetry, and a crashing great kickboxer. He and Yang had a go, all sporting and gentlemanly; it was better than a movie! And his children, homeschooled by their mother, are all really sharp..." The Australian told other things about Alipang Havens, and about the exile town of Sussex, and about the Enclave generally, but avoided anything sensitive. One thing he did recount was his brief stint as a shepherd, assisting Yitzhak and Huldah Rosenbaum. "I could have picked up a lady-love _there,_ but the one I have now is more suited to me."
"Bert, in these circumstances, I'll understand if you can't, but is there any chance you could visit me in person once more?"
"I have to see to Ma'at's well-being first of all, along with her kids; but if it fits with that priority, I'll be more than glad to visit you." Hearing this, Daffodil again had the feeling that some things were going untold. Bert continued, "But meanwhile, if a holographic set can be made available to you, I could make a 3-D call, and let you see what my new family looks like. Let them see you too, since I've also talked about you to them."
"I'll request it." The boy felt good about hearing that his adult friend had thought to mention him to a woman he fell in love with. It further eased the ache from the way the psychiatrist and the orderly had spoken to him yesterday.