The First Love Of Alipang Havens
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Copperfox
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"Ah, you finished your breakfast drink, excellent."
This time, Henry did have electrodes on his head.
But the female Pinkshirts applying them still had not needed to shave off any of the Apache warrior's long hair. N.B.I.C. technology had brought brainwave sensing far enough along, that now it was enough for them to place electrodes on his forehead and in his ears.
Intimidating though some technology had become these days, Henry still was confident that his captors could not literally _read_ his mind and see every specific thought. If they had that power, they would surely have confronted him by now about his past efforts to arrange for chemical analysis of the vapor that Overseer planes periodically sprayed into the air above the Western Enclave. So he was operating on the assumption that what was being done to him was "merely" at the level of mixing lie-detecting brain scans with a plan to make him believe _their_ lies. And he prayerfully counted on their complacence in their technological powers to make them careless--to prevent them from seeing through his evasions.
"It was real progress yesterday," said the second Pinkshirt woman, "when you agreed that it was a horrible thing to be jealous of another man just for winning the attentions of a woman you wanted." Henry had indeed said that it _would_ be wrong for him to be thus jealous; but he had never made a false admission of actually having _been_ jealous of Overseer Langford. And whatever they were monitoring in his brainwaves, they did not seem to have grasped what he was doing.
Now the first woman told him, "This possessiveness, this demand for exclusive commitment, is one of the most un-mutual, anti-collective delusions you Christians cling to. It's the same as human trafficking. If you can evolve beyond it, we have hope for others like you."
"As for that," replied Henry, trying to sound like a man in the midst of a long and profound learning process, "I was thinking about my ancestors. Even though of course we were not the same as the white colonialists, it IS true that my ancestors kidnapped women as captive wives; never gave _them_ any choice about it."
The second woman, the younger of the two (though both were fairly young-looking and attractive), startled Henry by leaning over him and kissing him on the lips. "Excellent insight, citizen! Every enlightened member of the collective knows that marriage by nature IS captivity; it confines the potential for self-realization."
Henry managed a smile, though he would rather have been kissed by Sylvia Lathrop, or for that matter licked by Gabe Ellison's Irish setter, than be kissed by any Pinkshirt. "Yes, they do say that if you don't realize yourself, no one else will realize you."
He had been keeping this up for an uncertain amount of time--groggy from whatever they were feeding him (drugs still being cheaper to use than N.B.I.C. gear), but still aware of truth. He had NOT in any way caused the grizzly attack, and he had NOT wished for Odette Galloway to make love to him rather than to Kurt Langford. The interrogators apparently wanted to bring him to a point at which he would genuinely _believe_ that those false charges were the truth, no doubt in order to display him at some kind of show trial. If at any time he explicitly said he was guilty of the charges, and his brainwaves confirmed that he believed himself to be stating facts, they would know that they had in effect hypnotized him as desired. But since in reality Henry knew himself to be _innocent_ of the false charges, he had to try to create an _illusion_ in his captors' minds that he was going along with the brainwashing. For if they understood how completely he had retained his own mind inside, they would resort to more forceful measures.
Was it the Australian...? _Someone_ had mentioned "clubbing your personality to death chemically."
So, like dodging between the trees to evade the wounded grizzly's claws, Henry was dodging between tangents and half-answers. Anything to forestall being pinned down on a yes-or-no, did he admit to being guilty. It was his one hope that before they pinned him, someone in authority who _wasn't_ part of this frameup would want to see him. Then he could spring the truth on _that_ person.
Tuck Faraday came in and asked the Pinkshirts, "Is he sounding cooperative?"
The elder of the two women replied, "Almost a Winston Smith now."
"Good, because it may not be long now before other people start insisting on being told what really went on along that trail;" and Overseer Faraday stepped back out.
Hope leaped in Henry's heart; he tried to suppress it by thinking about his newfound loathing for Faraday. That man had _seemed_ reasonable and humane toward the exiles; but here he was, taking a hand in the attempt to force a gross falsehood into the head of a man who had done him no wrong. Among the Overseers, there were not really any good cops; only, at most, cops who had not YET been told to do something monstrously wicked.
What Henry was feeling toward Faraday was, he realized, much more Apache than Christian. Well, Faraday would live on in ignorance of how fortunate he was that Henry did not have the use of his legs; Henry would have to be content with exposing the lie that was keeping him in this room, if only God would grant him the opportunity.
This time, Henry did have electrodes on his head.
But the female Pinkshirts applying them still had not needed to shave off any of the Apache warrior's long hair. N.B.I.C. technology had brought brainwave sensing far enough along, that now it was enough for them to place electrodes on his forehead and in his ears.
Intimidating though some technology had become these days, Henry still was confident that his captors could not literally _read_ his mind and see every specific thought. If they had that power, they would surely have confronted him by now about his past efforts to arrange for chemical analysis of the vapor that Overseer planes periodically sprayed into the air above the Western Enclave. So he was operating on the assumption that what was being done to him was "merely" at the level of mixing lie-detecting brain scans with a plan to make him believe _their_ lies. And he prayerfully counted on their complacence in their technological powers to make them careless--to prevent them from seeing through his evasions.
"It was real progress yesterday," said the second Pinkshirt woman, "when you agreed that it was a horrible thing to be jealous of another man just for winning the attentions of a woman you wanted." Henry had indeed said that it _would_ be wrong for him to be thus jealous; but he had never made a false admission of actually having _been_ jealous of Overseer Langford. And whatever they were monitoring in his brainwaves, they did not seem to have grasped what he was doing.
Now the first woman told him, "This possessiveness, this demand for exclusive commitment, is one of the most un-mutual, anti-collective delusions you Christians cling to. It's the same as human trafficking. If you can evolve beyond it, we have hope for others like you."
"As for that," replied Henry, trying to sound like a man in the midst of a long and profound learning process, "I was thinking about my ancestors. Even though of course we were not the same as the white colonialists, it IS true that my ancestors kidnapped women as captive wives; never gave _them_ any choice about it."
The second woman, the younger of the two (though both were fairly young-looking and attractive), startled Henry by leaning over him and kissing him on the lips. "Excellent insight, citizen! Every enlightened member of the collective knows that marriage by nature IS captivity; it confines the potential for self-realization."
Henry managed a smile, though he would rather have been kissed by Sylvia Lathrop, or for that matter licked by Gabe Ellison's Irish setter, than be kissed by any Pinkshirt. "Yes, they do say that if you don't realize yourself, no one else will realize you."
He had been keeping this up for an uncertain amount of time--groggy from whatever they were feeding him (drugs still being cheaper to use than N.B.I.C. gear), but still aware of truth. He had NOT in any way caused the grizzly attack, and he had NOT wished for Odette Galloway to make love to him rather than to Kurt Langford. The interrogators apparently wanted to bring him to a point at which he would genuinely _believe_ that those false charges were the truth, no doubt in order to display him at some kind of show trial. If at any time he explicitly said he was guilty of the charges, and his brainwaves confirmed that he believed himself to be stating facts, they would know that they had in effect hypnotized him as desired. But since in reality Henry knew himself to be _innocent_ of the false charges, he had to try to create an _illusion_ in his captors' minds that he was going along with the brainwashing. For if they understood how completely he had retained his own mind inside, they would resort to more forceful measures.
Was it the Australian...? _Someone_ had mentioned "clubbing your personality to death chemically."
So, like dodging between the trees to evade the wounded grizzly's claws, Henry was dodging between tangents and half-answers. Anything to forestall being pinned down on a yes-or-no, did he admit to being guilty. It was his one hope that before they pinned him, someone in authority who _wasn't_ part of this frameup would want to see him. Then he could spring the truth on _that_ person.
Tuck Faraday came in and asked the Pinkshirts, "Is he sounding cooperative?"
The elder of the two women replied, "Almost a Winston Smith now."
"Good, because it may not be long now before other people start insisting on being told what really went on along that trail;" and Overseer Faraday stepped back out.
Hope leaped in Henry's heart; he tried to suppress it by thinking about his newfound loathing for Faraday. That man had _seemed_ reasonable and humane toward the exiles; but here he was, taking a hand in the attempt to force a gross falsehood into the head of a man who had done him no wrong. Among the Overseers, there were not really any good cops; only, at most, cops who had not YET been told to do something monstrously wicked.
What Henry was feeling toward Faraday was, he realized, much more Apache than Christian. Well, Faraday would live on in ignorance of how fortunate he was that Henry did not have the use of his legs; Henry would have to be content with exposing the lie that was keeping him in this room, if only God would grant him the opportunity.
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Copperfox
Well-known member
The helicopter which landed near Alipang and Gabe was larger than most passenger helicopters used inside the Enclave. In it, besides John Wisebadger and two pilots, were Sector Agriculture Consultant Okokeso Vekeseha, Energy employee Purvis Kroll, and--to the surprise of the two Grange volunteers--the two female partners in the triumvirate, the Undersecretaries of Sustainable Energy and Eco-Sensitive Agriculture.
John came halfway out the helicopter's door to shout, "Henry has been located! Gabe, can you look after Al's bicycle till it can be retrieved?"
"No harder than looking after my horse and my dog!" the African-American huntsman shouted back. "Is Henry safe?"
"We're in a hurry to make sure he is," John told him. "Al, get in!"
Gabe didn't slow them down with any more questions. Fleetingly gripping Gabe's arms as a goodbye, Alipang hastened to board the helicopter, which soon was airborne again. As soon as he could, he asked John, "Where HAS Henry been all this time?"
But it was the Energy Undersecretary who answered: "Citizen Spafford is in the infirmary of an Overseer station, to which we are headed right now."
"Undersecretary, is it true that he's in psychiatric treatment?"
"Something of the kind is alleged; but there are considerable irregularities, which is why my colleague and I are looking into the matter ourselves."
The Agriculture Undersecretary added, "The Deputy Commander is also taking notice, but he's preoccupied today with some situation up in the North Dakota Sector; so he said that whatever Energy and I agree on here, he'll officially support it."
Now John took over: "Bill Shao smelled a rat, a rat by the name of Ralph Durgan. Purvis here got hold of me with the information Bill turned up, about a serious malfeasance. Purvis, you tell him."
Visibly pleased to be given a favorable spotlight in the presence of so many big shots, the trucker explained to Alipang: "Mr. Shao examined the telephone database at Power Station 27, and found that there had been tampering to conceal the record of a call on the day Odette Galloway got hurt. But he had the skill to retrieve the record, and found out that Mr. Durgan had received an emergency call while manning the watch desk. Henry was using Miss Galloway's cellphone, getting around the DNA obstacle by having her hand touching it. Henry reported without wasting words that he was with a bear-attack victim who urgently needed medical aid. But Mr. Durgan refused to believe the report. Although Henry may not have known whom he was helping, Mr. Durgan would have known by caller-ID that the phone in use was Miss Galloway's. Maybe he thought she was playing a prank."
"But where he became culpable," interjected the Energy Undersecretary, "was when he learned by other means that Odette really had been injured, and he tried to cover up his negligence."
"That still doesn't explain how Henry came to be in Overseer custody," said Alipang.
"We're working on that," the Energy Undersecretary assured him. "Even as we speak, workers from Power Station 4 are being brain-scanned for their truthfulness in a claim that they found evidence of the power supply to the riding trail's ultrasonic barrier being sabotaged. It was interesting to discover that those particular electrical workers are friends with an Overseer named Kurt Langford, who is known to have been with Odette that day."
"Citizen Spafford may be the key to answering many questions," put in Consultant Vekeseha. "And since he was carrying mail intended for an Agriculture office, our department has a valid interest in what has become of him."
The Energy Undersecretary now leaned toward Alipang and tapped his shoulder. "Doctor Havens, if you look behind your seat, you'll notice a large equipment case. That contains a brainwave-scan set, which I myself intend to operate. When we see your Apache friend, I intend to make VERY sure that we get the real facts."
John came halfway out the helicopter's door to shout, "Henry has been located! Gabe, can you look after Al's bicycle till it can be retrieved?"
"No harder than looking after my horse and my dog!" the African-American huntsman shouted back. "Is Henry safe?"
"We're in a hurry to make sure he is," John told him. "Al, get in!"
Gabe didn't slow them down with any more questions. Fleetingly gripping Gabe's arms as a goodbye, Alipang hastened to board the helicopter, which soon was airborne again. As soon as he could, he asked John, "Where HAS Henry been all this time?"
But it was the Energy Undersecretary who answered: "Citizen Spafford is in the infirmary of an Overseer station, to which we are headed right now."
"Undersecretary, is it true that he's in psychiatric treatment?"
"Something of the kind is alleged; but there are considerable irregularities, which is why my colleague and I are looking into the matter ourselves."
The Agriculture Undersecretary added, "The Deputy Commander is also taking notice, but he's preoccupied today with some situation up in the North Dakota Sector; so he said that whatever Energy and I agree on here, he'll officially support it."
Now John took over: "Bill Shao smelled a rat, a rat by the name of Ralph Durgan. Purvis here got hold of me with the information Bill turned up, about a serious malfeasance. Purvis, you tell him."
Visibly pleased to be given a favorable spotlight in the presence of so many big shots, the trucker explained to Alipang: "Mr. Shao examined the telephone database at Power Station 27, and found that there had been tampering to conceal the record of a call on the day Odette Galloway got hurt. But he had the skill to retrieve the record, and found out that Mr. Durgan had received an emergency call while manning the watch desk. Henry was using Miss Galloway's cellphone, getting around the DNA obstacle by having her hand touching it. Henry reported without wasting words that he was with a bear-attack victim who urgently needed medical aid. But Mr. Durgan refused to believe the report. Although Henry may not have known whom he was helping, Mr. Durgan would have known by caller-ID that the phone in use was Miss Galloway's. Maybe he thought she was playing a prank."
"But where he became culpable," interjected the Energy Undersecretary, "was when he learned by other means that Odette really had been injured, and he tried to cover up his negligence."
"That still doesn't explain how Henry came to be in Overseer custody," said Alipang.
"We're working on that," the Energy Undersecretary assured him. "Even as we speak, workers from Power Station 4 are being brain-scanned for their truthfulness in a claim that they found evidence of the power supply to the riding trail's ultrasonic barrier being sabotaged. It was interesting to discover that those particular electrical workers are friends with an Overseer named Kurt Langford, who is known to have been with Odette that day."
"Citizen Spafford may be the key to answering many questions," put in Consultant Vekeseha. "And since he was carrying mail intended for an Agriculture office, our department has a valid interest in what has become of him."
The Energy Undersecretary now leaned toward Alipang and tapped his shoulder. "Doctor Havens, if you look behind your seat, you'll notice a large equipment case. That contains a brainwave-scan set, which I myself intend to operate. When we see your Apache friend, I intend to make VERY sure that we get the real facts."
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Copperfox
Well-known member
"Undersecretary," John Wisebadger addressed the elder of the two women bearing that title, "would you please tell Doctor Havens what you told me about Kurt Langford?"
The Energy Undersecretary nodded. "I suppose I should. Doctor Havens, each of us in the triumvirate is authorized to read the service records of subordinates of the others. The psychological profile on Overseer Second Class Langford reveals that he is a narcissist, to say the least. He was the only bioproduct of his chromosome sources, and was never disciplined at all during his pre-adulthood. So he is deeply predisposed to expect to have his own way in every personal interaction, and not to care about the well-being of others."
Alipang's voice was pure ice. "In other words, _exactly_ the kind of personality that would relish strutting around an enclosed reservation with a particle-beam weapon and a pistol, intimidating people who have no means of resisting his whims."
The Energy Undersecretary could not meet Alipang's gaze. She had been made aware, after the incident of the July Fourth plane crash, that one Overseer had questioned Alipang while Alipang was under the influence of the tranquilizing vapors from the chemtrail plane... and that Alipang had candidly admitted to despising the Overseers as cowards. By all accounts, the Filipino should have no memory of having _said_ that; but without a doubt, he still _felt_ that way about the enforcers of the Campaign Against Hate. And it was looking as if Overseer Second Class Langford, for one, had justified the exile dentist's contempt. But it still was the cowardly bullies who had almost all of the guns in the Enclave. She continued:
"Judging by what we know so far, it would seem that, whatever caused the barrier failure on the trail, Overseer Langford had no thought for anything but saving himself when that bear attacked. It would not be strange, accordingly, for him also to care only for protecting himself _after_ the incident. Therefore, Doctor Havens.... while I am not _telling_ you what to do... I suggest that you remember something. My colleague and I, for purposes of this investigation, have authority over personnel of the Campaign Against Hate. This means that we have a right to _enforce_ our will. Which in turn means... that action by YOU, in certain extreme cases, would be totally legal, if it served to help us enforce our will. Just have that in mind."
Alipang's voice was no warmer, but was more thoughtful. "In other words, if this Langford has done something you recognize as wrong, like Ralph Durgan, he might lose control in a short-sighted self-protective reaction when confronted with his misdeed. In such a case, you would want to have some chance of being able to stop him from resorting to violence; and since no exile has ever _actually_ assaulted an Overseer, as opposed to being _alleged_ to have done so after he's been murdered and can't bear witness, you have cause to believe that intervention by me would catch him off-guard. At the same time, by being able to say under brain-scan that you never _ordered_ me to take him down, you can cover your own rear in case I fail."
The middle-aged bureaucrat faintly nodded. "Preserving deniability is a valid safety measure."
"Sure. But my giving you deniability means you give me discretion. Be advised, Undersecretary, that I will not raise a hand against any Overseer or Pinkshirt unless *I* judge that such a potentially suicidal act is the lesser of evils."
"I wouldn't expect anything else from you, Doctor Havens. Your conduct when your church service was interrupted by the Deputy Commander proves that you're not a rash hothead."
"The God you deny was with me that day; and I ask Him to be with me now. I also ask that, if possible, my friends John and Purvis be kept clear of any confrontation. Henry too, for that matter. Let _them_ have deniability."
"Well, what if I _want_ to play?" John objected.
"I don't want to lose a good Ombudsman," said Miss Vekeseha--one of the few times she had acted positively friendly to the Arapahoe Granger.
"I repeat, I am not _instructing_ anyone to do anything," the Energy Undersecretary purred.
The Energy Undersecretary nodded. "I suppose I should. Doctor Havens, each of us in the triumvirate is authorized to read the service records of subordinates of the others. The psychological profile on Overseer Second Class Langford reveals that he is a narcissist, to say the least. He was the only bioproduct of his chromosome sources, and was never disciplined at all during his pre-adulthood. So he is deeply predisposed to expect to have his own way in every personal interaction, and not to care about the well-being of others."
Alipang's voice was pure ice. "In other words, _exactly_ the kind of personality that would relish strutting around an enclosed reservation with a particle-beam weapon and a pistol, intimidating people who have no means of resisting his whims."
The Energy Undersecretary could not meet Alipang's gaze. She had been made aware, after the incident of the July Fourth plane crash, that one Overseer had questioned Alipang while Alipang was under the influence of the tranquilizing vapors from the chemtrail plane... and that Alipang had candidly admitted to despising the Overseers as cowards. By all accounts, the Filipino should have no memory of having _said_ that; but without a doubt, he still _felt_ that way about the enforcers of the Campaign Against Hate. And it was looking as if Overseer Second Class Langford, for one, had justified the exile dentist's contempt. But it still was the cowardly bullies who had almost all of the guns in the Enclave. She continued:
"Judging by what we know so far, it would seem that, whatever caused the barrier failure on the trail, Overseer Langford had no thought for anything but saving himself when that bear attacked. It would not be strange, accordingly, for him also to care only for protecting himself _after_ the incident. Therefore, Doctor Havens.... while I am not _telling_ you what to do... I suggest that you remember something. My colleague and I, for purposes of this investigation, have authority over personnel of the Campaign Against Hate. This means that we have a right to _enforce_ our will. Which in turn means... that action by YOU, in certain extreme cases, would be totally legal, if it served to help us enforce our will. Just have that in mind."
Alipang's voice was no warmer, but was more thoughtful. "In other words, if this Langford has done something you recognize as wrong, like Ralph Durgan, he might lose control in a short-sighted self-protective reaction when confronted with his misdeed. In such a case, you would want to have some chance of being able to stop him from resorting to violence; and since no exile has ever _actually_ assaulted an Overseer, as opposed to being _alleged_ to have done so after he's been murdered and can't bear witness, you have cause to believe that intervention by me would catch him off-guard. At the same time, by being able to say under brain-scan that you never _ordered_ me to take him down, you can cover your own rear in case I fail."
The middle-aged bureaucrat faintly nodded. "Preserving deniability is a valid safety measure."
"Sure. But my giving you deniability means you give me discretion. Be advised, Undersecretary, that I will not raise a hand against any Overseer or Pinkshirt unless *I* judge that such a potentially suicidal act is the lesser of evils."
"I wouldn't expect anything else from you, Doctor Havens. Your conduct when your church service was interrupted by the Deputy Commander proves that you're not a rash hothead."
"The God you deny was with me that day; and I ask Him to be with me now. I also ask that, if possible, my friends John and Purvis be kept clear of any confrontation. Henry too, for that matter. Let _them_ have deniability."
"Well, what if I _want_ to play?" John objected.
"I don't want to lose a good Ombudsman," said Miss Vekeseha--one of the few times she had acted positively friendly to the Arapahoe Granger.
"I repeat, I am not _instructing_ anyone to do anything," the Energy Undersecretary purred.
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Copperfox
Well-known member
(Good comparison, Zella!)
Since this helicopter had two pilots, one, a man, could make the call for landing clearance without needing to keep any attention on controlling the aircraft. Thus, while the other pilot, a woman, did the actual flying, he could indulge himself in using visual on the call. Alipang could see over this man's shoulder that the woman answering for the Overseer outpost was not clad as an Overseer, but merely as a rank-and-file Pinkshirt. Alipang also noticed that, in identifying the flight, the aviator said only that it was an official flight from Rapid City, on business for the administration, and that they would want to meet with the most senior person currently on station. Meanwhile, the highest-ranking persons in the helicopter had their faces averted from the pilot's videocam.
Not until the call ended did Alipang look at the two Undersecretaries and say: "He didn't mention _your_ presence on this flight. Is that because you already made it known before you picked me up enroute, or because you want to surprise them?"
"We're surprising them," replied the Agriculture Undersecretary. "I insisted on that, because if Langford is as loose a cannon as we're afraid he is, then if he knows it's us coming, Henry Spafford might suffer a tragic accident before we arrive."
Alipang exchanged a glance with John, then continued: "Another question: why was a plain Pinkshirt manning the comms position?"
Ther female helicopter pilot volunteered the answer: "This particular outpost, as compared with the majority of Overseer stations in the Enclave, has relatively little interaction with exiles, dealing largely with non-exiled personnel who are here in various capacities. Consequently, they don't need as much Overseer muscle. Usually, there are only two Overseers on duty with this station at any time." Her male copilot added, "The Pinkshirts help make sure that we loyal members of the collective don't get corrupted by terrifying, dangerous Amish farmers." The woman then provided a cheerful note: "Of course, the Pinkshirts also go armed."
When the destination came in sight, with a heliport toward which the helicopter descended, three Overseers were visible outdoors. Consulting a data device, the Energy Undersecretary told her companions, "Thanks to their personal tracking chips, I can tell you who those Overseers are. One, the woman, is Overseer First Class Halberd Meteor--yes, she made up that name herself. She is the ranking person of all who are assigned here on any shift. The two men are Tuck Faraday--and yes, Kurt Langford."
"Well, if they're out there in plain view," remarked Purvis Kroll, "at least they're not busy murdering Henry at the moment."
"Citizen Kroll," said the Energy Undersecretary, "I'll ask you to carry the brain-scan apparatus for me. Our pilots will remain with the aircraft. So will you, Ombudsman Wisebadger; I want to keep someone competent in reserve, and I hereby instruct the pilots to cooperate fully with you for any lawful action. Doctor Havens, you will come up front with me; no one will think this abnormal, since Henry Spafford is a close friend of yours. I will do the initial talking. No one else is to say anything until I have announced our authorization, and the outpost personnel have acknowledged it. That will minimize delays."
John had a sudden thought, and addressed the Energy official: "Undersecretary, can they detect _your_ tracking chips? If so, they already know who's coming to see them."
"Don't worry, Ombudsman; officials at our level carry chips which can only be detected by special interrogation sensors--which our hosts for today _don't_ have."
Just before they touched down, a female Pinkshirt who looked like the one who had spoken with the pilot came out of the main outpost building and said something to Halberd Meteor. The leading Overseer then spoke to Tuck Faraday, who went back indoors. "I don't like that," growled Alipang; but the Agriculture Undersecretary said, "We can only continue as planned."
As soon as they were settled on the ground, the Energy Undersecretary hopped out, stooped a little to keep her head well away from the still-turning rotors, and strode up to the two Overseers and one Pinkshirt. Alipang followed her out as quickly as his seat position in the helicopter would permit, and was just in time to hear that the Energy Undersecretary was saying something that included a lot of numbers. Apparently she was providing something like a password, confirming that Deputy Commander Dockerty had empowered her to act for him.
Overseer Meteor did not seem disturbed by this. Langford, whom Alipang disliked from the first glance, did seem disturbed. Alipang was anxious to get inside the station and see Henry with his own eyes; but he could only trust God and the Energy Undersecretary, in that order, to make things work out.
Since this helicopter had two pilots, one, a man, could make the call for landing clearance without needing to keep any attention on controlling the aircraft. Thus, while the other pilot, a woman, did the actual flying, he could indulge himself in using visual on the call. Alipang could see over this man's shoulder that the woman answering for the Overseer outpost was not clad as an Overseer, but merely as a rank-and-file Pinkshirt. Alipang also noticed that, in identifying the flight, the aviator said only that it was an official flight from Rapid City, on business for the administration, and that they would want to meet with the most senior person currently on station. Meanwhile, the highest-ranking persons in the helicopter had their faces averted from the pilot's videocam.
Not until the call ended did Alipang look at the two Undersecretaries and say: "He didn't mention _your_ presence on this flight. Is that because you already made it known before you picked me up enroute, or because you want to surprise them?"
"We're surprising them," replied the Agriculture Undersecretary. "I insisted on that, because if Langford is as loose a cannon as we're afraid he is, then if he knows it's us coming, Henry Spafford might suffer a tragic accident before we arrive."
Alipang exchanged a glance with John, then continued: "Another question: why was a plain Pinkshirt manning the comms position?"
Ther female helicopter pilot volunteered the answer: "This particular outpost, as compared with the majority of Overseer stations in the Enclave, has relatively little interaction with exiles, dealing largely with non-exiled personnel who are here in various capacities. Consequently, they don't need as much Overseer muscle. Usually, there are only two Overseers on duty with this station at any time." Her male copilot added, "The Pinkshirts help make sure that we loyal members of the collective don't get corrupted by terrifying, dangerous Amish farmers." The woman then provided a cheerful note: "Of course, the Pinkshirts also go armed."
When the destination came in sight, with a heliport toward which the helicopter descended, three Overseers were visible outdoors. Consulting a data device, the Energy Undersecretary told her companions, "Thanks to their personal tracking chips, I can tell you who those Overseers are. One, the woman, is Overseer First Class Halberd Meteor--yes, she made up that name herself. She is the ranking person of all who are assigned here on any shift. The two men are Tuck Faraday--and yes, Kurt Langford."
"Well, if they're out there in plain view," remarked Purvis Kroll, "at least they're not busy murdering Henry at the moment."
"Citizen Kroll," said the Energy Undersecretary, "I'll ask you to carry the brain-scan apparatus for me. Our pilots will remain with the aircraft. So will you, Ombudsman Wisebadger; I want to keep someone competent in reserve, and I hereby instruct the pilots to cooperate fully with you for any lawful action. Doctor Havens, you will come up front with me; no one will think this abnormal, since Henry Spafford is a close friend of yours. I will do the initial talking. No one else is to say anything until I have announced our authorization, and the outpost personnel have acknowledged it. That will minimize delays."
John had a sudden thought, and addressed the Energy official: "Undersecretary, can they detect _your_ tracking chips? If so, they already know who's coming to see them."
"Don't worry, Ombudsman; officials at our level carry chips which can only be detected by special interrogation sensors--which our hosts for today _don't_ have."
Just before they touched down, a female Pinkshirt who looked like the one who had spoken with the pilot came out of the main outpost building and said something to Halberd Meteor. The leading Overseer then spoke to Tuck Faraday, who went back indoors. "I don't like that," growled Alipang; but the Agriculture Undersecretary said, "We can only continue as planned."
As soon as they were settled on the ground, the Energy Undersecretary hopped out, stooped a little to keep her head well away from the still-turning rotors, and strode up to the two Overseers and one Pinkshirt. Alipang followed her out as quickly as his seat position in the helicopter would permit, and was just in time to hear that the Energy Undersecretary was saying something that included a lot of numbers. Apparently she was providing something like a password, confirming that Deputy Commander Dockerty had empowered her to act for him.
Overseer Meteor did not seem disturbed by this. Langford, whom Alipang disliked from the first glance, did seem disturbed. Alipang was anxious to get inside the station and see Henry with his own eyes; but he could only trust God and the Energy Undersecretary, in that order, to make things work out.
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Haha, yes.
That made me laugh. I don't know much about Amish farmers, but they don't seem terrifying or dangerous...
Copperfox
Well-known member
The helicopter pilot who said that was conscious of the irony, while the official administration in my story is only a hair's breadth away from seriously saying that Amish people really ARE dangerous. As with other aspects of my dystopic future, this comes directly from trends we can see NOW. George Orwell, in his definitive dystopic novel "1984," observed that no dictatorship can tolerate anyone disagreeing with it EVEN in his private thoughts. And in our own time, we can see an increasing tendency for those in power to claim that mere disagreement on the part of citizens is almost the same thing as if the citizens planned an armed uprising.
Copperfox
Well-known member
Alipang was able to hear clearly when the leading Overseer asked the Energy Undersecretary, "Is this about Citizen Spafford?"
"It is," the older woman affirmed bruskly. "Since he is an auxiliary worker for Agriculture, my colleague here also has a stake in what happens to him."
"We should have been told _immediately_ where Spafford was," added the Agriculture Undersecretary, even more bruskly.
Only now did even a trace of worry appear on Halberd Meteor's face. "We didn't want to waste your time until the subject was lucid. He's been sunk in a deep emotional confusion, and we've been working to get him normal enough so he can give an account of himself."
"But he's come pretty much to his senses by now," Langford offered.
"Then we've come at the right time," said the Energy Undersecretary, gesturing with one hand toward the apparatus being brought from the helicopter by Purvis Kroll; "and I will run my own test of how communicative Citizen Spafford is now."
The Overseers didn't argue any further, but led the way into the building. The female Pinkshirt who had received the approach call fell in behind them, and was joined by a male Pinkshirt. Both of these were armed, which made the Agriculture Undersecretary, Sector Consultant Vekeseha and Purvis Kroll nervous; but the Energy Undersecretary was undismayed. She knew that there was no way the crew of this outpost could hide their guilt if they did any violence to someone as high-ranking as herself or her younger counterpart. Alipang, for his part, was not afraid--only restraining himself from tearing the place down upon the heads of its personnel.
It was not a very large building. Up a flight of stairs, along a corridor, and they were at the room where Henry Spafford was being kept. In front of the closed door stood two nice-looking female Pinkshirts, neither of them old but one younger than the other; to Alipang's eyes and instincts, they seemed as harmless as any member of the Campaign Against Hate could be. They had items of medical technology about their persons, rather than weapons. They looked a little scared as they gazed upon the Energy Undersecretary; perhaps they already knew she was a no-nonsense type, and perhaps they knew that she would realize they had been part of something that was unethical _even_ by the standards of their organization. As soon as the visitors were immediately in front of them, they opened the door and retreated into the room as the visitors entered. Alipang and the senior of the Undersecretaries led the way, closely followed by Purvis with the brain-scanning set. The two Agriculture officials were more hesitant.
At the instant that sounds inside the room became audible, Alipang heard the voice of Tuck Faraday saying something like, "You'll feel better when you've told everything." But if this was addressed to Henry Spafford, as it seemed to be, Henry would need more than a chance to talk before he felt better.
Propped up in a hospital bed, Henry looked pale and gaunt, as if they had not fed him very much during the approximate week since the grizzly incident. And there was a lethargy about him; he scarcely reacted to the sight of his Filipino friend coming in and the sound of Alipang speaking his name.
"Overseer Faraday," snapped the Energy Undersecretary, "you will download all records of Citizen Spafford's treatment, and any recorded questioning, into my data device; and you will keep out of the way while I perform an independent brain scan on him." She turned toward the two young women who seemed to be the station's medical staff. "You two will shave a section of scalp on top of his head, and a section on the rear of his head; I am using full-array electrodes here."
The women complied, not meeting the Undersecretary's eyes.
"It is," the older woman affirmed bruskly. "Since he is an auxiliary worker for Agriculture, my colleague here also has a stake in what happens to him."
"We should have been told _immediately_ where Spafford was," added the Agriculture Undersecretary, even more bruskly.
Only now did even a trace of worry appear on Halberd Meteor's face. "We didn't want to waste your time until the subject was lucid. He's been sunk in a deep emotional confusion, and we've been working to get him normal enough so he can give an account of himself."
"But he's come pretty much to his senses by now," Langford offered.
"Then we've come at the right time," said the Energy Undersecretary, gesturing with one hand toward the apparatus being brought from the helicopter by Purvis Kroll; "and I will run my own test of how communicative Citizen Spafford is now."
The Overseers didn't argue any further, but led the way into the building. The female Pinkshirt who had received the approach call fell in behind them, and was joined by a male Pinkshirt. Both of these were armed, which made the Agriculture Undersecretary, Sector Consultant Vekeseha and Purvis Kroll nervous; but the Energy Undersecretary was undismayed. She knew that there was no way the crew of this outpost could hide their guilt if they did any violence to someone as high-ranking as herself or her younger counterpart. Alipang, for his part, was not afraid--only restraining himself from tearing the place down upon the heads of its personnel.
It was not a very large building. Up a flight of stairs, along a corridor, and they were at the room where Henry Spafford was being kept. In front of the closed door stood two nice-looking female Pinkshirts, neither of them old but one younger than the other; to Alipang's eyes and instincts, they seemed as harmless as any member of the Campaign Against Hate could be. They had items of medical technology about their persons, rather than weapons. They looked a little scared as they gazed upon the Energy Undersecretary; perhaps they already knew she was a no-nonsense type, and perhaps they knew that she would realize they had been part of something that was unethical _even_ by the standards of their organization. As soon as the visitors were immediately in front of them, they opened the door and retreated into the room as the visitors entered. Alipang and the senior of the Undersecretaries led the way, closely followed by Purvis with the brain-scanning set. The two Agriculture officials were more hesitant.
At the instant that sounds inside the room became audible, Alipang heard the voice of Tuck Faraday saying something like, "You'll feel better when you've told everything." But if this was addressed to Henry Spafford, as it seemed to be, Henry would need more than a chance to talk before he felt better.
Propped up in a hospital bed, Henry looked pale and gaunt, as if they had not fed him very much during the approximate week since the grizzly incident. And there was a lethargy about him; he scarcely reacted to the sight of his Filipino friend coming in and the sound of Alipang speaking his name.
"Overseer Faraday," snapped the Energy Undersecretary, "you will download all records of Citizen Spafford's treatment, and any recorded questioning, into my data device; and you will keep out of the way while I perform an independent brain scan on him." She turned toward the two young women who seemed to be the station's medical staff. "You two will shave a section of scalp on top of his head, and a section on the rear of his head; I am using full-array electrodes here."
The women complied, not meeting the Undersecretary's eyes.
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Copperfox
Well-known member
This infirmary room proved to be much larger than the space needed to house one patient. Most of the windowless room's length extended to the right of a person coming in, the entrance being to Henry's own right side where he lay. At the far end was another hospital bed, not in use at present; in between was an island structure, providing drawer and cabinet space and a broad countertop for the needs of the medical staff.
The small crowd of persons arranged itself in a semicircle around Henry's bed. Last into the room, and occupying the doorway as if wanting to bar any departure, were Kurt Langford and his supervisor Halberd Meteor. Tuck Faraday shifted close to them, once he had connected the Energy Undersecretary's recording device to a data jack. Then there was Purvis Kroll, helping the Energy Undersecretary set up her brainwave reader. Alipang, stationing himself at the foot of the bed, saw that Henry looked at the device as if he saw such devices every day. Behind Alipang and to his right, four nervous young women were clustered together in identical uncertainty: the two noncombatant Pinkshirts, and the two Agriculture bureaucrats. Except for the Agriculture Undersecretary, all four of these were already starting to drift back toward the unused end of the room, as if all of them wished no part of what was coming next. The young Undersecretary stood her ground for the moment, since she did have some sincere concern for Henry. Finally, the two armed Pinkshirts were to Henry's left, on the side of the bed farthest from the room entrance.
Henry remained silent until after the electrodes were attached to his head. Then his friendly interrogator spoke to him directly: "Grange volunteer Henry Spafford, do you know where you are?"
The Apache drew a long breath, looked at the nearby Overseers, and then looked back at the Energy Undersecretary. "All I've been told is that this is the infirmary of an Overseer station."
Brainwaves registered a truthful answer.
"I'll make this as easy for you as I can, Citizen Spafford. Understand that, together with your Agriculture chain of command, I am in charge here now. You don't need to satisfy anyone else; you only need to tell the truth to the best of your knowledge. In your own words, tell me how you came to be here, when you had previously been on the foothills recreational trail."
The station personnel showed far more tension than Henry did. Sluggishly but clearly, he began, with his brainwaves declaring honesty in his every word:
"I was riding parallel to that trail, carrying letters to an Agriculture Department office, when I heard roaring and screaming from a point ON the trail. I knew enough about their setup to know that no wild animal could GET onto that trail unless the protection system failed. So I hurried onto the trail myself, and Cochise going there without balking proved that the ultrasonic emitters were out of commission."
Alipang noticed Overseer Langford tensing up for some reason.
"Who is Cochise?" asked the questioner.
"My private horse. He wouldn't face the grizzly, so I had to tackle it on foot. No one here will tell me where Cochise got to."
"We'll check on that once we get you released from here," the Energy Undersecretary assured him, in a gentler tone than her usual speech. "Now, tell us what persons you saw, and what you did when you found the bear that was roaring."
Henry turned his face toward Kurt Langford. "I saw _that_ man, running for his life. I didn't think to blame him for it, since he was unarmed. But a woman who had apparently been with him wasn't so lucky at escaping. The grizzly was mauling her, so I shot the grizzly. By God's grace, I wasn't too late to save the woman. But you must have satellite imagery to tell you as much."
"We do have imagery, but it's important to hear _your_description of the incident. At the time you came to the woman's aid, did you know who she was?"
Henry took another long breath. "At that time, no, I didn't. Face down, torn and bleeding-- I only saw a casualty needing first aid. So I dressed her wounds, then figured out a way to make her dataphone work for me so I could try to call for help. I called a speed-dial number, but the man who answered the phone cursed at me and accused me of joining her in a prank."
"What did you do then?"
"I carried her all the way to the nearest shelter cabin. It had a landline phone, with a little placard giving emergency numbers to call. I called the Overseers first, since they would be armed, in case other predators were on the trail. But I think they were already on their way even _before_ I made that call, because they showed up scarcely two minutes after." Henry glanced yet again at Langford. "Makes sense, now that I know the man who ran away was an Overseer. He would have had a dataphone too, and could have called his friends. That lady Overseer was one of the people who showed up" --looking at Halberd Meteor. "This other man only showed up later" --indicating Tuck Faraday.
The Energy Undersecretary paused, and gathered the whole assemblage together with her eyes. "Let everyone be aware, as my own ear-implant is making Rapid City aware, that Citizen Spafford reads true in everything he is telling me. Now for the more sensitive part."
The Agriculture Undersecretary could see, as Alipang also saw, that all five armed personnel of the station were exchanging uneasy glances. This did not improve her own confidence. In common with Consultant Vekeseha and the two medical women, she wished now to be out of this room; but three Overseers, whether intentionally or not, were blocking that escape. The two Pinkshirt physician assistants retreated behind the cabinet-island; the Agriculture ladies, following them, ended up standing in positions that bracketed them, with the Undersecretary next to the slightly-older of the Pinkshirt women and the Sector Consultant next to the slightly-younger one.
"Citizen Spafford," the Energy Undersecretary went on with no sign of anxiety, "what reason was given to you for their keeping you here this long with no outside communication?"
"They told me that I had sabotaged the sonic fence, to LET that grizzly onto the trail SO THAT it would attack Miss Galloway."
"You say her name now."
"The Overseers told me who she was; like I say, I hadn't recognized her at first, all messed up and bloody."
"And did you in any way _purposely_ do anything to endanger Ombudsman Galloway?"
"Of course not! That's the most ridiculous thing I've heard in ages--except for the _other_ whopper, saying that I _wanted_ that hop-around for myself."
The monitor screen still said "TRUE"--which did not prevent Kurt Langford from suddenly screaming, "LIAR!!"
The small crowd of persons arranged itself in a semicircle around Henry's bed. Last into the room, and occupying the doorway as if wanting to bar any departure, were Kurt Langford and his supervisor Halberd Meteor. Tuck Faraday shifted close to them, once he had connected the Energy Undersecretary's recording device to a data jack. Then there was Purvis Kroll, helping the Energy Undersecretary set up her brainwave reader. Alipang, stationing himself at the foot of the bed, saw that Henry looked at the device as if he saw such devices every day. Behind Alipang and to his right, four nervous young women were clustered together in identical uncertainty: the two noncombatant Pinkshirts, and the two Agriculture bureaucrats. Except for the Agriculture Undersecretary, all four of these were already starting to drift back toward the unused end of the room, as if all of them wished no part of what was coming next. The young Undersecretary stood her ground for the moment, since she did have some sincere concern for Henry. Finally, the two armed Pinkshirts were to Henry's left, on the side of the bed farthest from the room entrance.
Henry remained silent until after the electrodes were attached to his head. Then his friendly interrogator spoke to him directly: "Grange volunteer Henry Spafford, do you know where you are?"
The Apache drew a long breath, looked at the nearby Overseers, and then looked back at the Energy Undersecretary. "All I've been told is that this is the infirmary of an Overseer station."
Brainwaves registered a truthful answer.
"I'll make this as easy for you as I can, Citizen Spafford. Understand that, together with your Agriculture chain of command, I am in charge here now. You don't need to satisfy anyone else; you only need to tell the truth to the best of your knowledge. In your own words, tell me how you came to be here, when you had previously been on the foothills recreational trail."
The station personnel showed far more tension than Henry did. Sluggishly but clearly, he began, with his brainwaves declaring honesty in his every word:
"I was riding parallel to that trail, carrying letters to an Agriculture Department office, when I heard roaring and screaming from a point ON the trail. I knew enough about their setup to know that no wild animal could GET onto that trail unless the protection system failed. So I hurried onto the trail myself, and Cochise going there without balking proved that the ultrasonic emitters were out of commission."
Alipang noticed Overseer Langford tensing up for some reason.
"Who is Cochise?" asked the questioner.
"My private horse. He wouldn't face the grizzly, so I had to tackle it on foot. No one here will tell me where Cochise got to."
"We'll check on that once we get you released from here," the Energy Undersecretary assured him, in a gentler tone than her usual speech. "Now, tell us what persons you saw, and what you did when you found the bear that was roaring."
Henry turned his face toward Kurt Langford. "I saw _that_ man, running for his life. I didn't think to blame him for it, since he was unarmed. But a woman who had apparently been with him wasn't so lucky at escaping. The grizzly was mauling her, so I shot the grizzly. By God's grace, I wasn't too late to save the woman. But you must have satellite imagery to tell you as much."
"We do have imagery, but it's important to hear _your_description of the incident. At the time you came to the woman's aid, did you know who she was?"
Henry took another long breath. "At that time, no, I didn't. Face down, torn and bleeding-- I only saw a casualty needing first aid. So I dressed her wounds, then figured out a way to make her dataphone work for me so I could try to call for help. I called a speed-dial number, but the man who answered the phone cursed at me and accused me of joining her in a prank."
"What did you do then?"
"I carried her all the way to the nearest shelter cabin. It had a landline phone, with a little placard giving emergency numbers to call. I called the Overseers first, since they would be armed, in case other predators were on the trail. But I think they were already on their way even _before_ I made that call, because they showed up scarcely two minutes after." Henry glanced yet again at Langford. "Makes sense, now that I know the man who ran away was an Overseer. He would have had a dataphone too, and could have called his friends. That lady Overseer was one of the people who showed up" --looking at Halberd Meteor. "This other man only showed up later" --indicating Tuck Faraday.
The Energy Undersecretary paused, and gathered the whole assemblage together with her eyes. "Let everyone be aware, as my own ear-implant is making Rapid City aware, that Citizen Spafford reads true in everything he is telling me. Now for the more sensitive part."
The Agriculture Undersecretary could see, as Alipang also saw, that all five armed personnel of the station were exchanging uneasy glances. This did not improve her own confidence. In common with Consultant Vekeseha and the two medical women, she wished now to be out of this room; but three Overseers, whether intentionally or not, were blocking that escape. The two Pinkshirt physician assistants retreated behind the cabinet-island; the Agriculture ladies, following them, ended up standing in positions that bracketed them, with the Undersecretary next to the slightly-older of the Pinkshirt women and the Sector Consultant next to the slightly-younger one.
"Citizen Spafford," the Energy Undersecretary went on with no sign of anxiety, "what reason was given to you for their keeping you here this long with no outside communication?"
"They told me that I had sabotaged the sonic fence, to LET that grizzly onto the trail SO THAT it would attack Miss Galloway."
"You say her name now."
"The Overseers told me who she was; like I say, I hadn't recognized her at first, all messed up and bloody."
"And did you in any way _purposely_ do anything to endanger Ombudsman Galloway?"
"Of course not! That's the most ridiculous thing I've heard in ages--except for the _other_ whopper, saying that I _wanted_ that hop-around for myself."
The monitor screen still said "TRUE"--which did not prevent Kurt Langford from suddenly screaming, "LIAR!!"
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Copperfox
Well-known member
Overseer Faraday and Overseer First Class Meteor both placed lightly restraining hands on Langford. "We mustn't distrust the Undersecretary's equipment," said Meteor. "There must have been a misunderstanding at an earlier point."
As for _this_ point in time, Alipang was already measuring the room, thinking what series of moves would have the best chance of putting all five prospective antagonists out of action before any of them could taser him, or draw a gun and shoot him.
"But this Biblical _was_ hot for Odette!" cried Langford into his superior's face. "You _know_ that all those hypocrites are boiling with lust under the surface; it's lesson one in our training! They _don't_ really have any so-called purity! Please, chief, you're not going to side with _them,_ are you?"
"Not with them..." She looked at the Energy Undersecretary, and at Alipang. "But I am responsible for station safety. Undersecretary, I can't agree to releasing this God-fascist. Before you came, he was saying the opposite of what he says now. Obviously he's unstable, so he's dangerous. Come back when we've had a little more time with him."
"Spafford DID admit to having sabotaged the barrier!" screeched Langford.
"No, you only _thought_ I was admitting it," retorted Henry, sounding as if his force of will was getting stronger, "because you _wanted_ to believe that you had made ME believe I was guilty!"
Behind Alipang, each one of the four nervous unarmed young women was thinking exactly the same thought:
I don't want to be here, but I can't get out of the room without drawing dangerous attention to myself. This is going to turn ugly any moment now! I'm standing right next to a woman belonging to the other side of this confrontation; she doesn't like being here now any more than I do--but maybe I can keep us out of the brunt of what's coming if she and I _seem_ to be, well, neutralizing each other, cancelling each other out...
Confirming that this train of thought was proceeding at the same speed in all four women, the Agriculture Undersecretary and the Pinkshirt medical woman beside her slipped their arms around each other simultaneously; and the Sector Consultant and the other Pinkshirt medical woman _also_ vaguely embraced in the same fashion at the same instant. Besides what was in their conscious minds, all four were also viscerally reaching for anyone, anything to grab on to in a state of growing fright. The shared thought in their four brains continued:
If this blows up, surely no one will purposely single me out for physical harm; but I could be a scapegoat some way, just as that Apache was being made a scapegoat for Langford's cowardice. If I can just _look_ as if I was doing something to try to control or moderate the situation... This woman I'm in a hug with right now is as unarmed and scared as I am. If I just hang on to her, and keep out of the blowup, afterwards I can say whatever works. I can say I was fighting her, or placing her under arrest, or surrendering to her, or stopping her from panicking, or protecting her from getting hurt...
Thus nominally clinching and clashing in theoretically desperate combat, without any of them really doing anything injurious to her "opponent," the two pairs of women sat down on the unused infirmary bed, still clinging to each other.
"I don't think you understood my authorization, Overseer Meteor," the Energy Undersecretary was pronouncing slowly and coldly. "Right now, MY ordering you is the same as the Deputy Commander ordering you. So stop arguing and let me remove Citizen Spafford from your custody!"
Alipang's eyes were on Langford. That man was... going... to... crack...
As for _this_ point in time, Alipang was already measuring the room, thinking what series of moves would have the best chance of putting all five prospective antagonists out of action before any of them could taser him, or draw a gun and shoot him.
"But this Biblical _was_ hot for Odette!" cried Langford into his superior's face. "You _know_ that all those hypocrites are boiling with lust under the surface; it's lesson one in our training! They _don't_ really have any so-called purity! Please, chief, you're not going to side with _them,_ are you?"
"Not with them..." She looked at the Energy Undersecretary, and at Alipang. "But I am responsible for station safety. Undersecretary, I can't agree to releasing this God-fascist. Before you came, he was saying the opposite of what he says now. Obviously he's unstable, so he's dangerous. Come back when we've had a little more time with him."
"Spafford DID admit to having sabotaged the barrier!" screeched Langford.
"No, you only _thought_ I was admitting it," retorted Henry, sounding as if his force of will was getting stronger, "because you _wanted_ to believe that you had made ME believe I was guilty!"
Behind Alipang, each one of the four nervous unarmed young women was thinking exactly the same thought:
I don't want to be here, but I can't get out of the room without drawing dangerous attention to myself. This is going to turn ugly any moment now! I'm standing right next to a woman belonging to the other side of this confrontation; she doesn't like being here now any more than I do--but maybe I can keep us out of the brunt of what's coming if she and I _seem_ to be, well, neutralizing each other, cancelling each other out...
Confirming that this train of thought was proceeding at the same speed in all four women, the Agriculture Undersecretary and the Pinkshirt medical woman beside her slipped their arms around each other simultaneously; and the Sector Consultant and the other Pinkshirt medical woman _also_ vaguely embraced in the same fashion at the same instant. Besides what was in their conscious minds, all four were also viscerally reaching for anyone, anything to grab on to in a state of growing fright. The shared thought in their four brains continued:
If this blows up, surely no one will purposely single me out for physical harm; but I could be a scapegoat some way, just as that Apache was being made a scapegoat for Langford's cowardice. If I can just _look_ as if I was doing something to try to control or moderate the situation... This woman I'm in a hug with right now is as unarmed and scared as I am. If I just hang on to her, and keep out of the blowup, afterwards I can say whatever works. I can say I was fighting her, or placing her under arrest, or surrendering to her, or stopping her from panicking, or protecting her from getting hurt...
Thus nominally clinching and clashing in theoretically desperate combat, without any of them really doing anything injurious to her "opponent," the two pairs of women sat down on the unused infirmary bed, still clinging to each other.
"I don't think you understood my authorization, Overseer Meteor," the Energy Undersecretary was pronouncing slowly and coldly. "Right now, MY ordering you is the same as the Deputy Commander ordering you. So stop arguing and let me remove Citizen Spafford from your custody!"
Alipang's eyes were on Langford. That man was... going... to... crack...
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Copperfox
Well-known member
"Those Pinkshirt women at the back of the room, and others too, kept _saying_ I wanted Miss Galloway for myself," declared Henry. (This much attention directed their way was enough to cause the two pairs of women sitting on the empty bed to clutch each other twice as closely.) "But I no more want to make love to her than I want to eat tree bark."
"I have to ask your pardon, Henry," said the Energy Undersecretary. "I once encouraged Odette to chase you; I thought she could win you over. But I certainly never heard of you giving--"
This was as far as she got before a blast of obscenity spewed out of Kurt Langford's mouth.... and his sidearm leaped out of its holster, while the other two Overseers made no move to stop him. He brought the pistol to bear on Henry's head, while Henry, still affected by what he had been through, stared in disbelief, doing nothing to try to save himself. Purvis Kroll, never a fighter, threw himself down to huddle in a corner.
But Alipang was already moving. Langford's position placed his gun arm in easy reach, and the Escrimador struck the weapon downward before the shot was fired. There was a blast of noise, but the expanding bullet went harmlessly into the floor. Before Meteor or Faraday could show much more response than Henry had shown, Alipang had broken Langford's gun arm like a straw, and stopped Faraday with a kick to the stomach which made him jostle Halberd Meteor. Almost in the same motion, Alipang snatch-lifted the screaming Langford and flung him bodily all the way across the bed, passing above Henry, to knock the armed Pinkshirts over like two bowling pins, their heads whacking against the wall.
The two Agriculture ladies and the two Pinkshirt-medic ladies, not loosening their embraces, lurched off the bed-edge where they had been sitting, to take shelter against bullets behind the cabinet-island. There each woman positively burrowed into the arms of the one she was clasped with, all four of them wailing in terror.
Alipang backhanded Meteor in the face, hard, as she tried to aim her taser at him, then kicked her feet out from under her. She had not even hit the floor before Alipang slugged Faraday in the jaw as he was trying to recover, then vaulted over Henry's bed to pounce upon the armed Pinkshirts. The female one of those two was closer to having her gun ready, so Alipang did not spare her for being a woman. A broken wrist put her out of the fight, and an iron fist mashing an ear did as much for the male. Without even waiting to see what was happening on the other side of the bed, he hurled his latest victim above Henry in the opposite direction from hurling Langford. The additional display of strength was timely; the latest human missile knocked Halberd Meteor down yet again, only just soon enough to prevent her from blowing Alipang's brains out with her gun.
The four women behind the cabinet-island, meanwhile, had the hugging-and-screaming part of the action well in hand, or well in their squeezing arms.
One more time hurdling the bed in which the dazed Henry crouched helplessly, and Alipang got his chance to deliver finishers: a knockout punch to the station chief, and a harder one to Faraday. Seeing that no active threats remained, he dropped out of maximum berserk-Moro mode, and took in his surroundings with a calmer eye.
The Energy Undersecretary had picked up one of the dropped pistols; her DNA, unlike Alipang's, worked for them. She held the gun expertly, but was not menacing Alipang with it; in fact, she smiled at him, saying, "You don't do things halfway, do you, Doctor Havens?"
Alipang did not return her smile; SHE was not the one who might be put to death for this. But he had had no choice; he couldn't let Henry be murdered. "I might as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb," he told the older woman.
"Doctor Havens, you may not like me, because I do still think the Enclave is a good thing; but I promise you, if anyone hangs, it won't be you OR Henry Spafford. He was obviously being set up; now he's UN-set-up. And you... plug me into a reactor core, but you've just cleaned house on a _whole_ Overseer station!"
Behind their shelter, the two pairs of terrified women still did not relax their equal two-way embraces; but the two Pinkshirt women, who had lately been trying to brainwash Henry, now tried to look as if they had somehow been defeated and captured by the two bureaucrats whom they were hugging. Defeated certainly was how they felt, and they both hoped now that their make-believe antagonists might protect them. Their hope was not in vain; the two Agriculture women had no such prideful denial-reaction to their fear as had motivated the troublemaker Langford. The Agriculture Undersecretary and the Sector Consultant, simply embarrassed at their own fright, felt no ill-will at all toward the other two women who had shared that fright, and of their own accord continued holding them close until all was clearly safe. They realized that if things had gone differently, they might now be clinging to the Pinkshirt women as to protectors.
Only after the two pairs of women had reluctantly let go of each other--since with the real action finished, the two medics did have a duty to render first aid to their five _genuinely_ defeated comrades--did the Agriculture Undersecretary have leisure to notice that a text message had come to her dataphone.
Kurt Langford's electrician friends from Power Station 4 had confessed that the barrier power failure had been caused merely by substandard materials, not by any malicious tampering. Henry Spafford was as vindicated as vindicated could be--although at present, he still could not walk.
In the aftermath of the bizarre combat, while some were staring at Alipang Havens with awe as he checked Henry for any injuries, the Agriculture Undersecretary, with her face still half-buried in the hair of her "opponent," had the germ of an idea. Alipang would be dead now if he had not been able to take out his enemies _before_ they could shoot him; so people with guns had not been rendered irrelevant. Should it not be possible to give her own department more muscle in the future by bringing some Forest Rangers inside the Enclave?
"I have to ask your pardon, Henry," said the Energy Undersecretary. "I once encouraged Odette to chase you; I thought she could win you over. But I certainly never heard of you giving--"
This was as far as she got before a blast of obscenity spewed out of Kurt Langford's mouth.... and his sidearm leaped out of its holster, while the other two Overseers made no move to stop him. He brought the pistol to bear on Henry's head, while Henry, still affected by what he had been through, stared in disbelief, doing nothing to try to save himself. Purvis Kroll, never a fighter, threw himself down to huddle in a corner.
But Alipang was already moving. Langford's position placed his gun arm in easy reach, and the Escrimador struck the weapon downward before the shot was fired. There was a blast of noise, but the expanding bullet went harmlessly into the floor. Before Meteor or Faraday could show much more response than Henry had shown, Alipang had broken Langford's gun arm like a straw, and stopped Faraday with a kick to the stomach which made him jostle Halberd Meteor. Almost in the same motion, Alipang snatch-lifted the screaming Langford and flung him bodily all the way across the bed, passing above Henry, to knock the armed Pinkshirts over like two bowling pins, their heads whacking against the wall.
The two Agriculture ladies and the two Pinkshirt-medic ladies, not loosening their embraces, lurched off the bed-edge where they had been sitting, to take shelter against bullets behind the cabinet-island. There each woman positively burrowed into the arms of the one she was clasped with, all four of them wailing in terror.
Alipang backhanded Meteor in the face, hard, as she tried to aim her taser at him, then kicked her feet out from under her. She had not even hit the floor before Alipang slugged Faraday in the jaw as he was trying to recover, then vaulted over Henry's bed to pounce upon the armed Pinkshirts. The female one of those two was closer to having her gun ready, so Alipang did not spare her for being a woman. A broken wrist put her out of the fight, and an iron fist mashing an ear did as much for the male. Without even waiting to see what was happening on the other side of the bed, he hurled his latest victim above Henry in the opposite direction from hurling Langford. The additional display of strength was timely; the latest human missile knocked Halberd Meteor down yet again, only just soon enough to prevent her from blowing Alipang's brains out with her gun.
The four women behind the cabinet-island, meanwhile, had the hugging-and-screaming part of the action well in hand, or well in their squeezing arms.
One more time hurdling the bed in which the dazed Henry crouched helplessly, and Alipang got his chance to deliver finishers: a knockout punch to the station chief, and a harder one to Faraday. Seeing that no active threats remained, he dropped out of maximum berserk-Moro mode, and took in his surroundings with a calmer eye.
The Energy Undersecretary had picked up one of the dropped pistols; her DNA, unlike Alipang's, worked for them. She held the gun expertly, but was not menacing Alipang with it; in fact, she smiled at him, saying, "You don't do things halfway, do you, Doctor Havens?"
Alipang did not return her smile; SHE was not the one who might be put to death for this. But he had had no choice; he couldn't let Henry be murdered. "I might as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb," he told the older woman.
"Doctor Havens, you may not like me, because I do still think the Enclave is a good thing; but I promise you, if anyone hangs, it won't be you OR Henry Spafford. He was obviously being set up; now he's UN-set-up. And you... plug me into a reactor core, but you've just cleaned house on a _whole_ Overseer station!"
Behind their shelter, the two pairs of terrified women still did not relax their equal two-way embraces; but the two Pinkshirt women, who had lately been trying to brainwash Henry, now tried to look as if they had somehow been defeated and captured by the two bureaucrats whom they were hugging. Defeated certainly was how they felt, and they both hoped now that their make-believe antagonists might protect them. Their hope was not in vain; the two Agriculture women had no such prideful denial-reaction to their fear as had motivated the troublemaker Langford. The Agriculture Undersecretary and the Sector Consultant, simply embarrassed at their own fright, felt no ill-will at all toward the other two women who had shared that fright, and of their own accord continued holding them close until all was clearly safe. They realized that if things had gone differently, they might now be clinging to the Pinkshirt women as to protectors.
Only after the two pairs of women had reluctantly let go of each other--since with the real action finished, the two medics did have a duty to render first aid to their five _genuinely_ defeated comrades--did the Agriculture Undersecretary have leisure to notice that a text message had come to her dataphone.
Kurt Langford's electrician friends from Power Station 4 had confessed that the barrier power failure had been caused merely by substandard materials, not by any malicious tampering. Henry Spafford was as vindicated as vindicated could be--although at present, he still could not walk.
In the aftermath of the bizarre combat, while some were staring at Alipang Havens with awe as he checked Henry for any injuries, the Agriculture Undersecretary, with her face still half-buried in the hair of her "opponent," had the germ of an idea. Alipang would be dead now if he had not been able to take out his enemies _before_ they could shoot him; so people with guns had not been rendered irrelevant. Should it not be possible to give her own department more muscle in the future by bringing some Forest Rangers inside the Enclave?
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Copperfox
Well-known member
Chapter 51: Plans for the Holidays
A painted Hopi dancer-clown, a koshare, the Native American equivalent of a court jester, stood at comical attention to hear whatever words his master might say. The Hopi man was named Sunki Pavatea; he himself did not know the name of the young woman who had just been removed from this room to be taken to another lavish bedchamber of the Presidential Palace. If he had any thoughts about what had just been done to that anonymous woman, he kept them to himself.
El Presidente Tonio Formentera of the Aztec-Maoist People's Republic of Aztlan had never bothered to learn much about the Bible; but somewhere along his path of predatory ambition, he had learned that the Bible said it was a great sin for a father and his son both to pleasure themselves upon the same woman. Accordingly, in deliberate mockery of Moses and that whole Biblical crowd, ever since becoming El Presidente, he had made a habit of periodically taking some female Christian or Jewish prisoner from a slave-labor camp, using her himself, then handing her over to his firstborn son Emilio for Emilio to do the same.
Tonio, however, had not subjected Jessica Trevette to this treatment on her past visits to his palaces. Only Emilio had taken the President of the Diversity States to his bed on those occasions; that way, Tonio could humiliate Jessica in a different fashion, by making it clear to her that El Presidente de Aztlan found _more_ enjoyment in any random slave girl than in the undeniably gorgeous mistress of the Rainbow House.
It never crossed his mind to suspect that Emilio might be developing feelings more tender than lustful cruelty for Jessica.
On this mid-November evening in Los Angeles, Tonio found he was actually missing _conversations_ with Senorita Trevette. "Why do you suppose Jessica doesn't come to see us anymore?" he suddenly asked his jester.
Sunki went into an effortless handstand, from which position he casually replied, "No doubt, Presidente, she became bored with me." Sunki added absurdly crude reasons for President Trevette to have wearied of him.
Tonio smiled. The sincerity in his smile came from his sincere enjoyment of being a hypocrite. The particular aspect of his hypocrisy which concerned a Hopi Indian consisted in the fact that, in the campaign which had led to establishing the Aztec-Maoist People's Republic, Tonio and his propagandists had made political capital out of a professed solidarity with all Native American peoples...but once installed in Los Angeles, they had shut out of power all persons who identified themselves mainly as Native Americans, _except_ for those claiming Aztec or Mayan ancestry. Thus a man like Sunki, whose tribe had lived deep within the former United States, had to accept a status inferior to other Native American peoples who _hadn't_ had their ancient power base in the former United States.
"You conduct the best self-criticism sessions, my friend," the dictator told his jester. "But I suppose we must face the fact that Jessica regards us as ungrateful to her. After all, my son and all our gang leaders are unanimous in praising her for her skill at personally giving them pleasure; and she has been such a good participant in human sacrifices besides; and yet I went and accused her of plotting to use biological weapons against Aztlan."
Sunki came upright again. "It's true, jefe, that some beautiful women can get annoyed over the slightest little thing. And I've noticed that there are quite a few beautiful women in the Bi-Continental Assembly."
"So you do watch the newscasts out of Caracas."
"They provide me with comedy material, jefe."
Tonio frowned. "Well, it's no joke that the Hemispheric Union isn't fooled by my accusation. I suppose I'd better stop launching air attacks on the Diversity States for awhile. Make them believe we're backing off, until we're ready for the BIG operation."
"I believe you're right, Presidente. My being alive shows that I _always_ believe you're right. And if you act peaceful enough, maybe by Winter Solstice Jessica Trevette will consent to come back and make more streamcast speeches from your palace, declaring that all of this year's tensions are the fault of white-supremacist Christians."
"She'll need to hurry up with it, my friend. Once the big operation goes down, there won't BE nearly as many Christians left for her to blame things on."
Sunki Pavatea went into a mime routine, depicting inventive ways that captive Biblicals might be sacrificed on the Altars of Solar Influence. Tonio Formentera laughed at the performance. But El Presidente would not have been laughing if he had known more about his jester. Just as Presidente Formentera did not know that the spy Gloria Cervantes was really working against him rather than for him, so he did not know that Sunki Pavatea was the very man about whom Senorita Cervantes had told the Texas Rangers in a secret meeting.
The Hopi dancer-clown was the very man who, as reported by the lady spy to the Rangers, was haunted by his powerlessness to save the victims of human sacrifice in Aztlan....but grimly determined to bring vengeance upon their murderers.
And by _extremely_ sophisticated channels of secret communication, Sunki Pavatea was passing all information he could obtain to the nameless army of justice.
A painted Hopi dancer-clown, a koshare, the Native American equivalent of a court jester, stood at comical attention to hear whatever words his master might say. The Hopi man was named Sunki Pavatea; he himself did not know the name of the young woman who had just been removed from this room to be taken to another lavish bedchamber of the Presidential Palace. If he had any thoughts about what had just been done to that anonymous woman, he kept them to himself.
El Presidente Tonio Formentera of the Aztec-Maoist People's Republic of Aztlan had never bothered to learn much about the Bible; but somewhere along his path of predatory ambition, he had learned that the Bible said it was a great sin for a father and his son both to pleasure themselves upon the same woman. Accordingly, in deliberate mockery of Moses and that whole Biblical crowd, ever since becoming El Presidente, he had made a habit of periodically taking some female Christian or Jewish prisoner from a slave-labor camp, using her himself, then handing her over to his firstborn son Emilio for Emilio to do the same.
Tonio, however, had not subjected Jessica Trevette to this treatment on her past visits to his palaces. Only Emilio had taken the President of the Diversity States to his bed on those occasions; that way, Tonio could humiliate Jessica in a different fashion, by making it clear to her that El Presidente de Aztlan found _more_ enjoyment in any random slave girl than in the undeniably gorgeous mistress of the Rainbow House.
It never crossed his mind to suspect that Emilio might be developing feelings more tender than lustful cruelty for Jessica.
On this mid-November evening in Los Angeles, Tonio found he was actually missing _conversations_ with Senorita Trevette. "Why do you suppose Jessica doesn't come to see us anymore?" he suddenly asked his jester.
Sunki went into an effortless handstand, from which position he casually replied, "No doubt, Presidente, she became bored with me." Sunki added absurdly crude reasons for President Trevette to have wearied of him.
Tonio smiled. The sincerity in his smile came from his sincere enjoyment of being a hypocrite. The particular aspect of his hypocrisy which concerned a Hopi Indian consisted in the fact that, in the campaign which had led to establishing the Aztec-Maoist People's Republic, Tonio and his propagandists had made political capital out of a professed solidarity with all Native American peoples...but once installed in Los Angeles, they had shut out of power all persons who identified themselves mainly as Native Americans, _except_ for those claiming Aztec or Mayan ancestry. Thus a man like Sunki, whose tribe had lived deep within the former United States, had to accept a status inferior to other Native American peoples who _hadn't_ had their ancient power base in the former United States.
"You conduct the best self-criticism sessions, my friend," the dictator told his jester. "But I suppose we must face the fact that Jessica regards us as ungrateful to her. After all, my son and all our gang leaders are unanimous in praising her for her skill at personally giving them pleasure; and she has been such a good participant in human sacrifices besides; and yet I went and accused her of plotting to use biological weapons against Aztlan."
Sunki came upright again. "It's true, jefe, that some beautiful women can get annoyed over the slightest little thing. And I've noticed that there are quite a few beautiful women in the Bi-Continental Assembly."
"So you do watch the newscasts out of Caracas."
"They provide me with comedy material, jefe."
Tonio frowned. "Well, it's no joke that the Hemispheric Union isn't fooled by my accusation. I suppose I'd better stop launching air attacks on the Diversity States for awhile. Make them believe we're backing off, until we're ready for the BIG operation."
"I believe you're right, Presidente. My being alive shows that I _always_ believe you're right. And if you act peaceful enough, maybe by Winter Solstice Jessica Trevette will consent to come back and make more streamcast speeches from your palace, declaring that all of this year's tensions are the fault of white-supremacist Christians."
"She'll need to hurry up with it, my friend. Once the big operation goes down, there won't BE nearly as many Christians left for her to blame things on."
Sunki Pavatea went into a mime routine, depicting inventive ways that captive Biblicals might be sacrificed on the Altars of Solar Influence. Tonio Formentera laughed at the performance. But El Presidente would not have been laughing if he had known more about his jester. Just as Presidente Formentera did not know that the spy Gloria Cervantes was really working against him rather than for him, so he did not know that Sunki Pavatea was the very man about whom Senorita Cervantes had told the Texas Rangers in a secret meeting.
The Hopi dancer-clown was the very man who, as reported by the lady spy to the Rangers, was haunted by his powerlessness to save the victims of human sacrifice in Aztlan....but grimly determined to bring vengeance upon their murderers.
And by _extremely_ sophisticated channels of secret communication, Sunki Pavatea was passing all information he could obtain to the nameless army of justice.
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Copperfox
Well-known member
("Jefe" means "chief" or "boss")
After breakfast on the second morning after the day of Henry Spafford's liberation, Odette Galloway and Fawn Seavers were lying on a sofa together at Fawn's temporary apartment in Omaha. Fawn had brought her friend here yesterday, as soon as Odette had been released from the trauma center. Fawn had used her influence as a union official -- and one who had not needed to expend any medical ration-points on herself recently -- to ensure that Odette received the best tissue regeneration, treatment that proletarians could scarcely dream of getting, as a result of which Odette could already be hugged without pain, as long as the hug was not too tight. And the patient's scalp was practically back to normal, so that stroking her hair was an available option to express affection without inflicting pain. Right now, the longtime friends who had just become new roommates were watching a two-dimensional television set, listening to the Oneness Channel's perennial talking head Rhoda Gardner, champion of "media democracy."
With a straight face, Ms. Gardner was reporting: "...President Tonio Formentera announced that Aztlano security forces had unmasked the real culprits behind this year's border tensions and disinformation campaigns: a covert network of Christian fundamentalists and capitalist businessmen, seeking to enrich themselves by stirring up hatred and intolerance. Arrests are expected this week in Los Angeles, Aguila del Sol and other Aztlano cities. At the Rainbow House in Washington, President Trevette expressed gratification at this new victory over bourgeois reactionary elements. And in Caracas, the Venezuelan Alliance delegation to the Bi-Continental Assembly renewed its pledge to combat Judeo-Christian racism and sexism wherever they may appear."
Some video of Secretary of State Megavolt Atkinson followed. She said such vague things about multi-cultural bridge-building, that the watching women could not guess whether this was current commentary on the Aztlano announcement, or whether it was stock footage from some past appearance by the Secretary. It occurred to Odette that perhaps the streamcasting executives had called for use of the clip simply because Meg Atkinson was black, so that showing her would help the viewing public NOT to identify the Fairness Party with white supremacists.
Odette sighed, nudging Fawn's blonde head with her brown-haired one. "I wish they would streamcast the story of how Henry rescued me. From what you've been able to find out, he doesn't seem to have gotten much in the way of thanks."
Fawn side-hugged her. "At least now it's proven that he didn't sabotage the sonic emitters on the trail, so in private conversations you're allowed to give him credit for saving you. Judging by my sources, Citizen Spafford came close to being brainpurged, for a murder plot that never happened. Our own Enclave Undersecretary cleared his name, and stuffed your boyfriend in the recycle chute instead."
"EX-boyfriend," Odette corrected. "Kurt is as EX as they come; he's even EX-er than Ralph."
"Who is also disgraced. So, darling, are you up for the new assignment?" Last night, as they went to bed, Fawn had told Odette about an opportunity for them to work together again immediately. A power station in the southern Wyoming strip, just _outside_ the Enclave, had lost a couple of senior personnel to Aztlano kidnappers, and Odette and Fawn had the qualifications to replace them.
Odette kissed Fawn's cheek. "Yes, I'm up for it, and grateful for it. Although I still wish I could thank Henry in person, I don't want to _reside_ in that scraggy wilderness anymore! This new location will still have scenery, but no giant carnivores."
Six or seven minutes later, the television recaptured the two women's attention, because Rhoda Gardner made a fresh mention of the Enclave--
"As the Winter Solstice season approaches once again, a beam of enlightenment is on its way to the primitive Biblicals in the Western Enclave." A picture of a fair-haired, handsome teenage boy filled the screen as Ms. Gardner continued: "Daffodil Ford, the male bioproduct of Diversity States Ambassador-At-Large Samantha Ford, is undertaking ambitious on-the-job training this winter, by boldly plunging into an attempt to civilize the exiles. Vice President Carlos Anselmo has facilitated the undertaking, and he could hardly have picked a better time, in view of the recent savage riots by Quaker extremists in the North Dakota Sector of the Enclave..."
Odette fell silent. In the short interval when things had looked promising with Kurt Langford, Kurt had told her about his part in an intimidation raid on a church. Those Christians had not been rioting at all; and Odette felt a sudden cold certainty that not one of the Quakers in North Dakota had committed any violence either. Authorities who would lie about Henry Spafford, would also lie about Quakers.
But Odette had to look out for herself; and getting back together with the kindly and helpful Fawn seemed like as good a karma as she could ask for. Best not to look back; best to be glad that she was OUT of that Enclave mess.
"That's a cute boy," Fawn was remarking. "Maybe two or three years from now, you and I will get a chance to meet him and improve his education in biology."
"Um, yeah. If he was raised by a diplomat, he should be a natural at private negotiations."
After breakfast on the second morning after the day of Henry Spafford's liberation, Odette Galloway and Fawn Seavers were lying on a sofa together at Fawn's temporary apartment in Omaha. Fawn had brought her friend here yesterday, as soon as Odette had been released from the trauma center. Fawn had used her influence as a union official -- and one who had not needed to expend any medical ration-points on herself recently -- to ensure that Odette received the best tissue regeneration, treatment that proletarians could scarcely dream of getting, as a result of which Odette could already be hugged without pain, as long as the hug was not too tight. And the patient's scalp was practically back to normal, so that stroking her hair was an available option to express affection without inflicting pain. Right now, the longtime friends who had just become new roommates were watching a two-dimensional television set, listening to the Oneness Channel's perennial talking head Rhoda Gardner, champion of "media democracy."
With a straight face, Ms. Gardner was reporting: "...President Tonio Formentera announced that Aztlano security forces had unmasked the real culprits behind this year's border tensions and disinformation campaigns: a covert network of Christian fundamentalists and capitalist businessmen, seeking to enrich themselves by stirring up hatred and intolerance. Arrests are expected this week in Los Angeles, Aguila del Sol and other Aztlano cities. At the Rainbow House in Washington, President Trevette expressed gratification at this new victory over bourgeois reactionary elements. And in Caracas, the Venezuelan Alliance delegation to the Bi-Continental Assembly renewed its pledge to combat Judeo-Christian racism and sexism wherever they may appear."
Some video of Secretary of State Megavolt Atkinson followed. She said such vague things about multi-cultural bridge-building, that the watching women could not guess whether this was current commentary on the Aztlano announcement, or whether it was stock footage from some past appearance by the Secretary. It occurred to Odette that perhaps the streamcasting executives had called for use of the clip simply because Meg Atkinson was black, so that showing her would help the viewing public NOT to identify the Fairness Party with white supremacists.
Odette sighed, nudging Fawn's blonde head with her brown-haired one. "I wish they would streamcast the story of how Henry rescued me. From what you've been able to find out, he doesn't seem to have gotten much in the way of thanks."
Fawn side-hugged her. "At least now it's proven that he didn't sabotage the sonic emitters on the trail, so in private conversations you're allowed to give him credit for saving you. Judging by my sources, Citizen Spafford came close to being brainpurged, for a murder plot that never happened. Our own Enclave Undersecretary cleared his name, and stuffed your boyfriend in the recycle chute instead."
"EX-boyfriend," Odette corrected. "Kurt is as EX as they come; he's even EX-er than Ralph."
"Who is also disgraced. So, darling, are you up for the new assignment?" Last night, as they went to bed, Fawn had told Odette about an opportunity for them to work together again immediately. A power station in the southern Wyoming strip, just _outside_ the Enclave, had lost a couple of senior personnel to Aztlano kidnappers, and Odette and Fawn had the qualifications to replace them.
Odette kissed Fawn's cheek. "Yes, I'm up for it, and grateful for it. Although I still wish I could thank Henry in person, I don't want to _reside_ in that scraggy wilderness anymore! This new location will still have scenery, but no giant carnivores."
Six or seven minutes later, the television recaptured the two women's attention, because Rhoda Gardner made a fresh mention of the Enclave--
"As the Winter Solstice season approaches once again, a beam of enlightenment is on its way to the primitive Biblicals in the Western Enclave." A picture of a fair-haired, handsome teenage boy filled the screen as Ms. Gardner continued: "Daffodil Ford, the male bioproduct of Diversity States Ambassador-At-Large Samantha Ford, is undertaking ambitious on-the-job training this winter, by boldly plunging into an attempt to civilize the exiles. Vice President Carlos Anselmo has facilitated the undertaking, and he could hardly have picked a better time, in view of the recent savage riots by Quaker extremists in the North Dakota Sector of the Enclave..."
Odette fell silent. In the short interval when things had looked promising with Kurt Langford, Kurt had told her about his part in an intimidation raid on a church. Those Christians had not been rioting at all; and Odette felt a sudden cold certainty that not one of the Quakers in North Dakota had committed any violence either. Authorities who would lie about Henry Spafford, would also lie about Quakers.
But Odette had to look out for herself; and getting back together with the kindly and helpful Fawn seemed like as good a karma as she could ask for. Best not to look back; best to be glad that she was OUT of that Enclave mess.
"That's a cute boy," Fawn was remarking. "Maybe two or three years from now, you and I will get a chance to meet him and improve his education in biology."
"Um, yeah. If he was raised by a diplomat, he should be a natural at private negotiations."
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Zella
New member
Pitchike12
Member
I hoping that Copperfox will post some more!