The First Love Of Alipang Havens
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Copperfox
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As had happened at the union-versus-union riot in Ohio, so the Collective Dormitory where the latest "kinetic negotiation" was happening had been cleared of noncombatants by the District Police, for these police were the nearest thing left in America to the old local police forces. The duties and authority of the District Police allowed them to protect noncombatants and protect themselves; in fact, one overzealous union plumber who tried assaulting a cop had been shot in the stomach, and his friends were ordered to leave him to die slowly where he lay, on pain of being killed the same way themselves. The heroes of organized labor, on both sides of the negotiation, took this lesson to heart; but the pressure of their leaders would not let them stop their battle between themselves, a battle which the cops would let them fight. As in Cincinnati, it would be the D.S. Marshals who would make any arrests that would be made for the actual union clash.
Before Dan and Evan had even come up on the bus, The District Police had cordoned off an area around the Collective Dormitory and the two buildings adjoining it, and when all noncombatants were safely out, they had allowed the electricians and plumbers to surge in and out of the residential structure. The battle developed into a King Of The Hill Game; the cold weather made it natural for both sides to want control of the heated interior, so an outside observer could get an idea of the fortunes of war by seeing which union's colors were more to be seen _outside_ the Collective Dormitory at a given moment.
By the time Evan got his chance to speak to the intake panel, the riot scene was under the eye of Senior Deputy Marshal Rodney Camberville. He noted that, over time, three or four pairs of fighters--that is, one plumber and one electrician in each case, whatever the genders--came outside and _stayed_ away from the real melee, making just enough pretense of grappling with each other that they could hope not to be forced back into the main fight.
"Not as serious about it as those construction workers," Camberville muttered to a female subordinate. Then he put through a call to Operations Marshal Barbara Weckerling; her having given no word on coming to this riot scene was leaving Camberville uncertain about whether Chief Justice Lake was milking this conflict for bribes, as he had done with the battle in Ohio.
Weckerling proved to be not alone, and to be occupied in private pleasures. This argued against the current riot being set up for money-milking; but to be safe, Camberville went up the chain to Continental Marshal Yelena Gorshkovskaya. The head of the Marshals' Service was able to affirm that neither union's president had made bribery overtures; she commended Camberville for checking, though, and told him to make sure the fighting went on for at least another half hour. "A good sign will be if they start sending reinforcements," Gorshkovskaya advised him. "Use your own judgment then; I'll be monitoring events, and I'll take the responsibility for getting Barbara out of her fun if she's needed."
So Camberville told his Marshals to round up the pairs of unenthusiastic fighters and force them back into the main battle, a battle whose opposing forces were performing about equally so far.
When Evan Rand had completed his credentialling for the Secondary Healthcare Workers Union, he and Dan emerged from the former county courthouse, to be told by District Police that the riot was still on, and must still be avoided. "Are there fights like these in the performing-arts unions?" he asked Dan.
"Not so far. Less rivalry between those interdependent groups, I guess. Any disputes that have occurred between artistic unions since the present organized-labor structure began, have been solved either in arbitration....or with street-dancing contests."
And on their way they went, to share the good news with Summer and Chilena.
At the Collective Dormitory, meanwhile, the plumbers finally began to gain a recognizable advantage. Accordingly, when the electricians sent reinforcements, Senior Deputy Marshal Camberville allowed the new fighters to pass the cordon and join their friends. Then he called Continental Marshal Gorshkovskaya, offering his recommendation that if no bribe offers from the unions were forthcoming in the next fifteen minutes, the Marshals on scene should go ahead and make arrests on _both_ sides. "The labor camps could use some fresh forced laborers," he pointed out.
Before Dan and Evan had even come up on the bus, The District Police had cordoned off an area around the Collective Dormitory and the two buildings adjoining it, and when all noncombatants were safely out, they had allowed the electricians and plumbers to surge in and out of the residential structure. The battle developed into a King Of The Hill Game; the cold weather made it natural for both sides to want control of the heated interior, so an outside observer could get an idea of the fortunes of war by seeing which union's colors were more to be seen _outside_ the Collective Dormitory at a given moment.
By the time Evan got his chance to speak to the intake panel, the riot scene was under the eye of Senior Deputy Marshal Rodney Camberville. He noted that, over time, three or four pairs of fighters--that is, one plumber and one electrician in each case, whatever the genders--came outside and _stayed_ away from the real melee, making just enough pretense of grappling with each other that they could hope not to be forced back into the main fight.
"Not as serious about it as those construction workers," Camberville muttered to a female subordinate. Then he put through a call to Operations Marshal Barbara Weckerling; her having given no word on coming to this riot scene was leaving Camberville uncertain about whether Chief Justice Lake was milking this conflict for bribes, as he had done with the battle in Ohio.
Weckerling proved to be not alone, and to be occupied in private pleasures. This argued against the current riot being set up for money-milking; but to be safe, Camberville went up the chain to Continental Marshal Yelena Gorshkovskaya. The head of the Marshals' Service was able to affirm that neither union's president had made bribery overtures; she commended Camberville for checking, though, and told him to make sure the fighting went on for at least another half hour. "A good sign will be if they start sending reinforcements," Gorshkovskaya advised him. "Use your own judgment then; I'll be monitoring events, and I'll take the responsibility for getting Barbara out of her fun if she's needed."
So Camberville told his Marshals to round up the pairs of unenthusiastic fighters and force them back into the main battle, a battle whose opposing forces were performing about equally so far.
When Evan Rand had completed his credentialling for the Secondary Healthcare Workers Union, he and Dan emerged from the former county courthouse, to be told by District Police that the riot was still on, and must still be avoided. "Are there fights like these in the performing-arts unions?" he asked Dan.
"Not so far. Less rivalry between those interdependent groups, I guess. Any disputes that have occurred between artistic unions since the present organized-labor structure began, have been solved either in arbitration....or with street-dancing contests."
And on their way they went, to share the good news with Summer and Chilena.
At the Collective Dormitory, meanwhile, the plumbers finally began to gain a recognizable advantage. Accordingly, when the electricians sent reinforcements, Senior Deputy Marshal Camberville allowed the new fighters to pass the cordon and join their friends. Then he called Continental Marshal Gorshkovskaya, offering his recommendation that if no bribe offers from the unions were forthcoming in the next fifteen minutes, the Marshals on scene should go ahead and make arrests on _both_ sides. "The labor camps could use some fresh forced laborers," he pointed out.
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Copperfox
Well-known member
Chapter 53: Thanksgiving, Complete with Indians
"Right leg again," ordered John Wisebadger, setting down the young Apache brave's left leg and beginning range-of-motion manipulation of the right leg. John and Lynne, along with the physician most involved with Wyoming's Grangers, were spending as much time as they could with the Spafford family, in order to assist in this rehabilitation process.
"Today," declared Irina Stepanova, "is the day when the Overseers told me the disabling nanobots were scheduled to deactivate themselves, detach from your motor nerves, and pass out your kidneys. God willing, sometime tomorrow you will begin to be able to make your leg muscles respond to your brain."
This was good news, if sorely overdue, for Henry Spafford. In the time since his liberation from the far-western Overseer outpost, he had been helplessly dependent on his parents, and others, to move his legs around each day, so as to reduce the atrophy effect from the motor-nerve block which not only had been there for days, but would not even begin to reverse until the cause of the artificial paralysis went away.
"Don't attempt a war dance right then," advised Gloria Spafford, the patient's mother.
"War dance is right," Henry grunted, "after they refused to hurry up the standard shutdown program on their nerve-block nanobots. That was pure meanness. But of _course_ I forgive them, and I turn the other gluteal muscle." He scowled exaggeratedly for the benefit of his anxiously-watching younger siblings, then looked at Irina once more. "What do you think, Doctor? Three days? Four?"
Irina patted Henry's hard shoulder. "To walk normally? Hardly! It helps that you're so young; but muscle atrophy after _weeks_ of complete inactivity still is a serious business. My guess at present is that you should not so much as try to put all your weight on your feet for the first two days after today. But your father and John have built a handrail set for you outside, running between the two cabins." She was referring to the main Spafford family cabin, and Henry's own smaller neighboring cabin which he used mostly as a workshop.
"And you can try walking around leaning on my bicycle, too," offered Henry's ten-year-old sister Leah. This earned her an invitation into her big brother's bearhug.
"That, as a matter of fact, is a good alternate workout, for _after_ you become able to support your weight some," said Irina.
"I should be more grateful just to be alive and not imprisoned anymore," sighed the temporary paraplegic. "But it's a shame we won't all be able to attend the big Thanksgiving feast at the Grange Hall. At this rate, I won't be walking again soon enough."
John Wisebadger and Jay Spafford exchanged whispers, after which Henry's father announced, "Son, we decided we can't stand to see you moping; so we'll spring the secret on you NOW. The Grange is going to _bring_ you to the Hall for Thanksgiving, on your horse with as much help as necessary! After all, you're the guest of honor for this Thanksgiving!"
"What--!" The young huntsman was dumbfounded. "Bless them, I never--! Hey, Mom, Dad, forgive me if I acted as if being with my own family for Thanksgiving wasn't good enough for me."
"It's all right," Gloria assured her son. "We all _will_ be together at the Grange Hall, day after tomorrow, and we would have been sorry to miss that too."
Now Irina Stepanova reclaimed Henry's attention. "Here, young man, let me add to the good news, to keep you motivated." She waited until numerous pairs of inquisitive eyes were upon her, then continued: "The Energy Undersecretary was _extremely_ obliging in her own desire to compensate you for your ordeal. So she extended unheard-of cooperation in allowing me to command the assistance of chemists.... AND she assured me that this cabin is NOT under any close surveillance, so I can _tell_ you what I learned. Of course, you must be cautious about ever repeating it elsewhere."
Another dramatic pause was followed by: "Henry, the sample of your blood, and that washing water you had saved up for so long, _both_ contained traces of the same pacification drug, a formula including lithium. So now you know for certain."
Henry gazed thoughtfully at everyone in the room in turn, before saying, "Blessed be God. Even if I can't DO anything about the knowledge, it _does_ feel better to know. It's a thing to be thankful for, even if I have to be quiet about my thankfulness."
"Right leg again," ordered John Wisebadger, setting down the young Apache brave's left leg and beginning range-of-motion manipulation of the right leg. John and Lynne, along with the physician most involved with Wyoming's Grangers, were spending as much time as they could with the Spafford family, in order to assist in this rehabilitation process.
"Today," declared Irina Stepanova, "is the day when the Overseers told me the disabling nanobots were scheduled to deactivate themselves, detach from your motor nerves, and pass out your kidneys. God willing, sometime tomorrow you will begin to be able to make your leg muscles respond to your brain."
This was good news, if sorely overdue, for Henry Spafford. In the time since his liberation from the far-western Overseer outpost, he had been helplessly dependent on his parents, and others, to move his legs around each day, so as to reduce the atrophy effect from the motor-nerve block which not only had been there for days, but would not even begin to reverse until the cause of the artificial paralysis went away.
"Don't attempt a war dance right then," advised Gloria Spafford, the patient's mother.
"War dance is right," Henry grunted, "after they refused to hurry up the standard shutdown program on their nerve-block nanobots. That was pure meanness. But of _course_ I forgive them, and I turn the other gluteal muscle." He scowled exaggeratedly for the benefit of his anxiously-watching younger siblings, then looked at Irina once more. "What do you think, Doctor? Three days? Four?"
Irina patted Henry's hard shoulder. "To walk normally? Hardly! It helps that you're so young; but muscle atrophy after _weeks_ of complete inactivity still is a serious business. My guess at present is that you should not so much as try to put all your weight on your feet for the first two days after today. But your father and John have built a handrail set for you outside, running between the two cabins." She was referring to the main Spafford family cabin, and Henry's own smaller neighboring cabin which he used mostly as a workshop.
"And you can try walking around leaning on my bicycle, too," offered Henry's ten-year-old sister Leah. This earned her an invitation into her big brother's bearhug.
"That, as a matter of fact, is a good alternate workout, for _after_ you become able to support your weight some," said Irina.
"I should be more grateful just to be alive and not imprisoned anymore," sighed the temporary paraplegic. "But it's a shame we won't all be able to attend the big Thanksgiving feast at the Grange Hall. At this rate, I won't be walking again soon enough."
John Wisebadger and Jay Spafford exchanged whispers, after which Henry's father announced, "Son, we decided we can't stand to see you moping; so we'll spring the secret on you NOW. The Grange is going to _bring_ you to the Hall for Thanksgiving, on your horse with as much help as necessary! After all, you're the guest of honor for this Thanksgiving!"
"What--!" The young huntsman was dumbfounded. "Bless them, I never--! Hey, Mom, Dad, forgive me if I acted as if being with my own family for Thanksgiving wasn't good enough for me."
"It's all right," Gloria assured her son. "We all _will_ be together at the Grange Hall, day after tomorrow, and we would have been sorry to miss that too."
Now Irina Stepanova reclaimed Henry's attention. "Here, young man, let me add to the good news, to keep you motivated." She waited until numerous pairs of inquisitive eyes were upon her, then continued: "The Energy Undersecretary was _extremely_ obliging in her own desire to compensate you for your ordeal. So she extended unheard-of cooperation in allowing me to command the assistance of chemists.... AND she assured me that this cabin is NOT under any close surveillance, so I can _tell_ you what I learned. Of course, you must be cautious about ever repeating it elsewhere."
Another dramatic pause was followed by: "Henry, the sample of your blood, and that washing water you had saved up for so long, _both_ contained traces of the same pacification drug, a formula including lithium. So now you know for certain."
Henry gazed thoughtfully at everyone in the room in turn, before saying, "Blessed be God. Even if I can't DO anything about the knowledge, it _does_ feel better to know. It's a thing to be thankful for, even if I have to be quiet about my thankfulness."
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Copperfox
Well-known member
In front of the Alipang Havens residence, on that same Tuesday morning, Ransom Kramer was gaining appreciation for the Amish habit of building one's social life _around_ one's work. He and his Amish sweetheart, both warmly dressed against Wyoming's frigid November, had contrived to be doing work that they could do in each other's close vicinity.
Lydia was wielding a broom to clear the steps and walks of a new snowfall which was four centimeters deep, but of a powdery texture which made it susceptible to sweeping. (She had done the same for Sylvia Lathrop, just before coming over here for her day's service to the Havens household.) Ransom was splitting logs with an axe, far enough away from Lydia so that any flying piece of wood was unlikely to hit her. The outdoor air was quiet enough that (between whacks of the axe) they had no trouble hearing each other's voices even across their seven or so meters of separation.
"I'm glad that Dr. Havens managed a visit to Henry Spafford the other day, since Dr. Havens won't be at the Grange Hall feast," Lydia remarked. Then she asked, "Have he and Mrs. Havens got train tickets now for themselves AND all their children?" Lydia asked. "Not much point in some of them going to Casper if they all can't go; in that case, they might as well join you and me, having Thanksgiving dinner with Mrs. Lathrop and the Tomisaburos."
"I think they have," said Ransom, casting a glance at Alipang's dental clinic. "Haven't had a chance to ask Al or Kim, they've got so many last-minute patients to see before they go. But Al would have a reason to go to Casper by himself, right after the holiday if not for it. You remember the Pitafis?"
"They're that Asian Christian couple who work for the Merchandise Service, right?"
"Yes. The husband, Sarbar, told the elder Dr. Havens that he was concerned about people's reaction to a new piece of merchandise that was to go on sale at their outlet in Casper immediately after Thanksgiving Day--sort of a faint echo of how the start of Christmas shopping used to be. So Eric Havens wants Alipang to be in Casper when this merchandise begins to be promoted."
"What kind of merchandise?" Lydia asked, logically enough.
"A book, or a series of books." Ransom actually knew who the author in question was; he had known of Trip Conklin's anti-God science-fiction stories even before the Fairness Party takeover of America. But he felt a need to limit what he said. Parabolic microphones might be trained on him and Lydia right now, with Overseers or their Pinkshirt helpers on the listening end. So he put it carefully: "Since the content of the books is reported to be _rather_ strongly secular, Eric doesn't want any of his neighbors reacting too emotionally."
"Lord knows, all of us, even the Plain community, have encountered non-Christian books before."
"Yeah; but this will be the first time since our exile began, that we've had someone act as if we should be positively _grateful_ for--um, for the availability of books which are not really to the tastes of most of us." Ransom had almost forgotten his own caution.
Having reached a stopping place in her snow-sweeping, Lydia came up to her boyfriend, as if she had noticed the weakening of his self-control. "Well, we can pray that the Havens men can keep everyone's head cool." She actually took hold of one of his arms with a mittened hand--which was downright amorous, coming from an Amish maiden. "They surely realize that our Christian testimony is _helped_ by refraining from hysterics."
This close to Lydia, and sensing that she was trying to help him keep calm, Ransom wanted to kiss her. It still was too soon for that--but not too soon for him to feel more sure that he wanted to marry her when they came of age. For the present, there was another bursting desire: the desire to say more to her about WHY he was anxious about this book-selling campaign. Ransom, unlike Lydia, had heard whispers about the Overseers in the North Dakota Sector inventing, out of thin air, an imaginary terrorist group, absurdly called Ku Klux Quakers.
When you had all the guns, you could get away with saying absurd things. But Ransom was not yet sure whether this new excuse for arresting innocent exiles had any connection with this book-promotion business. And the very _fact_ that the Overseers were making up religious-fanatic boogeymen, was what made Ransom the more wary of being spied on.
Resuming his woodcutting, he steered his conversation with Lydia to happier topics, like what chaperoned activities, yet enjoyable ones, he and she might partake of over the Thanksgiving weekend.
Lydia was wielding a broom to clear the steps and walks of a new snowfall which was four centimeters deep, but of a powdery texture which made it susceptible to sweeping. (She had done the same for Sylvia Lathrop, just before coming over here for her day's service to the Havens household.) Ransom was splitting logs with an axe, far enough away from Lydia so that any flying piece of wood was unlikely to hit her. The outdoor air was quiet enough that (between whacks of the axe) they had no trouble hearing each other's voices even across their seven or so meters of separation.
"I'm glad that Dr. Havens managed a visit to Henry Spafford the other day, since Dr. Havens won't be at the Grange Hall feast," Lydia remarked. Then she asked, "Have he and Mrs. Havens got train tickets now for themselves AND all their children?" Lydia asked. "Not much point in some of them going to Casper if they all can't go; in that case, they might as well join you and me, having Thanksgiving dinner with Mrs. Lathrop and the Tomisaburos."
"I think they have," said Ransom, casting a glance at Alipang's dental clinic. "Haven't had a chance to ask Al or Kim, they've got so many last-minute patients to see before they go. But Al would have a reason to go to Casper by himself, right after the holiday if not for it. You remember the Pitafis?"
"They're that Asian Christian couple who work for the Merchandise Service, right?"
"Yes. The husband, Sarbar, told the elder Dr. Havens that he was concerned about people's reaction to a new piece of merchandise that was to go on sale at their outlet in Casper immediately after Thanksgiving Day--sort of a faint echo of how the start of Christmas shopping used to be. So Eric Havens wants Alipang to be in Casper when this merchandise begins to be promoted."
"What kind of merchandise?" Lydia asked, logically enough.
"A book, or a series of books." Ransom actually knew who the author in question was; he had known of Trip Conklin's anti-God science-fiction stories even before the Fairness Party takeover of America. But he felt a need to limit what he said. Parabolic microphones might be trained on him and Lydia right now, with Overseers or their Pinkshirt helpers on the listening end. So he put it carefully: "Since the content of the books is reported to be _rather_ strongly secular, Eric doesn't want any of his neighbors reacting too emotionally."
"Lord knows, all of us, even the Plain community, have encountered non-Christian books before."
"Yeah; but this will be the first time since our exile began, that we've had someone act as if we should be positively _grateful_ for--um, for the availability of books which are not really to the tastes of most of us." Ransom had almost forgotten his own caution.
Having reached a stopping place in her snow-sweeping, Lydia came up to her boyfriend, as if she had noticed the weakening of his self-control. "Well, we can pray that the Havens men can keep everyone's head cool." She actually took hold of one of his arms with a mittened hand--which was downright amorous, coming from an Amish maiden. "They surely realize that our Christian testimony is _helped_ by refraining from hysterics."
This close to Lydia, and sensing that she was trying to help him keep calm, Ransom wanted to kiss her. It still was too soon for that--but not too soon for him to feel more sure that he wanted to marry her when they came of age. For the present, there was another bursting desire: the desire to say more to her about WHY he was anxious about this book-selling campaign. Ransom, unlike Lydia, had heard whispers about the Overseers in the North Dakota Sector inventing, out of thin air, an imaginary terrorist group, absurdly called Ku Klux Quakers.
When you had all the guns, you could get away with saying absurd things. But Ransom was not yet sure whether this new excuse for arresting innocent exiles had any connection with this book-promotion business. And the very _fact_ that the Overseers were making up religious-fanatic boogeymen, was what made Ransom the more wary of being spied on.
Resuming his woodcutting, he steered his conversation with Lydia to happier topics, like what chaperoned activities, yet enjoyable ones, he and she might partake of over the Thanksgiving weekend.
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Copperfox
Well-known member
Yes, I've been promising for a long time that Daffy, who has been deprived of both faith and parental love, would be meeting Alipang, who has had the full benefit of those things and can share the benefit! The actual encounter, though, will occur on the day AFTER Thanksgiving, and so will be in the next chapter.
Copperfox
Well-known member
Prior to this conversation between Ransom and Lydia, Wilson Havens had left the house as soon as breakfast was over. This was nothing mysterious; he was checking up on several of the older and more infirm residents of the neighborhood, and clearing _their_ snow for them. In one case, he also cut up firewood for an elderly lady, as Ransom was doing back at home; in _every_ case, he reminded these less fortunate neighbors that (as was a routine thing by now) the Havens house, with its good fuel supply and solar panels, would be open to them as a shelter from the cold when the Energy Department shut off the electric power for the entire holiday weekend.
Besides these charitable visits, Wilson dropped by the Tomisaburo house. Peter Tomisaburo was out repairing a coal stove at somebody's house; but Mrs. Tomisaburo was available to talk, so Wilson told her: "If everything goes as we expect, Dad will be getting the last two train passes we need from a patient he's seeing today. And with us, the actual Havenses that is, all gone to Casper, there'll be still more space for people to crowd into our house in our absence. So tell Mr. Tomisaburo that if the stove he's working on doesn't let him fix it fast enough, _that_ family can come over to our house for the weekend as well, and escape freezing."
From there, it was on to Sylvia Lathrop's house. "Mrs. Lathrop, have you said anything to Lydia about the possibility of you yourself staying over at our house while we're in Casper?"
"Not yet," the widow replied. "I wouldn't want to get Lydia and Ransom's hopes up too soon, in case your family _isn't_ able to leave Sussex." She was referring to a previous discussion with Wilson's mother. Kim had pointed out that if Sylvia herself spent Thanksgiving weekend at the Havens house, Lydia would naturally go there too; and with the trusted chaperone around, Lydia's parents would be able to tolerate their eldest daughter spending several nights at the same house where Ransom was. This would mean more hours for the young couple to be innocently together. (It would, of course, also mean conserving Sylvia's coal supply for her own house.)
When Wilson came home, his mother met him several doors away from the house. Her pregnancy was showing by now, detectable even beneath her bearskin coat for one who knew the sight of her usual figure. "Good news," she told her son. "Your Dad now has the last two tickets!"
"That's great, Mom! Do Ransom and Lydia know yet?"
Kim Havens assumed an impish expression. "Yes. I'm afraid I played a dirty trick on them: I pretended for half a minute that it _hadn't_ worked out for us to get all the tickets for the trip."
Wilson shared his mother's smile, emphasizing the family resemblance between their faces, though in skin color the boy favored his father. "Okay, Mom, shall I run back to Mrs. Lathrop and tell her it's on for her and Lydia to be at our house over the holiday?"
"Yes, do that, thanks. I'm going back in."
Before heading back to the Lathrop house, Wilson remarked, "What a wild weekend _we're_ going to be missing by going to Grandma and Grandma's house! I bet Ransom and Lydia will get _really_ passionate, like maybe shaking hands!"
= = = = = = = = = = = = =
The next day, Alipang, Kim, Wilson, Esperanza and Brendan boarded their train for Casper, leaving Ransom and Lydia to look after the horses and the temporary lodgers. The son of a Navy SEAL, and the daughter of Amish farmers, again made work part of their courtship, as they performed together the various tasks of moving the guests into the house. The guests, of course, repaid the Havens family's kindness as they could, by helping to prepare for the Thanksgiving dinner which would overlap several households, including the Tomisaburos and the Rocheforts.
During the train ride, while their children were watching the scenery go by and playing word games, Alipang asked Kim to join him in a prayer:
"Heavenly Father, I feel as if You're telling me that we're going to meet someone in Casper this weekend who will become important in our lives. Whoever that person may be, please guide us by Your Spirit to do whatever is best for his or her eternal welfare. In Jesus' name, amen."
Besides these charitable visits, Wilson dropped by the Tomisaburo house. Peter Tomisaburo was out repairing a coal stove at somebody's house; but Mrs. Tomisaburo was available to talk, so Wilson told her: "If everything goes as we expect, Dad will be getting the last two train passes we need from a patient he's seeing today. And with us, the actual Havenses that is, all gone to Casper, there'll be still more space for people to crowd into our house in our absence. So tell Mr. Tomisaburo that if the stove he's working on doesn't let him fix it fast enough, _that_ family can come over to our house for the weekend as well, and escape freezing."
From there, it was on to Sylvia Lathrop's house. "Mrs. Lathrop, have you said anything to Lydia about the possibility of you yourself staying over at our house while we're in Casper?"
"Not yet," the widow replied. "I wouldn't want to get Lydia and Ransom's hopes up too soon, in case your family _isn't_ able to leave Sussex." She was referring to a previous discussion with Wilson's mother. Kim had pointed out that if Sylvia herself spent Thanksgiving weekend at the Havens house, Lydia would naturally go there too; and with the trusted chaperone around, Lydia's parents would be able to tolerate their eldest daughter spending several nights at the same house where Ransom was. This would mean more hours for the young couple to be innocently together. (It would, of course, also mean conserving Sylvia's coal supply for her own house.)
When Wilson came home, his mother met him several doors away from the house. Her pregnancy was showing by now, detectable even beneath her bearskin coat for one who knew the sight of her usual figure. "Good news," she told her son. "Your Dad now has the last two tickets!"
"That's great, Mom! Do Ransom and Lydia know yet?"
Kim Havens assumed an impish expression. "Yes. I'm afraid I played a dirty trick on them: I pretended for half a minute that it _hadn't_ worked out for us to get all the tickets for the trip."
Wilson shared his mother's smile, emphasizing the family resemblance between their faces, though in skin color the boy favored his father. "Okay, Mom, shall I run back to Mrs. Lathrop and tell her it's on for her and Lydia to be at our house over the holiday?"
"Yes, do that, thanks. I'm going back in."
Before heading back to the Lathrop house, Wilson remarked, "What a wild weekend _we're_ going to be missing by going to Grandma and Grandma's house! I bet Ransom and Lydia will get _really_ passionate, like maybe shaking hands!"
= = = = = = = = = = = = =
The next day, Alipang, Kim, Wilson, Esperanza and Brendan boarded their train for Casper, leaving Ransom and Lydia to look after the horses and the temporary lodgers. The son of a Navy SEAL, and the daughter of Amish farmers, again made work part of their courtship, as they performed together the various tasks of moving the guests into the house. The guests, of course, repaid the Havens family's kindness as they could, by helping to prepare for the Thanksgiving dinner which would overlap several households, including the Tomisaburos and the Rocheforts.
During the train ride, while their children were watching the scenery go by and playing word games, Alipang asked Kim to join him in a prayer:
"Heavenly Father, I feel as if You're telling me that we're going to meet someone in Casper this weekend who will become important in our lives. Whoever that person may be, please guide us by Your Spirit to do whatever is best for his or her eternal welfare. In Jesus' name, amen."
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I'm curious--once Daffy has...transformed, will he be able to switch the name "Daffodil" for something a little more...nicer? (I'd say "more masculine," but "Daffodil" isn't even a very feminine name. And people think "Moon Unit" and "Dweezil" were bad.)
Copperfox
Well-known member
The society Daffodil moves in is one which holds masculinity in contempt; but it is also one which holds parents in contempt. So, once Daffodil is officially disassociated with the Tolerance House, probably no one will get on his case if he discards the name his mother gave him.
Copperfox
Well-known member
"Al and Kim themselves won't want you coming out to the station to meet them," Eric Havens was firmly telling Cecilia. "You know they worry about your health, and even the most ordinary sign of you being affected by this cold weather might look worse to their imagination than it is. For _their_ sake, let them walk in our door and see you looking healthy and at ease. Terrance and Harmony will be out there to escort them from the train."
Laying a gentle hand on his mother's shoulder, the youngest of Eric and Cecilia's children seconded his father: "Pastor Zondei will be out there with us, too. Al and the rest won't feel neglected."
Cecilia acquiesced to staying indoors; but she also began staring into space again. Eric didn't like that. He knew that his beloved was thinking about Chilena and Melody again, about not having seen them in years. It was eating at her; Eric was almost certain that this year she had even begun losing weight. So he called her back to the here and now, and to the subject of eating in particular. "Let's go see how those rabbit-and-raccoon pies are doing."
Even Cecilia had adjusted to the Enclave well enough that she could accept forms of meat she would once have thought inedible. She did, after all, have her past experience of peasant-class cuisine in the Philippines--where she had tried never to ask _what_ was being set before her.
= = = = = = = = = = = = =
It was close to one-thirty in the afternoon when the train pulled into the Casper station. It would have arrived sooner, if not for two stops enroute, during which some kind of government freight had been offloaded at the locations of two rural stations of the Agriculture Department. The passengers had been advised by Transport Police on the train to stay put and not snoop. This did not necessarily mean that the unknown freight had any dire and ominous meaning; the authorities liked to keep exiles in the dark about things generally.
On the snow-dusted platform, Harmony and Terrance were swamped with embraces from their nephews Wilson and Brendan and their niece Esperanza. Abraham Zondei was thus the first member of the welcoming committee to speak to Alipang and Kim--quietly.
"Al, you need to pour on the love and attention for your mother _even_ more than you normally would. She's pining for your absent sisters, as well as for Chilena's kids. And that close call you had when rescuing Henry Spafford has only added to her stress."
"I had no choice," Alipang said firmly. "Henry _would_ have been shot dead."
"I know he would have been killed, and I know you didn't have a choice. We all had even less choice about being sentenced to internal exile in the first place; yet we still have to deal with the emotional strains that all these unavoidable circumstances impose on a precious saint like your mother. So be happy and bright for her."
"Of course," Kim answered on her husband's behalf. Then she patted her belly, not yet visibly enlarged. "This may help her mood: an added grandchild who _will_ be where she can see it and cuddle it."
Harmony drew close to her sister-in-law just then. "Why yes, you do have that glow about you. I wish they would let you be tested for the sex of the baby."
Kim shrugged. "For most of history, expecting mothers have had to wait until their passengers disembarked before they knew. I'll survive the waiting. Shall we get going to the house?"
Laying a gentle hand on his mother's shoulder, the youngest of Eric and Cecilia's children seconded his father: "Pastor Zondei will be out there with us, too. Al and the rest won't feel neglected."
Cecilia acquiesced to staying indoors; but she also began staring into space again. Eric didn't like that. He knew that his beloved was thinking about Chilena and Melody again, about not having seen them in years. It was eating at her; Eric was almost certain that this year she had even begun losing weight. So he called her back to the here and now, and to the subject of eating in particular. "Let's go see how those rabbit-and-raccoon pies are doing."
Even Cecilia had adjusted to the Enclave well enough that she could accept forms of meat she would once have thought inedible. She did, after all, have her past experience of peasant-class cuisine in the Philippines--where she had tried never to ask _what_ was being set before her.
= = = = = = = = = = = = =
It was close to one-thirty in the afternoon when the train pulled into the Casper station. It would have arrived sooner, if not for two stops enroute, during which some kind of government freight had been offloaded at the locations of two rural stations of the Agriculture Department. The passengers had been advised by Transport Police on the train to stay put and not snoop. This did not necessarily mean that the unknown freight had any dire and ominous meaning; the authorities liked to keep exiles in the dark about things generally.
On the snow-dusted platform, Harmony and Terrance were swamped with embraces from their nephews Wilson and Brendan and their niece Esperanza. Abraham Zondei was thus the first member of the welcoming committee to speak to Alipang and Kim--quietly.
"Al, you need to pour on the love and attention for your mother _even_ more than you normally would. She's pining for your absent sisters, as well as for Chilena's kids. And that close call you had when rescuing Henry Spafford has only added to her stress."
"I had no choice," Alipang said firmly. "Henry _would_ have been shot dead."
"I know he would have been killed, and I know you didn't have a choice. We all had even less choice about being sentenced to internal exile in the first place; yet we still have to deal with the emotional strains that all these unavoidable circumstances impose on a precious saint like your mother. So be happy and bright for her."
"Of course," Kim answered on her husband's behalf. Then she patted her belly, not yet visibly enlarged. "This may help her mood: an added grandchild who _will_ be where she can see it and cuddle it."
Harmony drew close to her sister-in-law just then. "Why yes, you do have that glow about you. I wish they would let you be tested for the sex of the baby."
Kim shrugged. "For most of history, expecting mothers have had to wait until their passengers disembarked before they knew. I'll survive the waiting. Shall we get going to the house?"
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Copperfox
Well-known member
Kim's just faintly discernible pregnancy did in fact have a salutory effect on her mother-in-law. After lovingly embracing the children and Alipang, Cecilia stood positively entranced at the sight of Kim with her coat removed, as if trying to see the embryo by X-ray vision. It had not been any secret that a new Havens baby was on the way; but seeing Kim, while knowing her to be pregnant, still had a special impact on a grandmother whose heart had room for ANY number of new grandchildren. Suddenly she burst out in tears and sobs, clinging to Kim; but Eric knew his wife well enough to be assured that this was more weeping with joy than otherwise. Kim ended up on the living-room sofa, holding Cecilia as if Cecilia herself had been a child wanting comfort. Cecilia wept so long, and patted Kim's pregnant abdomen so long...that she ended up falling asleep in the arms of her daughter-in-law.
This was a good sign in Eric's mind. Kim, too, understood how precious any sleep was to her profoundly world-weary mother-in-law, and went on cradling her in place as the daytime dinner was being served to others. But Alipang, before he would eat anything himself, stationed himself near his wife and hand-fed her where she reclined.
= = = = = = = = =
The prestige which the Wyoming Observer had earned in its half-year of existence had brought a practical benefit: the combined home and office of Miguel and Tilly De Soto had come to be exempted from the weekend cutoffs of outside electrical power. As a consequence, this home also had become a cold-weather shelter, and the De Sotos were expecting at least seven guests to arrive on Thanksgiving morning, which was when the power would be going off in most exile homes.
But the De Sotos were not expecting the three women who visited them on Wednesday afternoon.
First of these was to enter was Overseer Phosphorus Andrews, on duty and in her reflective uniform. "Since you did so well at wording your report when Citizen Spafford was first found," she told Miguel, "the Campaign Against Hate is furnishing you the content for a followup article. Someone who was a witness to the unauthorized abuse of Citizen Spafford, but who has herself been cleared of wrongdoing, will record a statement on your analog tape recorder, which you can adapt into an article. I'll give it the usual sedition check later." She then returned to her patrol--since NO ONE thought there was any danger of the De Sotos assaulting government officials if not kept at gunpoint.
Then the other two women came in. They were not only in civilian attire, but in high-fashion attire, as if they were on their way to or from a party. (Which was possible, since government personnel were not subject to any such austerity as was imposed on the "Biblicals.") These were Sector Agriculture Consultant Okokeso Vekeseha, looking better than most exiles ever saw her, and an attractive young woman completely unfamiliar to the journalist couple. This woman was in fact the very same Pinkshirt medic with whom Okokeso Vekeseha had taken cover from danger when Alipang Havens had been mopping up the infirmary room with the Overseers.
Ms. Vekeseha, the De Sotos knew. The younger woman exchanged a glance with her companion, received a nod, and introduced herself: "My name is Myra Brooks, and I'm a physician's assistant, originally with the Campaign Against Hate, now reassigned to the Agriculture Consultant's staff." (She did not look unhappy about the change of workplace.) "At the time Citizen Spafford was improperly sequestered, I was stationed at the infirmary to which he, and initially Citizen Galloway, were brought, Citizen Galloway soon being evacuated to Omaha. Kurt Langford deceived me and others about his real reason for treating Spafford as a criminal."
Tilly suddenly brightened up. "Oh! You were one of the Pinkshirt women who were trying to keep out of the way while Alipang Havens was making tofu out of those Overseers."
"Er, um, well, yes, you could put it that way. The Consultant here helped me keep under cover.... Anyway, since the bad conduct of Overseer Langford put a blot on the whole Campaign Against Hate, I asked to be allowed myself to tell your readers how his un-mutual actions were exposed, and how his expulsion from the Overseers was carried out."
Where is Langford now? asked Miguel in a scribbled note.
"In reprogramming, I'm told." (Myra Brooks believed this to be true; very few persons knew that Langford was dead.) "They're looking into the possibility that his jealousy was caused, or facilitated, by monogamistic influence from the Ku Klux Quakers."
No one could fail to see Miguel wince when that fabrication was mentioned. In a sympathetic voice, Ms. Vekeseha told him, "You don't have to report it as _fact_ that the Ku Klux Quakers caused it, only say that there was talk of this."
"And you'll also be able to report some good news deriving from the Spafford case," Myra resumed. "Because of the breach of regulations by an Overseer, the Department of Indoctrination has withdrawn its opposition to a proposal from Agriculture."
"A proposal which goes against monopoly of armed force," put in the Cheyenne woman.
"Armed Forest Rangers will henceforth be assigned full time _inside_ the Enclave," Myra concluded, before beginning her planned narrative.
By the time the two government women left the house arm in arm, chatting about something casual, the De Sotos were feeling guardedly good about the encounter and its implications. It had, after all, been a Forest Ranger who stuck his neck out so far as to signal approval of Miguel's arrow-borne messages.
This was a good sign in Eric's mind. Kim, too, understood how precious any sleep was to her profoundly world-weary mother-in-law, and went on cradling her in place as the daytime dinner was being served to others. But Alipang, before he would eat anything himself, stationed himself near his wife and hand-fed her where she reclined.
= = = = = = = = =
The prestige which the Wyoming Observer had earned in its half-year of existence had brought a practical benefit: the combined home and office of Miguel and Tilly De Soto had come to be exempted from the weekend cutoffs of outside electrical power. As a consequence, this home also had become a cold-weather shelter, and the De Sotos were expecting at least seven guests to arrive on Thanksgiving morning, which was when the power would be going off in most exile homes.
But the De Sotos were not expecting the three women who visited them on Wednesday afternoon.
First of these was to enter was Overseer Phosphorus Andrews, on duty and in her reflective uniform. "Since you did so well at wording your report when Citizen Spafford was first found," she told Miguel, "the Campaign Against Hate is furnishing you the content for a followup article. Someone who was a witness to the unauthorized abuse of Citizen Spafford, but who has herself been cleared of wrongdoing, will record a statement on your analog tape recorder, which you can adapt into an article. I'll give it the usual sedition check later." She then returned to her patrol--since NO ONE thought there was any danger of the De Sotos assaulting government officials if not kept at gunpoint.
Then the other two women came in. They were not only in civilian attire, but in high-fashion attire, as if they were on their way to or from a party. (Which was possible, since government personnel were not subject to any such austerity as was imposed on the "Biblicals.") These were Sector Agriculture Consultant Okokeso Vekeseha, looking better than most exiles ever saw her, and an attractive young woman completely unfamiliar to the journalist couple. This woman was in fact the very same Pinkshirt medic with whom Okokeso Vekeseha had taken cover from danger when Alipang Havens had been mopping up the infirmary room with the Overseers.
Ms. Vekeseha, the De Sotos knew. The younger woman exchanged a glance with her companion, received a nod, and introduced herself: "My name is Myra Brooks, and I'm a physician's assistant, originally with the Campaign Against Hate, now reassigned to the Agriculture Consultant's staff." (She did not look unhappy about the change of workplace.) "At the time Citizen Spafford was improperly sequestered, I was stationed at the infirmary to which he, and initially Citizen Galloway, were brought, Citizen Galloway soon being evacuated to Omaha. Kurt Langford deceived me and others about his real reason for treating Spafford as a criminal."
Tilly suddenly brightened up. "Oh! You were one of the Pinkshirt women who were trying to keep out of the way while Alipang Havens was making tofu out of those Overseers."
"Er, um, well, yes, you could put it that way. The Consultant here helped me keep under cover.... Anyway, since the bad conduct of Overseer Langford put a blot on the whole Campaign Against Hate, I asked to be allowed myself to tell your readers how his un-mutual actions were exposed, and how his expulsion from the Overseers was carried out."
Where is Langford now? asked Miguel in a scribbled note.
"In reprogramming, I'm told." (Myra Brooks believed this to be true; very few persons knew that Langford was dead.) "They're looking into the possibility that his jealousy was caused, or facilitated, by monogamistic influence from the Ku Klux Quakers."
No one could fail to see Miguel wince when that fabrication was mentioned. In a sympathetic voice, Ms. Vekeseha told him, "You don't have to report it as _fact_ that the Ku Klux Quakers caused it, only say that there was talk of this."
"And you'll also be able to report some good news deriving from the Spafford case," Myra resumed. "Because of the breach of regulations by an Overseer, the Department of Indoctrination has withdrawn its opposition to a proposal from Agriculture."
"A proposal which goes against monopoly of armed force," put in the Cheyenne woman.
"Armed Forest Rangers will henceforth be assigned full time _inside_ the Enclave," Myra concluded, before beginning her planned narrative.
By the time the two government women left the house arm in arm, chatting about something casual, the De Sotos were feeling guardedly good about the encounter and its implications. It had, after all, been a Forest Ranger who stuck his neck out so far as to signal approval of Miguel's arrow-borne messages.
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Copperfox
Well-known member
Thanksgiving Day with his parents and his youngest two siblings was another occasion for Alipang to be nostalgically reminded of the big parties they used to have in the old house on Liddell Street in Smoky Lake. Among the small army of guests at the Eric Havens residence in Casper were Bill and Lorraine Shao, John and Felicity Waddell, Pastor Zondei, the young ladies who had formerly played the trombone and clarinet at church...and the still-eccentric Frodo Von Spock. The sometime cult leader, however, was showing progress under the influence of Christian charity: he made it through the whole noon dinner _without_ once claiming that people should be thanking him instead of God.
There did not happen to be a turkey at this house this year; there _were_ some exile farmers raising turkeys, but a number of these fowl had been taken by foxes and lynx during the preceding weeks, leaving many homes turkeyless. Meat on the Havens table consisted of bear, venison...and two ducks, which Lorraine had succeeded in cooking Chinese style for Bill's benefit. The other predominant food items were mashed turnips, boiled chickweed (a wild ground plant whose nutritional merits Native Americans in the Enclave had made known to their less wilderness-wise neighbors), canned peas, canned cranberry jelly, oat and rye bread with butter, and apple pies. To drink there were several types of tea, plus apple cider.
After dessert was finished, Cecilia--sternly forbidden by her husband and both of her sons to do one more lick of housework for the rest of the day--latched onto Kim again while the menfolk were cleaning up. For nearly half an hour, the still-beautiful matriarch of the Havens clan sang songs five centimeters from Kim's belly, beaming at the thought of the unborn child learning to know Grandma's voice. And everyone else present who was paying any attention, silently raised fresh praise to God for the conspicuous boosting of Cecilia's morale.
Eric, in fact, was at some pains to hide from his wife the joyful tears in his eyes.
= = = = = = = = =
The Grange Hall west of Sussex did indeed host the whole Spafford family, Henry having been triumphantly led there on his horse Cochise just as planned. Also present were Purvis and Helen Kroll, since Purvis had had a hand in rescuing Henry.
The menu was similar to that of the Havens Thanksgiving dinner, except that in this case there _were_ turkeys. Not in the plan, but not a bad thing as it turned out, was the unannounced arrival of three women, a man and a border collie. The one man, and the woman who was clearly with him, wore the uniforms of Diversity States Forest Rangers, and the dog stayed near them. The other two women, keeping close to each other and a little apart from the Rangers, were wearing stylish civilian clothes, just like the civilian-attired pair who had visited the De Sotos. This was appropriate enough, because _this_ pair of women were the Agriculture Undersecretary, and the _other_ Pinkshirt medic, the one who had pretend-grappled with the Undersecretary during the rescue of Henry Spafford.
"Please don't mind us!" exclaimed the male Forest Ranger. "We just have a couple of things to announce that affect the Grange Association, then you can proceed with your celebration."
Lynne Wisebadger, one of the first to have taken notice of the newcomers, took a few steps toward them. "Considering what the honorable Agriculture Undersecretary did for our friend Henry, I'm sure I speak for everyone here when I say to all of you, please _join_ us for dinner!" Applause from behind her carried the motion.
The Undersecretary's smile was truly unforced; she seemed to be feeling exactly what she _ought_ to be feeling--an embarrassed gratitude that these exiles were being so friendly to her, when she still was a member of the triumvirate that held them in bondage, benign though her most recent actions had been. "Thank you, citizens..." She whispered something in the ear of her companion, who nodded strongly. "Very well, yes, we'll be happy to share this, uh, tradition with you. Just let me get the tedious business out of the way first."
She pointed to the two Rangers. "This man is Mark Terrell, who until this week was assigned to open-space duty just _outside_ the perimeter, on the Nebraska side. The woman with him will be remembered by some of you as Overseer Dana Pickering; but her request for transfer to the Forest Rangers was granted, and now she and Ranger Terrell, with Terrell's enhanced dog Whiplash, will be starting up the first Enclave station for their service, west of here.
"The woman beside me is the newest member of my personal staff, a physician's assistant. She can introduce herself from there."
"My name is Freda Weckerling," said the young woman. "I have a sister in the Marshals' Service, but I wanted to make my own trail. So I went to work for the Campaign Against Hate; but I never anticipated anything like the irregularities of which Kurt Langford was guilty, and I give you my word that I wasn't _aware_ of irregularities until I was deeply entangled in them by no desire of mine." She looked at the Undersecretary. "I'm _thankful_ to her today, for helping me to disassociate myself from that mess."
Now Freda walked closer to where Henry Spafford sat. "Citizen Spafford, I'm _really_ sorry that I was made to be part of mistreating you."
Henry nodded. "Miss Weckerling, I'm only an Apache second. First I'm a Christian, so I forgive you."
"Thank you." Freda's voice was tiny, and she soon retreated back to the Undersecretary's side; but the thanks sounded sincere, as had the apology.
Soon the new arrivals were seated and eating; and John Wisebadger plied the two Forest Rangers with questions about their plans for their Enclave posting. Whiplash, meanwhile, struck up a sniffing acquaintance with Gabe Ellison's Irish setter Clementine.
There did not happen to be a turkey at this house this year; there _were_ some exile farmers raising turkeys, but a number of these fowl had been taken by foxes and lynx during the preceding weeks, leaving many homes turkeyless. Meat on the Havens table consisted of bear, venison...and two ducks, which Lorraine had succeeded in cooking Chinese style for Bill's benefit. The other predominant food items were mashed turnips, boiled chickweed (a wild ground plant whose nutritional merits Native Americans in the Enclave had made known to their less wilderness-wise neighbors), canned peas, canned cranberry jelly, oat and rye bread with butter, and apple pies. To drink there were several types of tea, plus apple cider.
After dessert was finished, Cecilia--sternly forbidden by her husband and both of her sons to do one more lick of housework for the rest of the day--latched onto Kim again while the menfolk were cleaning up. For nearly half an hour, the still-beautiful matriarch of the Havens clan sang songs five centimeters from Kim's belly, beaming at the thought of the unborn child learning to know Grandma's voice. And everyone else present who was paying any attention, silently raised fresh praise to God for the conspicuous boosting of Cecilia's morale.
Eric, in fact, was at some pains to hide from his wife the joyful tears in his eyes.
= = = = = = = = =
The Grange Hall west of Sussex did indeed host the whole Spafford family, Henry having been triumphantly led there on his horse Cochise just as planned. Also present were Purvis and Helen Kroll, since Purvis had had a hand in rescuing Henry.
The menu was similar to that of the Havens Thanksgiving dinner, except that in this case there _were_ turkeys. Not in the plan, but not a bad thing as it turned out, was the unannounced arrival of three women, a man and a border collie. The one man, and the woman who was clearly with him, wore the uniforms of Diversity States Forest Rangers, and the dog stayed near them. The other two women, keeping close to each other and a little apart from the Rangers, were wearing stylish civilian clothes, just like the civilian-attired pair who had visited the De Sotos. This was appropriate enough, because _this_ pair of women were the Agriculture Undersecretary, and the _other_ Pinkshirt medic, the one who had pretend-grappled with the Undersecretary during the rescue of Henry Spafford.
"Please don't mind us!" exclaimed the male Forest Ranger. "We just have a couple of things to announce that affect the Grange Association, then you can proceed with your celebration."
Lynne Wisebadger, one of the first to have taken notice of the newcomers, took a few steps toward them. "Considering what the honorable Agriculture Undersecretary did for our friend Henry, I'm sure I speak for everyone here when I say to all of you, please _join_ us for dinner!" Applause from behind her carried the motion.
The Undersecretary's smile was truly unforced; she seemed to be feeling exactly what she _ought_ to be feeling--an embarrassed gratitude that these exiles were being so friendly to her, when she still was a member of the triumvirate that held them in bondage, benign though her most recent actions had been. "Thank you, citizens..." She whispered something in the ear of her companion, who nodded strongly. "Very well, yes, we'll be happy to share this, uh, tradition with you. Just let me get the tedious business out of the way first."
She pointed to the two Rangers. "This man is Mark Terrell, who until this week was assigned to open-space duty just _outside_ the perimeter, on the Nebraska side. The woman with him will be remembered by some of you as Overseer Dana Pickering; but her request for transfer to the Forest Rangers was granted, and now she and Ranger Terrell, with Terrell's enhanced dog Whiplash, will be starting up the first Enclave station for their service, west of here.
"The woman beside me is the newest member of my personal staff, a physician's assistant. She can introduce herself from there."
"My name is Freda Weckerling," said the young woman. "I have a sister in the Marshals' Service, but I wanted to make my own trail. So I went to work for the Campaign Against Hate; but I never anticipated anything like the irregularities of which Kurt Langford was guilty, and I give you my word that I wasn't _aware_ of irregularities until I was deeply entangled in them by no desire of mine." She looked at the Undersecretary. "I'm _thankful_ to her today, for helping me to disassociate myself from that mess."
Now Freda walked closer to where Henry Spafford sat. "Citizen Spafford, I'm _really_ sorry that I was made to be part of mistreating you."
Henry nodded. "Miss Weckerling, I'm only an Apache second. First I'm a Christian, so I forgive you."
"Thank you." Freda's voice was tiny, and she soon retreated back to the Undersecretary's side; but the thanks sounded sincere, as had the apology.
Soon the new arrivals were seated and eating; and John Wisebadger plied the two Forest Rangers with questions about their plans for their Enclave posting. Whiplash, meanwhile, struck up a sniffing acquaintance with Gabe Ellison's Irish setter Clementine.
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Copperfox
Well-known member
Getting everyone caught up again
This is a skimming of events in the _whole_ story. Not strictly _everything_ that has happened in this novel so far will be referenced--but enough that you should be able both to remember the multiple plotlines, and to find any scene you might want to revisit....
Page 67: We learn of the existence of the Chinese colony on the Moon, a sign of Greater China's supremacy.
Page 68: Dan and Chilena are seen doing "Revised Shakespeare;" Amish exile Ulrich Reinhart is rescued from a grizzly bear by Alipang and his Native American friends.
Page 70: We see the arrogance of the Enclave's Overseers; Alipang tells his son Wilson (who is named after Wilson Kramer) that he is worried about Ransom Kramer's anger at the murderers of his father and brother.
Page 71: We meet the African-born Pastor Abraham Zondei in Casper, Wyoming.
Page 73: The exiles' newspaper, "The Wyoming Observer," is in its planning stages; Texas Ranger Emilio Vasquez, husband of Alipang's sister Melody, is seen in action against aggressors from the People's Republic of Aztlan.
Page 75: Daffodil Ford, son of the self-absorbed, man-despising Ambassador Samantha Ford, is seen playing Equalityball in Boston.
Page 77: In Sussex, Alipang tells his friend Raoul that he's worried about the possible adulterous designs of the female Overseer Dana Pickering.
Page 78: In Georgetown, Delaware, Dan and Chilena's daughter Cecilia is harassed for not joining the Fairness Party's counterpart of the old Soviet Pioneers.
Page 80: Miguel De Soto, founder of "The Wyoming Observer," is diagnosed with Adenoid-Cystic Carcinoma--and the regime won't allow exiles to receive the most advanced cancer treatments.
Page 81: Alipang and Henry, in their capacity as paramedics, respond to the crash of the Overseers' chemtrail-spreading airplane, and are temporarily affected by the pacification vapors leaking out of it.
Page 82: Chinese Internal Security Major Yang Sung-Kuo, whose usual duty is at the United Nations in Beijing, is assigned to join Bert Randall's project of researching educational methods.
Page 83: In Beijing, Samantha is abandoned by her assistant Nalani Hahona.
Page 85: Widow Lorraine Kramer begins to take interest in Taiwanese-born technician Bill Shao; Miguel shoots his anti-regime messages over the perimeter fence of the Enclave.
Page 86: Summer Heron Rand, longtime pal of Alipang, is adjusting to the outside world after her release from one of the prisons absurdly called Self-Esteem Centers; it remains for her to find out where her husband and children are.
Page 87: The weirdo "Frodo Von Spock" is dumped in the Enclave by the Campaign Against Hate, merely to be an annoyance to the Christians.
Page 88: Daffodil's long-suppressed frustrations are triggered by an allergic reaction to the supposedly-harmless relaxing drink "Joy Nectar;" he goes into fits of hysterics.
Page 90: Visiting Rapid City, South Dakota (the Enclave capital), Alipang learns the sad history of fellow dentist Avery Glass, and declines the invitation to become an "Agriculture Ombudsman."
Page 92: Emilio joins the crew of one of the propellor-driven planes which have been equipped with up-to-date weapons as a means of giving the Diversity States some air defense despite their lack of jet fighters.
Page 93: Bert Randall tours the Diversity States with Major Yang, visits the hospitalized Daffy.
Page 95: Granted entry to the Enclave, Bert and Yang meet Ma'at Wazir and her children in Rapid City.
Page 96: Having been transferred outside the Enclave to "protect" her from the "danger" of being converted to Christianity, Dana meets Forest Ranger Mark Terrell (the man who found Miguel's messages and _didn't_ report them).
Page 98: Alipang and Kim's children get to show off to Bert and Yang how smart homeschooling has made them.
Page 100: The "Battle of Cincinnati" (between rival labor unions) is covertly exploited for his own gain by Supreme Court Chief Justice Sherman Lake, who has the Diversity States Marshals in his control.
Page 103: Reltseotu Smith, a lying establishment journalist, gets involved with slandering American expatriates in Nigeria (one of whom is Alipang's friend Brendan); in the Enclave, Bert spends time with Grange volunteers.
Page 104: Revealed to the reader as really a Chinese agent planted in the Enclave to watch things there, Japanese-American Peter Tomisaburo passes to Major Yang his information about Deputy Commander Dockerty.
Page 106: Brendan fights Communist guerrillas in Nigeria; Reltseotu plans to make the good guys in this incident look like racist villains.
Page 107: On board the Chinese-owned space-station hotel, Samantha and other female diplomats have a mixup over who does what.
Page 109: Bert finds himself the only hope of rescue for Ma'at, who is being kept in bondage by Dockerty (and who was already falling for Bert even before her family's conditions took the severe turn for the worse).
Page 110: Quaker surgeon Barney Jamison successfully implants the artificial breathing devices which will prolong Miguel's life.
Page 111: Bert persuades the Enclave administration to let him take Ma'at and her children with him as he leaves the Enclave; once in the clear, he marries Ma'at and takes his new family home to Australia.
Page 113: Daffodil, having heard how things went for Bert, wants to live in the Enclave or at least visit there (in part because there, unlike the Tolerance House, he might finally be allowed a romance with a girl).
Page 114: Injured in an accident while working in Uganda, Reltseotu is treated by Christian medical personnel, who implant a tracking device in her, so that the secret network of good guys can spy on her in case she meets with important evildoers.
Page 116: Vice-President Carlos Anselmo assists Daffodil in gaining access to the Enclave; in Sussex and Casper, Overseers bully churchgoers just to keep them in their place.
Page 118: Henry saves the life of the trampy Odette Galloway, then disappears; Lorraine is married to Bill Shao.
Page 119: The unnamed covert army of international good guys carries out "music raids" within the European Caliphate, giving signs of hope for liberation to all the non-Muslims being held in dhimmitude by Islamic fundamentalists.
Page 121: John Wisebadger, Bill Shao and Purvis Kroll all take part in finding out what happened to Henry.
All this brings us back to the most recent pages, in which Henry was rescued, Ransom and Lydia pursued their courtship, and Daffodil "got volunteered" to join in a heavy-handed propaganda project in the Enclave.
This is a skimming of events in the _whole_ story. Not strictly _everything_ that has happened in this novel so far will be referenced--but enough that you should be able both to remember the multiple plotlines, and to find any scene you might want to revisit....
Page 67: We learn of the existence of the Chinese colony on the Moon, a sign of Greater China's supremacy.
Page 68: Dan and Chilena are seen doing "Revised Shakespeare;" Amish exile Ulrich Reinhart is rescued from a grizzly bear by Alipang and his Native American friends.
Page 70: We see the arrogance of the Enclave's Overseers; Alipang tells his son Wilson (who is named after Wilson Kramer) that he is worried about Ransom Kramer's anger at the murderers of his father and brother.
Page 71: We meet the African-born Pastor Abraham Zondei in Casper, Wyoming.
Page 73: The exiles' newspaper, "The Wyoming Observer," is in its planning stages; Texas Ranger Emilio Vasquez, husband of Alipang's sister Melody, is seen in action against aggressors from the People's Republic of Aztlan.
Page 75: Daffodil Ford, son of the self-absorbed, man-despising Ambassador Samantha Ford, is seen playing Equalityball in Boston.
Page 77: In Sussex, Alipang tells his friend Raoul that he's worried about the possible adulterous designs of the female Overseer Dana Pickering.
Page 78: In Georgetown, Delaware, Dan and Chilena's daughter Cecilia is harassed for not joining the Fairness Party's counterpart of the old Soviet Pioneers.
Page 80: Miguel De Soto, founder of "The Wyoming Observer," is diagnosed with Adenoid-Cystic Carcinoma--and the regime won't allow exiles to receive the most advanced cancer treatments.
Page 81: Alipang and Henry, in their capacity as paramedics, respond to the crash of the Overseers' chemtrail-spreading airplane, and are temporarily affected by the pacification vapors leaking out of it.
Page 82: Chinese Internal Security Major Yang Sung-Kuo, whose usual duty is at the United Nations in Beijing, is assigned to join Bert Randall's project of researching educational methods.
Page 83: In Beijing, Samantha is abandoned by her assistant Nalani Hahona.
Page 85: Widow Lorraine Kramer begins to take interest in Taiwanese-born technician Bill Shao; Miguel shoots his anti-regime messages over the perimeter fence of the Enclave.
Page 86: Summer Heron Rand, longtime pal of Alipang, is adjusting to the outside world after her release from one of the prisons absurdly called Self-Esteem Centers; it remains for her to find out where her husband and children are.
Page 87: The weirdo "Frodo Von Spock" is dumped in the Enclave by the Campaign Against Hate, merely to be an annoyance to the Christians.
Page 88: Daffodil's long-suppressed frustrations are triggered by an allergic reaction to the supposedly-harmless relaxing drink "Joy Nectar;" he goes into fits of hysterics.
Page 90: Visiting Rapid City, South Dakota (the Enclave capital), Alipang learns the sad history of fellow dentist Avery Glass, and declines the invitation to become an "Agriculture Ombudsman."
Page 92: Emilio joins the crew of one of the propellor-driven planes which have been equipped with up-to-date weapons as a means of giving the Diversity States some air defense despite their lack of jet fighters.
Page 93: Bert Randall tours the Diversity States with Major Yang, visits the hospitalized Daffy.
Page 95: Granted entry to the Enclave, Bert and Yang meet Ma'at Wazir and her children in Rapid City.
Page 96: Having been transferred outside the Enclave to "protect" her from the "danger" of being converted to Christianity, Dana meets Forest Ranger Mark Terrell (the man who found Miguel's messages and _didn't_ report them).
Page 98: Alipang and Kim's children get to show off to Bert and Yang how smart homeschooling has made them.
Page 100: The "Battle of Cincinnati" (between rival labor unions) is covertly exploited for his own gain by Supreme Court Chief Justice Sherman Lake, who has the Diversity States Marshals in his control.
Page 103: Reltseotu Smith, a lying establishment journalist, gets involved with slandering American expatriates in Nigeria (one of whom is Alipang's friend Brendan); in the Enclave, Bert spends time with Grange volunteers.
Page 104: Revealed to the reader as really a Chinese agent planted in the Enclave to watch things there, Japanese-American Peter Tomisaburo passes to Major Yang his information about Deputy Commander Dockerty.
Page 106: Brendan fights Communist guerrillas in Nigeria; Reltseotu plans to make the good guys in this incident look like racist villains.
Page 107: On board the Chinese-owned space-station hotel, Samantha and other female diplomats have a mixup over who does what.
Page 109: Bert finds himself the only hope of rescue for Ma'at, who is being kept in bondage by Dockerty (and who was already falling for Bert even before her family's conditions took the severe turn for the worse).
Page 110: Quaker surgeon Barney Jamison successfully implants the artificial breathing devices which will prolong Miguel's life.
Page 111: Bert persuades the Enclave administration to let him take Ma'at and her children with him as he leaves the Enclave; once in the clear, he marries Ma'at and takes his new family home to Australia.
Page 113: Daffodil, having heard how things went for Bert, wants to live in the Enclave or at least visit there (in part because there, unlike the Tolerance House, he might finally be allowed a romance with a girl).
Page 114: Injured in an accident while working in Uganda, Reltseotu is treated by Christian medical personnel, who implant a tracking device in her, so that the secret network of good guys can spy on her in case she meets with important evildoers.
Page 116: Vice-President Carlos Anselmo assists Daffodil in gaining access to the Enclave; in Sussex and Casper, Overseers bully churchgoers just to keep them in their place.
Page 118: Henry saves the life of the trampy Odette Galloway, then disappears; Lorraine is married to Bill Shao.
Page 119: The unnamed covert army of international good guys carries out "music raids" within the European Caliphate, giving signs of hope for liberation to all the non-Muslims being held in dhimmitude by Islamic fundamentalists.
Page 121: John Wisebadger, Bill Shao and Purvis Kroll all take part in finding out what happened to Henry.
All this brings us back to the most recent pages, in which Henry was rescued, Ransom and Lydia pursued their courtship, and Daffodil "got volunteered" to join in a heavy-handed propaganda project in the Enclave.
Copperfox
Well-known member
Chapter 54: Black Friday Is White
One of the buildings at Natrona Airport outside of Casper had been converted into a guest lodge for government workers; and in his current theatrical capacity, Daffodil Ford was as much a government worker as Trip Conklin, Osmawani Jalil, and their supporting actors and crewmembers were. When their plane landed in the evening on Thanksgiving Day, everyone hurried to reach the invitingly lighted two-story structure. In fact, since Osmawani was fairly athletic and energetic, Daffodil actually welcomed her taking his hand for this run, because he was more tired than she, and her tugging at him helped him get across the pavement and out of the snow sooner. For it was snowing, and not vertically either. The wind was out of the north.
Although Daffodil still would have been just as happy to be left out of this project, by now he was not feeling so bad about it. The first performance being in Rapid City had meant that his first audience had contained many persons who were NOT "Biblicals," but affiliated with the Enclave administration as Osmawani was. They had been highly receptive--some of them, actually readers of Mr. Conklin's fiction; so they had been friendly spectators for Daffodil's unlikely heroics as Captain Vladimir Turgenev.
From the South Dakota Sector they had flown up to North Dakota: the only sector of the Enclave where they ended up doing TWO shows. This was a last-minute change, because the Campaign Against Hate had lately abused and terrorized so many North Dakota Christians while hunting for non-existent "Ku Klux Quakers," that now even the stupidest Overseers realized there would not be much sincere enthusiasm for "Churchbusters of the Galaxy." Accordingly, two small settlements had been identified in which there were an adequate number of unbelievers who were exiles only for political reasons, plus government workers. This gave Daffodil two more friendly audiences. He had privately felt nervous going next to the Nebraska Sector, for his first show in front of a majority-Christian crowd; but that audience had been polite if not ecstatic. None of them had wanted to be arrested just before Thanksgiving.
Conklin was less happy than Daffodil was. In the four presentations they had made so far, a grand total of eight Christian exiles had made any book purchases--and five of these had been motivated by threats of death to their families.
Daffodil had cause to be more upbeat as they came to Casper. The co-pilot of their plane had done him the favor of checking a database on surveillance of all exiles, and it had revealed that the exile dentist, Alipang Havens, was in Casper this weekend at his father's house. Thus Daffodil could hope to meet this colorful fellow even _before_ he was released from this Churchbusters charade. The boy did not let himself think so far ahead as the question of whether Alipang Havens would be eager to make friends with someone who had just gotten done calling all Christians depraved villains.
Closer at hand than Doctor Havens, even closer than Citizen Conklin, was a girl named Skydazzle--who was not so beautiful as her name seemed intended to suggest, but wasn't bad-looking either, and had the merit of being a teenager like Daffodil, fourteen years old, not an adult like Osmawani. During the tour to date, Skydazzle had not made any physical moves on Daffodil as Osmawani had; but since Osmawani's behavior was merely casual by her standards, the girl had no reason to fear any jealousy on the woman's part--and had been sending amorous signals at Daffodil since the day of the first show. As soon as the Malaysian sexpot let go of Daffodil's left hand inside the lodge building and turned her attention elsewhere, Skydazzle took hold of his right arm.
"There's a sitting room over there; let's talk awhile." Daffodil allowed himself to be led again, led to a sofa in a lounge with no one else in it.
Skyazzle was the daughter of an African-American holograph technician working on the show, and she herself was an actress of sorts--at least, now she was. At each location where they had performed, a group of children of government workers had been recruited for that place's performance, and Skydazzle had been their coach and leader. The children's role was to be terrified of the monstrous Christian mutants, so that Commodore Shang and Captain Turgenev could heroically protect them. Only Skydazzle, of the children, had to say anything more articulate than screaming, and she had only two lines in the show; but this was enough to give her the acting bug.
"Do you know anything about the exiles' newspaper here in Casper?" she asked Daffodil as soon as they sat down.
"I know that its founder is Hispanic, not white, so he can't be a racist," replied Daffodil, automatically parroting a bit of his indoctrination.
The girl smiled. "That's good to know. Do you think he'll interview me about the show?"
"I don't know; he might. After all, this show is of great social significance. The work of Trip Conklin has been invaluable to the Department of Indoctrination; you can see the messages of collective oneness all through his novels. For instance, did you realize that Commodore Shang is named Shang in honor of Supreme Court Justice Wanda Shang?"
Skydazzle blinked. "I never thought of that. But yeah, I remember now from school: back before the Fairness Party liberated America, while she was a federal circuit judge or something, Justice Shang had a lot to do with removing all Christian hate programming from TV and radio. So you're right, that does show how important this show is to the collective. And YOU are such a _perfect_ Vladimir Turgenev; I hope I get to act with you again sometime..."
While she spoke, Skydazzle had been gradually crowding in closer to Daffodil. Daffodil did not consciously take notice of this (for after weathering Osmawani's attentions, he was becoming less paranoid about being touched by females) until, after the word "sometime," the younger girl insistently pulled him into a kiss, her mouth capturing his.
Daffodil didn't know how to kiss back; this was something he had not been about to ask Osmawani to train him in. But Skydazzle, who apparently had never had to go through a Tolerance House curriculum, knew what she was doing, and she did pretty well at making him understand how it worked.
One of the buildings at Natrona Airport outside of Casper had been converted into a guest lodge for government workers; and in his current theatrical capacity, Daffodil Ford was as much a government worker as Trip Conklin, Osmawani Jalil, and their supporting actors and crewmembers were. When their plane landed in the evening on Thanksgiving Day, everyone hurried to reach the invitingly lighted two-story structure. In fact, since Osmawani was fairly athletic and energetic, Daffodil actually welcomed her taking his hand for this run, because he was more tired than she, and her tugging at him helped him get across the pavement and out of the snow sooner. For it was snowing, and not vertically either. The wind was out of the north.
Although Daffodil still would have been just as happy to be left out of this project, by now he was not feeling so bad about it. The first performance being in Rapid City had meant that his first audience had contained many persons who were NOT "Biblicals," but affiliated with the Enclave administration as Osmawani was. They had been highly receptive--some of them, actually readers of Mr. Conklin's fiction; so they had been friendly spectators for Daffodil's unlikely heroics as Captain Vladimir Turgenev.
From the South Dakota Sector they had flown up to North Dakota: the only sector of the Enclave where they ended up doing TWO shows. This was a last-minute change, because the Campaign Against Hate had lately abused and terrorized so many North Dakota Christians while hunting for non-existent "Ku Klux Quakers," that now even the stupidest Overseers realized there would not be much sincere enthusiasm for "Churchbusters of the Galaxy." Accordingly, two small settlements had been identified in which there were an adequate number of unbelievers who were exiles only for political reasons, plus government workers. This gave Daffodil two more friendly audiences. He had privately felt nervous going next to the Nebraska Sector, for his first show in front of a majority-Christian crowd; but that audience had been polite if not ecstatic. None of them had wanted to be arrested just before Thanksgiving.
Conklin was less happy than Daffodil was. In the four presentations they had made so far, a grand total of eight Christian exiles had made any book purchases--and five of these had been motivated by threats of death to their families.
Daffodil had cause to be more upbeat as they came to Casper. The co-pilot of their plane had done him the favor of checking a database on surveillance of all exiles, and it had revealed that the exile dentist, Alipang Havens, was in Casper this weekend at his father's house. Thus Daffodil could hope to meet this colorful fellow even _before_ he was released from this Churchbusters charade. The boy did not let himself think so far ahead as the question of whether Alipang Havens would be eager to make friends with someone who had just gotten done calling all Christians depraved villains.
Closer at hand than Doctor Havens, even closer than Citizen Conklin, was a girl named Skydazzle--who was not so beautiful as her name seemed intended to suggest, but wasn't bad-looking either, and had the merit of being a teenager like Daffodil, fourteen years old, not an adult like Osmawani. During the tour to date, Skydazzle had not made any physical moves on Daffodil as Osmawani had; but since Osmawani's behavior was merely casual by her standards, the girl had no reason to fear any jealousy on the woman's part--and had been sending amorous signals at Daffodil since the day of the first show. As soon as the Malaysian sexpot let go of Daffodil's left hand inside the lodge building and turned her attention elsewhere, Skydazzle took hold of his right arm.
"There's a sitting room over there; let's talk awhile." Daffodil allowed himself to be led again, led to a sofa in a lounge with no one else in it.
Skyazzle was the daughter of an African-American holograph technician working on the show, and she herself was an actress of sorts--at least, now she was. At each location where they had performed, a group of children of government workers had been recruited for that place's performance, and Skydazzle had been their coach and leader. The children's role was to be terrified of the monstrous Christian mutants, so that Commodore Shang and Captain Turgenev could heroically protect them. Only Skydazzle, of the children, had to say anything more articulate than screaming, and she had only two lines in the show; but this was enough to give her the acting bug.
"Do you know anything about the exiles' newspaper here in Casper?" she asked Daffodil as soon as they sat down.
"I know that its founder is Hispanic, not white, so he can't be a racist," replied Daffodil, automatically parroting a bit of his indoctrination.
The girl smiled. "That's good to know. Do you think he'll interview me about the show?"
"I don't know; he might. After all, this show is of great social significance. The work of Trip Conklin has been invaluable to the Department of Indoctrination; you can see the messages of collective oneness all through his novels. For instance, did you realize that Commodore Shang is named Shang in honor of Supreme Court Justice Wanda Shang?"
Skydazzle blinked. "I never thought of that. But yeah, I remember now from school: back before the Fairness Party liberated America, while she was a federal circuit judge or something, Justice Shang had a lot to do with removing all Christian hate programming from TV and radio. So you're right, that does show how important this show is to the collective. And YOU are such a _perfect_ Vladimir Turgenev; I hope I get to act with you again sometime..."
While she spoke, Skydazzle had been gradually crowding in closer to Daffodil. Daffodil did not consciously take notice of this (for after weathering Osmawani's attentions, he was becoming less paranoid about being touched by females) until, after the word "sometime," the younger girl insistently pulled him into a kiss, her mouth capturing his.
Daffodil didn't know how to kiss back; this was something he had not been about to ask Osmawani to train him in. But Skydazzle, who apparently had never had to go through a Tolerance House curriculum, knew what she was doing, and she did pretty well at making him understand how it worked.
Copperfox
Well-known member
That night, in a spare upstairs room in Eric and Cecilia's house, an exercise in compact sleeping took place. The room's usual furnishings were piled up against the wall that had a window. The only actual bed to be seen was a narrow cot, reserved for Kim as the only pregnant person spending the night. She and her cot formed a continental divide of the genders.
On the floor to one side of Kim, the side with less space before the wall, was a large air-mattress which had been provided by one of the couples temporarily guesting due to no heat at their own houses. Lying shoulder to shoulder under bearskin and sheepskin rugs on that air mattress were Harmony Havens, her niece and Kim's daughter Esperanza Havens, and a girl about Esperanza's age named Cleo, whose parents were the suppliers of the air mattress. On the other side of Kim's cot were able-bodied males, using what little bedding was available after providing for less hardy persons among the house's weekend population, and going to sleep in all their clothes to make up the difference. Alipang was closest to Kim on this side; then came Terrance, Wilson, Brendan, and Cleo's big brother Franklin.
After they had all prayed together, Alipang's goodnight to Kim consisted in part of whispering to her, "If I get up and leave before sunrise, don't be alarmed; I just have this feeling that I'm _supposed_ to look around early in the morning."
"All right," Kim whispered back, leaning toward him enough that they could manage something of a kiss. "Your hunches have paid off before."
"Don't leave me out of this," Terrance hissed. "I get so few chances to go play with my big brother."
"Or me with my Uncle Terrance!" added Wilson. "I want to come too, Papa, so wake us up."
"Just don't step on me when you get up," requested Franklin drowsily.
"No worries," Wilson told him. "When we get up, we'll aim toward our own feet." This was enough discussion before sleeping.
Alipang awoke almost an hour before dawn. Getting on his own feet in just the way Wilson had meant, avoiding any danger of stepping on other sleepers in the row of bodies, he tapped on the feet of his younger brother and his elder son. Soon all three were donning their winter garments--in Alipang's case, almost as much extra clothing as the other two combined. After all these years in America, he still hated cold weather. But he did have his premonition to follow: not of deadly peril to anyone, but of having some kind of job to do. The three Havens men crept downstairs, avoiding the living room because there were two married couples asleep in there. Passing through the kitchen, they paused in the mudroom which preceded the back door of the house--a handy thing for a house to have, in the conditions under which exiles now lived.
"Since I don't know yet _what_ form our little adventure is going to take," whispered Alipang to the others, "we may as well make this expedition useful in a mundane way. Wilson, bring that broom along; Terrance, you and I will carry the two snow shovels--and you will identify for us houses whose occupants are still in them this weekend. That is, where smoke out of chimneys doesn't make it obvious."
"So we're going to clear people's walks?" Wilson inferred.
"Right, son: making something useful for the neighborhood out of our blind search for an unspecified providential event."
"Besides," Terrance observed, "if we're _doing_ something obviously legitimate outdoors, any Overseers we might meet are less likely to say we're up to something suspicious."
"As for that," said Alipang, "have you even _seen_ any Overseers on the streets in the past twenty-four hours?"
Now that Alipang mentioned it, neither Terrance nor Wilson had seen any. Then out the back door they went, into an icy breeze that struck them like a physical blow.
On the floor to one side of Kim, the side with less space before the wall, was a large air-mattress which had been provided by one of the couples temporarily guesting due to no heat at their own houses. Lying shoulder to shoulder under bearskin and sheepskin rugs on that air mattress were Harmony Havens, her niece and Kim's daughter Esperanza Havens, and a girl about Esperanza's age named Cleo, whose parents were the suppliers of the air mattress. On the other side of Kim's cot were able-bodied males, using what little bedding was available after providing for less hardy persons among the house's weekend population, and going to sleep in all their clothes to make up the difference. Alipang was closest to Kim on this side; then came Terrance, Wilson, Brendan, and Cleo's big brother Franklin.
After they had all prayed together, Alipang's goodnight to Kim consisted in part of whispering to her, "If I get up and leave before sunrise, don't be alarmed; I just have this feeling that I'm _supposed_ to look around early in the morning."
"All right," Kim whispered back, leaning toward him enough that they could manage something of a kiss. "Your hunches have paid off before."
"Don't leave me out of this," Terrance hissed. "I get so few chances to go play with my big brother."
"Or me with my Uncle Terrance!" added Wilson. "I want to come too, Papa, so wake us up."
"Just don't step on me when you get up," requested Franklin drowsily.
"No worries," Wilson told him. "When we get up, we'll aim toward our own feet." This was enough discussion before sleeping.
Alipang awoke almost an hour before dawn. Getting on his own feet in just the way Wilson had meant, avoiding any danger of stepping on other sleepers in the row of bodies, he tapped on the feet of his younger brother and his elder son. Soon all three were donning their winter garments--in Alipang's case, almost as much extra clothing as the other two combined. After all these years in America, he still hated cold weather. But he did have his premonition to follow: not of deadly peril to anyone, but of having some kind of job to do. The three Havens men crept downstairs, avoiding the living room because there were two married couples asleep in there. Passing through the kitchen, they paused in the mudroom which preceded the back door of the house--a handy thing for a house to have, in the conditions under which exiles now lived.
"Since I don't know yet _what_ form our little adventure is going to take," whispered Alipang to the others, "we may as well make this expedition useful in a mundane way. Wilson, bring that broom along; Terrance, you and I will carry the two snow shovels--and you will identify for us houses whose occupants are still in them this weekend. That is, where smoke out of chimneys doesn't make it obvious."
"So we're going to clear people's walks?" Wilson inferred.
"Right, son: making something useful for the neighborhood out of our blind search for an unspecified providential event."
"Besides," Terrance observed, "if we're _doing_ something obviously legitimate outdoors, any Overseers we might meet are less likely to say we're up to something suspicious."
"As for that," said Alipang, "have you even _seen_ any Overseers on the streets in the past twenty-four hours?"
Now that Alipang mentioned it, neither Terrance nor Wilson had seen any. Then out the back door they went, into an icy breeze that struck them like a physical blow.
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Copperfox
Well-known member
The streets within view being deserted and still, the three kinsmen quietly set about clearing away snow from in front of the nearest currently-occupied houses. The waxing moon had already set, and there was no artificial lighting nearer to them than the few security lights around the Merchandising Center many blocks away, which was where they had heard that some public attraction would occur after sunrise; but with clouds departed, the omnipresent snow reflected the bright starlight, and with caution they could see what they were doing.
As they started on the fourth property, Wilson asked his father, "Any further word from the Lord yet, Papa?" There was no sarcasm in the boy's words; if his Papa said God had given him a premonition, then that was what God had done.
"Not yet, son. But since nothing's happening here, let's go around that corner, and work on house fronts that are facing into the wind. They're bound to have plenty of snow to remove, maybe even obstructing their front doors." So the self-appointed snow-removal team changed locations.
They had finished servicing six houses on this block, when they heard a mechanical sound, not much louder than the electric motorcycles of the strangely-absent Overseers. They had heard it a few times in the past, and all remembered it. Government personnel had a few up-to-date snowmobiles in their motor pool. And sure enough, that was what was coming, from the direction of the city center.
Driving the vehicle, a large-sized model, was a man in the winter uniform of the Transport Police; holding on behind him was an older man whom Terrance, as a full-time resident of Casper, soon recognized. "Al, I bet that's our destined encounter," said Terrance, and stepped into the street--not foolishly right in the snowmobile's path, but close enough to it that the two men on it would not fail to notice when he waved to hail them. His brother and nephew came up behind him as the snowmobile slowed to a halt. Quickly, Terrance told them, "That passenger is an Energy Department office worker;" then he turned back to address this man.
"Citizen Musgrave! Is there any emergency?"
The bureaucrat Musgrave spoke something into the policeman's ear, then dismounted from the snowmobile and approached Terrance. "Citizen Havens, is it?"
Terrance gestured to his companions. "That title applies to all of us. This is my big brother--" (though Terrance was half a head taller than Alipang) "--and this is his son. As I was saying, is there something happening that we should know about?"
"Not any physical catastrophe, but an embarrassment for my department. You may be aware that there is to be a public entertainment this morning, in front of the Merchandising Center, in what used to be the parking lot. But we can't get it cleared of snow in time; our snowplow has broken down, and the mechanics' union refuses to let any mechanics repair it on a holiday weekend."
"Even though the union leadership doesn't believe in any religious holidays?" Wilson blurted out.
A muffled laugh came from behind the Transport Police officer's helmet visor, growing more audible when he raised that visor to reveal a face which none of the three exiles had ever seen. Grinning at Wilson, he replied, "But the labor bosses DO believe in giving lots of days off! Meanwhile, we're stuck. I'm Sergeant Pasquale. Citizen Musgrave and I were hoping to find someone who had some means of helping to clear snow."
Musgrave caught Terrance's eye. "Like the Ralston family, with that big draft horse of theirs?"
"I know them," Terrance confirmed. "If I accompany you there, I think they'll agree to let us bring Shaggy up to the Merchandising Center, and hitch him to whatever can best be used as a horse-drawn snowplow. Shaggy knows me; he'll allow me to handle him."
"I have a further offer to make," said Alipang to Sergeant Pasquale. "Since this event is supposed to be of interest to the community--and since your snowmobile looks big enough to take two passengers in a pinch--let my son and me come back to the center with you, while my brother and Citizen Musgrave see to borrowing the horse. As you can see, we were digging away snow for the neighbors; we can just as easily dig some at that parking lot, clearing a starting space where the draft horse can be hitched to whatever he's going to pull. What do you say?"
Pasquale answered a question with a question: "Aren't you one of the Grange volunteers from the Powder River area? The Filipino dentist?"
"Yes, that's me. Does it make a difference to my offer of help?"
Pasquale grinned again. "Only on the favorable side. Hop on, you and your--bioproduct." His face declared that he, like Alipang, considered that term ridiculous. "Bring that broom and both shovels. I'll pitch in and help you dig when we get there."
So Terrance led Mr. Musgrave to the address of Shaggy's owners, and the other two rode with the policeman. As they went, Alipang, who was closer to their driver, shouted into his helmet, "Not that I object to friendly treatment, but what is it that makes me special to you?"
Pasquale slowed down the snowmobile; it was quiet enough that one could be heard speaking even when moving faster, but slowing down made it less risky for him to look over his shoulder when answering Alipang. "For one thing, since the Overseers are preoccupied with some kind of in-house investigation of misconduct, more of us Transport cops have been brought in as gapfillers, and since I'm new here, I'm trying to get acquainted with the most prominent exiles. For another thing....let's just say that we Transport cops don't shed any tears when certain parties who have too much self-esteem get some of it knocked out of them."
Alipang's eyes widened. So other law-enforcement bodies were hearing about how he had embarrassed the Overseers! He thought back to the effort to persuade exile churches to preach about evildoers having disputes among themselves. Many churches had in fact used that subject for sermons, and the discord between the Campaign Against Hate and the other two triumvirate departments, over the matter of Henry Spafford, had looked like a fulfillment of this theme.
Now it was looking even more fulfilled.
As they started on the fourth property, Wilson asked his father, "Any further word from the Lord yet, Papa?" There was no sarcasm in the boy's words; if his Papa said God had given him a premonition, then that was what God had done.
"Not yet, son. But since nothing's happening here, let's go around that corner, and work on house fronts that are facing into the wind. They're bound to have plenty of snow to remove, maybe even obstructing their front doors." So the self-appointed snow-removal team changed locations.
They had finished servicing six houses on this block, when they heard a mechanical sound, not much louder than the electric motorcycles of the strangely-absent Overseers. They had heard it a few times in the past, and all remembered it. Government personnel had a few up-to-date snowmobiles in their motor pool. And sure enough, that was what was coming, from the direction of the city center.
Driving the vehicle, a large-sized model, was a man in the winter uniform of the Transport Police; holding on behind him was an older man whom Terrance, as a full-time resident of Casper, soon recognized. "Al, I bet that's our destined encounter," said Terrance, and stepped into the street--not foolishly right in the snowmobile's path, but close enough to it that the two men on it would not fail to notice when he waved to hail them. His brother and nephew came up behind him as the snowmobile slowed to a halt. Quickly, Terrance told them, "That passenger is an Energy Department office worker;" then he turned back to address this man.
"Citizen Musgrave! Is there any emergency?"
The bureaucrat Musgrave spoke something into the policeman's ear, then dismounted from the snowmobile and approached Terrance. "Citizen Havens, is it?"
Terrance gestured to his companions. "That title applies to all of us. This is my big brother--" (though Terrance was half a head taller than Alipang) "--and this is his son. As I was saying, is there something happening that we should know about?"
"Not any physical catastrophe, but an embarrassment for my department. You may be aware that there is to be a public entertainment this morning, in front of the Merchandising Center, in what used to be the parking lot. But we can't get it cleared of snow in time; our snowplow has broken down, and the mechanics' union refuses to let any mechanics repair it on a holiday weekend."
"Even though the union leadership doesn't believe in any religious holidays?" Wilson blurted out.
A muffled laugh came from behind the Transport Police officer's helmet visor, growing more audible when he raised that visor to reveal a face which none of the three exiles had ever seen. Grinning at Wilson, he replied, "But the labor bosses DO believe in giving lots of days off! Meanwhile, we're stuck. I'm Sergeant Pasquale. Citizen Musgrave and I were hoping to find someone who had some means of helping to clear snow."
Musgrave caught Terrance's eye. "Like the Ralston family, with that big draft horse of theirs?"
"I know them," Terrance confirmed. "If I accompany you there, I think they'll agree to let us bring Shaggy up to the Merchandising Center, and hitch him to whatever can best be used as a horse-drawn snowplow. Shaggy knows me; he'll allow me to handle him."
"I have a further offer to make," said Alipang to Sergeant Pasquale. "Since this event is supposed to be of interest to the community--and since your snowmobile looks big enough to take two passengers in a pinch--let my son and me come back to the center with you, while my brother and Citizen Musgrave see to borrowing the horse. As you can see, we were digging away snow for the neighbors; we can just as easily dig some at that parking lot, clearing a starting space where the draft horse can be hitched to whatever he's going to pull. What do you say?"
Pasquale answered a question with a question: "Aren't you one of the Grange volunteers from the Powder River area? The Filipino dentist?"
"Yes, that's me. Does it make a difference to my offer of help?"
Pasquale grinned again. "Only on the favorable side. Hop on, you and your--bioproduct." His face declared that he, like Alipang, considered that term ridiculous. "Bring that broom and both shovels. I'll pitch in and help you dig when we get there."
So Terrance led Mr. Musgrave to the address of Shaggy's owners, and the other two rode with the policeman. As they went, Alipang, who was closer to their driver, shouted into his helmet, "Not that I object to friendly treatment, but what is it that makes me special to you?"
Pasquale slowed down the snowmobile; it was quiet enough that one could be heard speaking even when moving faster, but slowing down made it less risky for him to look over his shoulder when answering Alipang. "For one thing, since the Overseers are preoccupied with some kind of in-house investigation of misconduct, more of us Transport cops have been brought in as gapfillers, and since I'm new here, I'm trying to get acquainted with the most prominent exiles. For another thing....let's just say that we Transport cops don't shed any tears when certain parties who have too much self-esteem get some of it knocked out of them."
Alipang's eyes widened. So other law-enforcement bodies were hearing about how he had embarrassed the Overseers! He thought back to the effort to persuade exile churches to preach about evildoers having disputes among themselves. Many churches had in fact used that subject for sermons, and the discord between the Campaign Against Hate and the other two triumvirate departments, over the matter of Henry Spafford, had looked like a fulfillment of this theme.
Now it was looking even more fulfilled.
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