The First Love Of Alipang Havens
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Copperfox
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Page 65: Gruelling Yuletide, Continued
When Henry Spafford left the Stepanova house and clinic--which he did not do until he was satisfied that with Dorcas Hanley's help, Irina had everything well in hand--he still was on his vision quest, but was not certain that he had not already finished it. After all, saving that elderly couple from freezing had been a worthy deed; their neighbors would soon be fetching them home, happy ending there. And Henry had been able to assist Irina with patient care, then to join Alipang in bearing witness for the Lord Jesus to that strange outside boy. (For selfish pleasure, he had taken a bath and washed his underwear while at the clinic.) So if he beat it back home now, he had already seen proof that, like George Bailey in that old movie, his life WAS counting for something. And he had enjoyed good Bible study along the way, both by himself and with the others at the clinic.
But he still felt there was more to be found. So he did not start for home; instead, after buying a jar of sauerkraut and a loaf of bread from a nearby farm household, he headed farther west, following the same railroad tracks through the Big Horn that the Hanleys had followed in the other direction. It was the same railroad line which the scholar Bert Randall had ridden east for Sussex after spending time with Henry and Gabe in and around the Greybull Valley.
Henry racked up two more outdoor overnights enroute, adding to his progress in re-hardening himself to wilderness conditions. He would have needed only one overnight stop on this leg of his journey, had it not taken him five hours to catch two fish in a half-frozen creek; but fishing still was his handiest way of catching protein, as he still didn't have a bow to shoot game. The same lack of a shooting weapon made him extra careful about selecting defensible places for his overnight campsites; he could kill one wolf with a throw of his axe, and another wolf with a lunge of his new spear, but if wolves came upon him there would probably be more than two of them. And contrary to the fancies of dewy-eyed nature-lovers, it was not _absolutely_ unknown for wolves to attack people.
At last, on a sharply frosted Wednesday, the Worland train station came in sight; this was close to the former site of a truckstop, dating back of course to when citizens had been allowed to own trucks. The young Apache was not planning necessarily to ride a train anyplace; but he had in mind that God might have in mind for him to meet someone coming OFF a train.
Finding nothing of interest going on at first, Henry availed himself of some warmth by going inside the passengers' waiting room. Two fortyish women were there, but their presence did not leap forth as a sign of anything; they were fellow Grange volunteers whom Henry had met before, indoor workers like his friend Soledad. Learning that they had not eaten anything lately, and in view of the fact that neither of the Enclave's two food-service companies had an operation in this building, the huntsman shared the remainder of his bread and sauerkraut with them, while trading news of no great urgency. It was a nice bit of fellowship for all three, but nothing of obvious relevance to Henry's vision quest.
They had fallen silent again--in fact, Henry was liable to fall asleep in his chair, from being in warmer air than he had felt in two days--when he heard two new voices, one female and one male. Henry's ears were keen enough that not only was he hearing people speak from outside through a closed door of insulating glass; he _recognized_ both voices, though one of them had only ever come to his ears before through a telephone.
In the instant before the newcomers entered the small station building, Henry formed his plan, telling himself: Don't say anything to the Grange ladies; this is highly unlikely to affect them at all, unless you _cause_ it to affect them by making a scene yourself in their presence. Go ahead and act as if you _have_ drifted off to sleep, and let your head sag down in such a way as to keep your face as much out of sight as possible. You're not the only Indian in the Enclave, not even the only Indian who rides for the Grange; so unless they're already deliberately looking for you, which seems unlikely, they won't _assume_ every guy with long black hair to be Henry Spafford. And since it's _extremely_ unlikely that they've bothered to make a special study of all your movements through satellite imagery and other means, they probably won't realize that you made a spear for yourself; so your having that as a hunting weapon instead of a bow should serve to disguise you--helped by the fact that you _don't_ have a horse hitched outside. When they come in, assuming they do come in, just listen to them, and maybe they'll give away something worth knowing.
The two persons for whom Henry had gone on the alert now opened the door and entered the waiting room. The female voice belonged to Halberd Meteor, the erstwhile First-Class Overseer who had been busted for her part in abusing Henry. The male voice belonged to the man at the power station, the one who had scoffed and cursed when Henry had tried to get him to summon aid for the injured Odette Galloway. This man, also reportedly disgraced and demoted, was Ralph Durgan.
At the moment of entering, Halberd Meteor was finishing a sentence with the words, "--the one due north of the next stop." Ralph Durgan replied to her: "That's one of the more important ones." She then said, "That's true; but we'll talk more about it later."
If Henry's two enemies realized who the slumped figure near them was, they showed no sign of it that his ears could notice. But for all of his careful inconspicuousness, Ms. Meteor and Mr. Durgan did not say anything else of interest in his hearing for the whole time they were in the room.
When Henry Spafford left the Stepanova house and clinic--which he did not do until he was satisfied that with Dorcas Hanley's help, Irina had everything well in hand--he still was on his vision quest, but was not certain that he had not already finished it. After all, saving that elderly couple from freezing had been a worthy deed; their neighbors would soon be fetching them home, happy ending there. And Henry had been able to assist Irina with patient care, then to join Alipang in bearing witness for the Lord Jesus to that strange outside boy. (For selfish pleasure, he had taken a bath and washed his underwear while at the clinic.) So if he beat it back home now, he had already seen proof that, like George Bailey in that old movie, his life WAS counting for something. And he had enjoyed good Bible study along the way, both by himself and with the others at the clinic.
But he still felt there was more to be found. So he did not start for home; instead, after buying a jar of sauerkraut and a loaf of bread from a nearby farm household, he headed farther west, following the same railroad tracks through the Big Horn that the Hanleys had followed in the other direction. It was the same railroad line which the scholar Bert Randall had ridden east for Sussex after spending time with Henry and Gabe in and around the Greybull Valley.
Henry racked up two more outdoor overnights enroute, adding to his progress in re-hardening himself to wilderness conditions. He would have needed only one overnight stop on this leg of his journey, had it not taken him five hours to catch two fish in a half-frozen creek; but fishing still was his handiest way of catching protein, as he still didn't have a bow to shoot game. The same lack of a shooting weapon made him extra careful about selecting defensible places for his overnight campsites; he could kill one wolf with a throw of his axe, and another wolf with a lunge of his new spear, but if wolves came upon him there would probably be more than two of them. And contrary to the fancies of dewy-eyed nature-lovers, it was not _absolutely_ unknown for wolves to attack people.
At last, on a sharply frosted Wednesday, the Worland train station came in sight; this was close to the former site of a truckstop, dating back of course to when citizens had been allowed to own trucks. The young Apache was not planning necessarily to ride a train anyplace; but he had in mind that God might have in mind for him to meet someone coming OFF a train.
Finding nothing of interest going on at first, Henry availed himself of some warmth by going inside the passengers' waiting room. Two fortyish women were there, but their presence did not leap forth as a sign of anything; they were fellow Grange volunteers whom Henry had met before, indoor workers like his friend Soledad. Learning that they had not eaten anything lately, and in view of the fact that neither of the Enclave's two food-service companies had an operation in this building, the huntsman shared the remainder of his bread and sauerkraut with them, while trading news of no great urgency. It was a nice bit of fellowship for all three, but nothing of obvious relevance to Henry's vision quest.
They had fallen silent again--in fact, Henry was liable to fall asleep in his chair, from being in warmer air than he had felt in two days--when he heard two new voices, one female and one male. Henry's ears were keen enough that not only was he hearing people speak from outside through a closed door of insulating glass; he _recognized_ both voices, though one of them had only ever come to his ears before through a telephone.
In the instant before the newcomers entered the small station building, Henry formed his plan, telling himself: Don't say anything to the Grange ladies; this is highly unlikely to affect them at all, unless you _cause_ it to affect them by making a scene yourself in their presence. Go ahead and act as if you _have_ drifted off to sleep, and let your head sag down in such a way as to keep your face as much out of sight as possible. You're not the only Indian in the Enclave, not even the only Indian who rides for the Grange; so unless they're already deliberately looking for you, which seems unlikely, they won't _assume_ every guy with long black hair to be Henry Spafford. And since it's _extremely_ unlikely that they've bothered to make a special study of all your movements through satellite imagery and other means, they probably won't realize that you made a spear for yourself; so your having that as a hunting weapon instead of a bow should serve to disguise you--helped by the fact that you _don't_ have a horse hitched outside. When they come in, assuming they do come in, just listen to them, and maybe they'll give away something worth knowing.
The two persons for whom Henry had gone on the alert now opened the door and entered the waiting room. The female voice belonged to Halberd Meteor, the erstwhile First-Class Overseer who had been busted for her part in abusing Henry. The male voice belonged to the man at the power station, the one who had scoffed and cursed when Henry had tried to get him to summon aid for the injured Odette Galloway. This man, also reportedly disgraced and demoted, was Ralph Durgan.
At the moment of entering, Halberd Meteor was finishing a sentence with the words, "--the one due north of the next stop." Ralph Durgan replied to her: "That's one of the more important ones." She then said, "That's true; but we'll talk more about it later."
If Henry's two enemies realized who the slumped figure near them was, they showed no sign of it that his ears could notice. But for all of his careful inconspicuousness, Ms. Meteor and Mr. Durgan did not say anything else of interest in his hearing for the whole time they were in the room.
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Copperfox
Well-known member
A west-bound train was announced, and not only the two government employees, but also the two Grange ladies rose from their seats and went out the door to board it. Henry's pretense of sleep spared him from having them say aloud, "Goodbye, HENRY;" he hoped that they also would NOT mention him in the hearing of the two scoundrels during their train ride. He did venture a surreptitious peek out a window after they were all out on the platform; this let him see Ralph Durgan's face at last, and also showed him that Halberd Meteor no longer wore the reflective-armor bodysuit of an Overseer.
So they're interested in something of importance which is north of the next station WEST of here, the Apache pondered. Since Mr. Durgan is an electrical-power technician, it probably bears a relation to the Enclave's power grid. And where we are now is already at a high enough latitude that it isn't very much farther to the northern BORDER of the Wyoming Sector; so their object of interest could also be some part of the connections by which power generated IN the Enclave is passed along to the rest of the country. I wonder if it would do any good for me to tell the Energy Undersecretary about this? Of course, if it's all innocent, she might think I was being silly, or even that I was trying spitefully to make trouble for those two jerks who've already been disciplined. I guess I'll hold off telling any authority figures about this; but SOMEONE ought to know. Is my vision quest turning into a detective story?
He spent some time silently praying for guidance, there where he sat. Then he fished his borrowed Bible out of his backpack, and opened it at random. This brought him to the Book of Esther, where Esther delayed exposing the schemes of Haman until the most opportune time for dropping the bombshell. All right, is this only meant to confirm that I should wait for the right time to tell what I've heard? Or does it also mean that someone is planning to do to us what Haman planned to do to the Jews? No further answer was forthcoming for Henry at that time.
But it was ironic for him to cross paths with someone Jewish soon after.
Because he had lingered in the waiting room rather than get right back to his directionless hiking, Henry still was there when an east-bound train pulled in. Being well warmed by now, he stepped out onto the platform to see if any other significant encounters awaited him.
The first emerging passengers he saw were not Jewish, but were known to him from his mail-carrying trips: a sheepherding couple from the Greybull River valley. With an exclamation of "Beltran! Phoebe!", he went up and shook their hands. Both his friends glanced at the spear he held in his left hand as they returned his greeting.
"Are you a spear-carrier in an opera now?" asked Beltran Ugarte, a Basque by ancestry and a shepherd by ancestry, not much older than Henry. "Maybe in a ballet," laughed Phoebe, Beltran's red-headed wife; she had been an air-headed college student at the time of the Fairness Party's takeover of America. Though not a believer at that time, she had contrived to get exiled anyway, because she refused the advances of a Party official newly appointed on her campus. Meeting Beltran soon after her inprocessing, she had not been SO dimwitted as not to see how MUCH better he was than the lustful politician. And so she had both become a follower of THE Good Shepherd, and the wife of A good shepherd.
"Since you outgrew all the pretentious finding-yourself stuff," Henry said to Phoebe, "someone had to take over that function, so I'm doing it. And what brings you and the Basque Taskmaster this far east?"
"Shopping," Beltran told him. "We've sold a large part of our flock, and are bound for Casper to buy various useful things we've been wanting for some while. If they don't have something in Casper, it'll be on to Rapid City--holding our noses, of course. Our neighbor also sold--okay, here he is now." An older man, with a curly beard, was coming off the train. "Henry Spafford, meet Yitzhak Rosenbaum. Yitzhak Rosenbaum, Henry Spafford."
"How do you do, young man," said Yitzhak with an almost caricaturish accent, as he shook Henry's hand firmly. "YOU don't look too old for Huldah, anyway."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Forget that, Mr. Spafford."
Phoebe offered an explanation uninvited: "Yitzhak is a widower with two living children: a daughter Huldah who is seventeen, and a son Yakov who is eleven."
Since more was going to have to be said no matter what, Yitzhak now added: "Huldah and Yakov, together with the dogs, are back at the wintering grounds, watching over the few sheep the Ugartes and I didn't sell." His voice dropped in volume. "To take my children into the Enclave capital, I don't intend. Thick as fleas, the degenerates are in Rapid City."
"But they also seem to get around to the boondocks," Henry sighed.
"That's a true word," replied Yitzhak with a nod. "Say, are you riding the train from here with us?"
Henry took one second to think, then said, "I am now."
So they're interested in something of importance which is north of the next station WEST of here, the Apache pondered. Since Mr. Durgan is an electrical-power technician, it probably bears a relation to the Enclave's power grid. And where we are now is already at a high enough latitude that it isn't very much farther to the northern BORDER of the Wyoming Sector; so their object of interest could also be some part of the connections by which power generated IN the Enclave is passed along to the rest of the country. I wonder if it would do any good for me to tell the Energy Undersecretary about this? Of course, if it's all innocent, she might think I was being silly, or even that I was trying spitefully to make trouble for those two jerks who've already been disciplined. I guess I'll hold off telling any authority figures about this; but SOMEONE ought to know. Is my vision quest turning into a detective story?
He spent some time silently praying for guidance, there where he sat. Then he fished his borrowed Bible out of his backpack, and opened it at random. This brought him to the Book of Esther, where Esther delayed exposing the schemes of Haman until the most opportune time for dropping the bombshell. All right, is this only meant to confirm that I should wait for the right time to tell what I've heard? Or does it also mean that someone is planning to do to us what Haman planned to do to the Jews? No further answer was forthcoming for Henry at that time.
But it was ironic for him to cross paths with someone Jewish soon after.
Because he had lingered in the waiting room rather than get right back to his directionless hiking, Henry still was there when an east-bound train pulled in. Being well warmed by now, he stepped out onto the platform to see if any other significant encounters awaited him.
The first emerging passengers he saw were not Jewish, but were known to him from his mail-carrying trips: a sheepherding couple from the Greybull River valley. With an exclamation of "Beltran! Phoebe!", he went up and shook their hands. Both his friends glanced at the spear he held in his left hand as they returned his greeting.
"Are you a spear-carrier in an opera now?" asked Beltran Ugarte, a Basque by ancestry and a shepherd by ancestry, not much older than Henry. "Maybe in a ballet," laughed Phoebe, Beltran's red-headed wife; she had been an air-headed college student at the time of the Fairness Party's takeover of America. Though not a believer at that time, she had contrived to get exiled anyway, because she refused the advances of a Party official newly appointed on her campus. Meeting Beltran soon after her inprocessing, she had not been SO dimwitted as not to see how MUCH better he was than the lustful politician. And so she had both become a follower of THE Good Shepherd, and the wife of A good shepherd.
"Since you outgrew all the pretentious finding-yourself stuff," Henry said to Phoebe, "someone had to take over that function, so I'm doing it. And what brings you and the Basque Taskmaster this far east?"
"Shopping," Beltran told him. "We've sold a large part of our flock, and are bound for Casper to buy various useful things we've been wanting for some while. If they don't have something in Casper, it'll be on to Rapid City--holding our noses, of course. Our neighbor also sold--okay, here he is now." An older man, with a curly beard, was coming off the train. "Henry Spafford, meet Yitzhak Rosenbaum. Yitzhak Rosenbaum, Henry Spafford."
"How do you do, young man," said Yitzhak with an almost caricaturish accent, as he shook Henry's hand firmly. "YOU don't look too old for Huldah, anyway."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Forget that, Mr. Spafford."
Phoebe offered an explanation uninvited: "Yitzhak is a widower with two living children: a daughter Huldah who is seventeen, and a son Yakov who is eleven."
Since more was going to have to be said no matter what, Yitzhak now added: "Huldah and Yakov, together with the dogs, are back at the wintering grounds, watching over the few sheep the Ugartes and I didn't sell." His voice dropped in volume. "To take my children into the Enclave capital, I don't intend. Thick as fleas, the degenerates are in Rapid City."
"But they also seem to get around to the boondocks," Henry sighed.
"That's a true word," replied Yitzhak with a nod. "Say, are you riding the train from here with us?"
Henry took one second to think, then said, "I am now."
Zella
New member
*Raises eyebrow* That's a bit forward.
Copperfox
Well-known member
Phoebe kept Yitzhak talking about something while Henry went to pay for his train fare; this meant that Beltran, accompanying his Grange friend, could field a question. "If Mr. Rosenbaum's looking for a husband for his daughter," asked Henry, "that's no crime; but what was he getting at about age?"
Looking over his shoulder to make sure Yitzhak was not near, Beltran quietly explained, "He's remembering running across the researcher from the Pacific Federation who was in the Greybull River area three months or so ago."
"I know who that was: Bert Randall, a linguistics professor from Australia. Gabe and I camped with him. A good guy."
"A good guy for sure, and he did a good turn for Yitzhak. But he was easily twice Huldah's age; Yitzhak could have overlooked that, and Huldah never expressed an opinion one way or the other, but Mr. Randall himself said he was too old for her."
Henry raised his eyebrows. "What, you mean Mr. Rosenbaum _openly_ suggested such a marriage? On what must have been an awfully short acquaintance?"
"Less than two hours' acquaintance, I'm told; and yes, he did suggest it at least obliquely. But of course, Mr. Randall had the appeal of being someone free to _leave_ the Enclave at will; Yitzhak must have been hoping, admittedly a long-shot hope, that if Randall married Huldah he could get permission to bring the whole Rosenbaum family away to Australia with him. Poor Yitzhak wouldn't have had much to leave behind in Wyoming; Phoebe and I, with my mother, have been his only friends around here worth mentioning. But just the other day, Gabe Ellison brought a letter to Yitzhak _from_ Bert Randall, revealing that Randall had married _another_ exile woman, one closer to his age and having kids, and had brought _that_ family to Australia with him."
"Does Mr. Rosenbaum feel slighted now?"
"Disappointed, at least. And angrier than ever at God."
Audibly, Henry only said "Wow," as he grasped his ticket, collected his gear, and went with Beltran to rejoin the other two and board the train. Mentally, he was saying a great deal more--all of it addressed to God, and all of it on the subject of Yitzhak Rosenbaum having become a factor in the vision quest.
The four travellers took seats on the left-hand side of the same passenger car in which the first three had been riding up to this point. Yitzhak took a window seat, beckoning the tall Apache to sit beside him; the Ugartes were two rows back from them, with Phoebe at the window. Everyone's baggage went on the seats in between, because the passenger cars on this train happened to be old commuter cars salvaged from someplace, and so did not have luggage compartments of any kind. Henry set his spear against the bases of the aisle seats, and placed his right foot on it to keep it where it was, lest it roll out with a turn of the train and trip up someone walking through the car.
Then Henry continued mentally praying, while Yitzhak began talking in earnest.
"So tell me, young man, do you have a fiancee or a girlfriend?"
"No, sir, I don't. Within the past half year, I've been chased by a promiscuous lady powerplant supervisor, and kissed without my consent by a lady Pinkshirt; nothing more satisfying than those. But I'm still young."
"Well, if a good girl you can find, in the conditions God has imposed on us as His joke on us, you might as well _start_ young. Maybe if you and my daughter made some really cute grandbabies for me, I could have some reason to forgive the Lord."
Phoebe half-stood, to lean toward the older man. "Yitzhak, please, take it easy. Henry's just met you, and I'm not sure he's ready to listen to all the reasons why you're mad at God."
Henry in turn looked back at her, to say, "Thanks for the thought, Phoebe, but I'm red-skinned, not thin-skinned. Mr. Rosenbaum, I don't mind if you want to tell me about your feelings, _provided_ I get to say a few things also. We Indians have had hard times of our own, and life in exile _does_ depress a lot of people. So say what you want to say."
Looking over his shoulder to make sure Yitzhak was not near, Beltran quietly explained, "He's remembering running across the researcher from the Pacific Federation who was in the Greybull River area three months or so ago."
"I know who that was: Bert Randall, a linguistics professor from Australia. Gabe and I camped with him. A good guy."
"A good guy for sure, and he did a good turn for Yitzhak. But he was easily twice Huldah's age; Yitzhak could have overlooked that, and Huldah never expressed an opinion one way or the other, but Mr. Randall himself said he was too old for her."
Henry raised his eyebrows. "What, you mean Mr. Rosenbaum _openly_ suggested such a marriage? On what must have been an awfully short acquaintance?"
"Less than two hours' acquaintance, I'm told; and yes, he did suggest it at least obliquely. But of course, Mr. Randall had the appeal of being someone free to _leave_ the Enclave at will; Yitzhak must have been hoping, admittedly a long-shot hope, that if Randall married Huldah he could get permission to bring the whole Rosenbaum family away to Australia with him. Poor Yitzhak wouldn't have had much to leave behind in Wyoming; Phoebe and I, with my mother, have been his only friends around here worth mentioning. But just the other day, Gabe Ellison brought a letter to Yitzhak _from_ Bert Randall, revealing that Randall had married _another_ exile woman, one closer to his age and having kids, and had brought _that_ family to Australia with him."
"Does Mr. Rosenbaum feel slighted now?"
"Disappointed, at least. And angrier than ever at God."
Audibly, Henry only said "Wow," as he grasped his ticket, collected his gear, and went with Beltran to rejoin the other two and board the train. Mentally, he was saying a great deal more--all of it addressed to God, and all of it on the subject of Yitzhak Rosenbaum having become a factor in the vision quest.
The four travellers took seats on the left-hand side of the same passenger car in which the first three had been riding up to this point. Yitzhak took a window seat, beckoning the tall Apache to sit beside him; the Ugartes were two rows back from them, with Phoebe at the window. Everyone's baggage went on the seats in between, because the passenger cars on this train happened to be old commuter cars salvaged from someplace, and so did not have luggage compartments of any kind. Henry set his spear against the bases of the aisle seats, and placed his right foot on it to keep it where it was, lest it roll out with a turn of the train and trip up someone walking through the car.
Then Henry continued mentally praying, while Yitzhak began talking in earnest.
"So tell me, young man, do you have a fiancee or a girlfriend?"
"No, sir, I don't. Within the past half year, I've been chased by a promiscuous lady powerplant supervisor, and kissed without my consent by a lady Pinkshirt; nothing more satisfying than those. But I'm still young."
"Well, if a good girl you can find, in the conditions God has imposed on us as His joke on us, you might as well _start_ young. Maybe if you and my daughter made some really cute grandbabies for me, I could have some reason to forgive the Lord."
Phoebe half-stood, to lean toward the older man. "Yitzhak, please, take it easy. Henry's just met you, and I'm not sure he's ready to listen to all the reasons why you're mad at God."
Henry in turn looked back at her, to say, "Thanks for the thought, Phoebe, but I'm red-skinned, not thin-skinned. Mr. Rosenbaum, I don't mind if you want to tell me about your feelings, _provided_ I get to say a few things also. We Indians have had hard times of our own, and life in exile _does_ depress a lot of people. So say what you want to say."
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Copperfox
Well-known member
If Henry had not possessed a fair knowledge of the Old Testament, what the shepherd beside him said next would have made no sense to him...
"In the Proverbs it says that God's glory is in concealing things. So accomplices the prophets must have been for Him in keeping the secret; but like a king in that proverb, I've searched it out. Jeremiah, Daniel, Ezekiel--they all _said_ that the exile to Babylon was because the people in Judah sinned. Maintaining the party line, those prophets were. But I'll bet you never hear anyone _today_ prophesying that _this_ exile is a punishment that we deserved. And why do suppose this is?"
"As a Christian," Henry told him, "I would answer that in the Christian era, God is not doing so much of judging whole nations as a unit in clear and recognizable ways; therefore, no cause for a prophet to tell us that this exile is our fault as a group. What's your answer to your own question, and what does it have to do with you being angry at God now?"
Yitzhak focussed on Henry a stare that was almost unnerving. "The prophets LIED. The exile to Babylon _wasn't_ a justified punishment; the Jews in that generation were no worse than anyone else. It just _happened,_ and God let it happen when He could have prevented it. He could get away with that kind of thing then, and still be worshipped by schmucks; but now, persons like me have seen through His tricks. You know, He's like the man behind the curtain in 'The Wizard of Oz.' So _that's_ why no prophet is out making excuses for _this_ exile; God knows that He's been caught at His game, so there's no more point in pretending."
"But, but _what_ game? What is it you think that God is doing?"
"Keeping us battered down, getting us accustomed to shattered hopes and a rotten life, so we'll be pathetically grateful if He ever lets us even have a _little_ shred of happiness between the disasters." Now Yitzhak reached into a pocket, and drew forth what must be the same letter Beltran had mentioned. "You see this? Weeks it took for this letter to reach me, the only letter that's been written to me by a Gentile outside the fence in all the time I've lived in the Enclave; and what good does it do me when it comes? It tells me that a man who was free to come and go, a man who could have shared his freedom with my Huldah, did choose an exile woman--but chose an _Egyptian_ woman! Egyptian! The country which has been an enemy to my people from the time of the Pharaohs, right down to the Muslim Brotherhood!"
Without stating that he had already heard of the existence of this letter, Henry put out a hand. "May I see that, please?" Allowed to peruse it, he had some difficulty, because it was in cursive handwriting, which Henry had not seen much of in the last six or seven years; but eventually he made out the sense of what Bert Randall had written. Then he handed it back to Yitzhak, who clutched it as one clutches a favorite grudge.
"Isn't that infuriating?" demanded the older man, as if he could not imagine Henry not agreeing. "Think of it this way: it's as if some shmuck had the chance to marry the most beautiful Apache woman alive, but he preferred a slovenly frump of the Navaho or whatever tribe's your enemy. Now you see my point, right? God is letting these things happen to taunt me, to taunt everyone who _isn't_ fooled by His old 'steadfast love' song-and-dance."
"Excuse me, sir, but it's my turn to say something now. From what I saw in the Australian gentleman's letter, the woman he married is only Egyptian by ancestry. She's disavowed all affiliation with genocidal Pharaohs OR Islamist radicals."
"To become a Christian," grumbled Yitzhak. "And an improvement I should call this? I should feel everything's fine because now that Egyptian woman worships three gods in Australia, while she enjoys freedom that my family doesn't get to enjoy? Would a God Who cared about righteousness allow this?"
Now it was Henry who focussed a stare upon Yitzhak; and Apaches can deliver impressive stares when they choose. "Mister Rosenbaum, although I never met any Jews when I lived in the Apache Nation, I do know something of the reasons why Jewish people find the Trinity doctrine revolting. It isn't wrong to desire that men's understanding of the Creator NOT be distorted. But perhaps there's a distortion of God's nature much closer to home for you than what you believe to be polytheism on our part. I'm not educated enough to dissect every interpretation of every Bible verse that relates to the Trinity issue; but something I do know, is that your own Scriptures are _full_ of passages describing the _goodness_ of God.
"We Christians believe that God contains three components, or dimensions, or aspects within Himself; we _don't_ worship three gods, we worship one God Who is permitted to be complicated if He chooses to be. If it's a distortion to say God can be complex, how much _more_ of a distortion is it for you to say that God IS NOT EVEN GOOD??"
Yitzhak Rosenbaum assumed a look of sullen resentfulness; but Henry was not going to let him resort to any shallow cheap shots about Crusades and Inquisitions, historical events Henry was not responsible for. Keeping up his momentum, he went on: "You clearly love your daughter. Which would be a _worse_ shock to you: to find out that she had abilities you had not known about? Or to find out that she was EVIL, and that she liked hurting people?"
"Her being evil would be worse," Yitzhak reluctantly conceded.
"And by the same token, even if we suppose that there is no Trinity, saying that GOD is evil is much _more_ of a perversion of the beliefs your own ancestral culture is built upon, than the idea of God having complications about Him which were not obvious in the days of the prophets.
"Now, I won't push you further. I'm not asking you to believe immediately, without more proof than I can display right now, that the Christian gospel is _true;_ but I do ask you to consider that maybe it _isn't_ so horribly wrong, that it should make you resent God letting Egyptian Christians go to Australia. And consider, at least as a hypothesis, that between you and God, maybe God is not the one Who owes anybody a confession of wrongdoing. Maybe calling Him dishonest and cruel is not _quite_ the perfect fulfillment of your Jewish identity. Now, if you still want to tell me about your daughter, I'm perfectly willing to listen."
Yitzhak mulled this over for a minute or longer. Then, almost shyly, with no apology for his ranting but in a much mellower tone, he talked first about Huldah's deceased mother Eudora...then began relating some cherished moments from Huldah's early childhood back in Israel.
"In the Proverbs it says that God's glory is in concealing things. So accomplices the prophets must have been for Him in keeping the secret; but like a king in that proverb, I've searched it out. Jeremiah, Daniel, Ezekiel--they all _said_ that the exile to Babylon was because the people in Judah sinned. Maintaining the party line, those prophets were. But I'll bet you never hear anyone _today_ prophesying that _this_ exile is a punishment that we deserved. And why do suppose this is?"
"As a Christian," Henry told him, "I would answer that in the Christian era, God is not doing so much of judging whole nations as a unit in clear and recognizable ways; therefore, no cause for a prophet to tell us that this exile is our fault as a group. What's your answer to your own question, and what does it have to do with you being angry at God now?"
Yitzhak focussed on Henry a stare that was almost unnerving. "The prophets LIED. The exile to Babylon _wasn't_ a justified punishment; the Jews in that generation were no worse than anyone else. It just _happened,_ and God let it happen when He could have prevented it. He could get away with that kind of thing then, and still be worshipped by schmucks; but now, persons like me have seen through His tricks. You know, He's like the man behind the curtain in 'The Wizard of Oz.' So _that's_ why no prophet is out making excuses for _this_ exile; God knows that He's been caught at His game, so there's no more point in pretending."
"But, but _what_ game? What is it you think that God is doing?"
"Keeping us battered down, getting us accustomed to shattered hopes and a rotten life, so we'll be pathetically grateful if He ever lets us even have a _little_ shred of happiness between the disasters." Now Yitzhak reached into a pocket, and drew forth what must be the same letter Beltran had mentioned. "You see this? Weeks it took for this letter to reach me, the only letter that's been written to me by a Gentile outside the fence in all the time I've lived in the Enclave; and what good does it do me when it comes? It tells me that a man who was free to come and go, a man who could have shared his freedom with my Huldah, did choose an exile woman--but chose an _Egyptian_ woman! Egyptian! The country which has been an enemy to my people from the time of the Pharaohs, right down to the Muslim Brotherhood!"
Without stating that he had already heard of the existence of this letter, Henry put out a hand. "May I see that, please?" Allowed to peruse it, he had some difficulty, because it was in cursive handwriting, which Henry had not seen much of in the last six or seven years; but eventually he made out the sense of what Bert Randall had written. Then he handed it back to Yitzhak, who clutched it as one clutches a favorite grudge.
"Isn't that infuriating?" demanded the older man, as if he could not imagine Henry not agreeing. "Think of it this way: it's as if some shmuck had the chance to marry the most beautiful Apache woman alive, but he preferred a slovenly frump of the Navaho or whatever tribe's your enemy. Now you see my point, right? God is letting these things happen to taunt me, to taunt everyone who _isn't_ fooled by His old 'steadfast love' song-and-dance."
"Excuse me, sir, but it's my turn to say something now. From what I saw in the Australian gentleman's letter, the woman he married is only Egyptian by ancestry. She's disavowed all affiliation with genocidal Pharaohs OR Islamist radicals."
"To become a Christian," grumbled Yitzhak. "And an improvement I should call this? I should feel everything's fine because now that Egyptian woman worships three gods in Australia, while she enjoys freedom that my family doesn't get to enjoy? Would a God Who cared about righteousness allow this?"
Now it was Henry who focussed a stare upon Yitzhak; and Apaches can deliver impressive stares when they choose. "Mister Rosenbaum, although I never met any Jews when I lived in the Apache Nation, I do know something of the reasons why Jewish people find the Trinity doctrine revolting. It isn't wrong to desire that men's understanding of the Creator NOT be distorted. But perhaps there's a distortion of God's nature much closer to home for you than what you believe to be polytheism on our part. I'm not educated enough to dissect every interpretation of every Bible verse that relates to the Trinity issue; but something I do know, is that your own Scriptures are _full_ of passages describing the _goodness_ of God.
"We Christians believe that God contains three components, or dimensions, or aspects within Himself; we _don't_ worship three gods, we worship one God Who is permitted to be complicated if He chooses to be. If it's a distortion to say God can be complex, how much _more_ of a distortion is it for you to say that God IS NOT EVEN GOOD??"
Yitzhak Rosenbaum assumed a look of sullen resentfulness; but Henry was not going to let him resort to any shallow cheap shots about Crusades and Inquisitions, historical events Henry was not responsible for. Keeping up his momentum, he went on: "You clearly love your daughter. Which would be a _worse_ shock to you: to find out that she had abilities you had not known about? Or to find out that she was EVIL, and that she liked hurting people?"
"Her being evil would be worse," Yitzhak reluctantly conceded.
"And by the same token, even if we suppose that there is no Trinity, saying that GOD is evil is much _more_ of a perversion of the beliefs your own ancestral culture is built upon, than the idea of God having complications about Him which were not obvious in the days of the prophets.
"Now, I won't push you further. I'm not asking you to believe immediately, without more proof than I can display right now, that the Christian gospel is _true;_ but I do ask you to consider that maybe it _isn't_ so horribly wrong, that it should make you resent God letting Egyptian Christians go to Australia. And consider, at least as a hypothesis, that between you and God, maybe God is not the one Who owes anybody a confession of wrongdoing. Maybe calling Him dishonest and cruel is not _quite_ the perfect fulfillment of your Jewish identity. Now, if you still want to tell me about your daughter, I'm perfectly willing to listen."
Yitzhak mulled this over for a minute or longer. Then, almost shyly, with no apology for his ranting but in a much mellower tone, he talked first about Huldah's deceased mother Eudora...then began relating some cherished moments from Huldah's early childhood back in Israel.
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Copperfox
Well-known member
The train made a stop at Sussex before it turned south for Casper, where it would arrive before the night was over. But Henry, called now to involve himself with Yitzhak Rosenbaum's spiritual condition, could not allow himself to leave the train and go visit the Havens family; so he rode on with Yitzhak and the Ugartes.
If he had been able to drop in on Alipang, Henry would have seen that Kim was home from Casper now, and they would have told him about an incident that happened a few hours before his train passed through...
= = = = = = = = = = = = =
Alipang was giving dental examinations which did not require Kim's assistance, so she was in the house, overseeing the homeschool studies of her elder two children. Brendan was out in back of the house with Daffodil, showing the houseguest how they shovelled up horse droppings and laid them on a low concrete slab near the stable to dry, as a backup source of fuel for burning.
"All right, kids, let's review the configuration of the Federal Districts, even if we _won't_ visit them in this life. Which of you wants to tell me what part of the United States was defined as the Northwest Federal District?"
Wilson felt more dignified nodding than raising his hand, as he answered, "The complete states of Washington and Oregon, plus the northern tip of Idaho."
"Very good. What about the Rocky Mountain Federal District?"
Esperanza claimed that one: "Most of Idaho, all of Montana, and the north and west edges of Wyoming outside the Enclave."
"North Central District?" Again Esperanza: "All of North Dakota that isn't in the Enclave, then practically all of Minnesota, and part of Wisconsin."
"Midwest District?"
Wilson told his mother, "Southwest quarter of Wisconsin, a bit of Iowa along the Mississippi River, then almost all of Illinois, Indiana and Ohio, plus part of Kentucky."
"Great Lakes Muslim Cantonment?"
Wilson said, "All of Michigan, part of Wisconsin, and set-aside lake-port holdings in Minnesota, Illinois and Indiana, reached by water from their main land areas."
"Seaway District? And why is it called that when it's not adjacent to the ocean?"
Esperanza did the first really eager hand-wave of the quiz. "It follows the Saint Lawrence River Seaway. It's made of the north edge of Ohio, most of Pennsylvania, and all of New York State except the New York City metropolitan area."
"New England District?"
"The same area we used to call the New England states," replied Wilson, "except that the portion of Long Island east of the New York City part was added to it."
"Mid-Atlantic District?"
Another nod from Wilson. "Starts with New York City, then runs down the Atlantic coast, taking in the eastern end of Pennsylvania, the entirety of New Jersey, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia and West Virginia, the east end of Kentucky, and most of North Carolina."
"Excellent. Esperanza, I want you to do the rest. Southeast District?"
"All of South Carolina and Georgia, plus most of Florida."
"Gulf Coast District?"
"The Florida Panhandle, most of Alabama, most of Mississippi, and all of Louisiana."
"Inland Southern District?"
"All of Arkansas, all of Tennessee, the north ends of Mississippi and Alabama, and the west end of North Carolina."
"Texas Federal District?"
Esperanza giggled. "Japan and Morocco, of course!"
Kim playfully twiddled the tip of her daughter's nose. "Har de har har. Great Plains District?"
"All of South Dakota and Nebraska that isn't in the Enclave, the southern strip of Wyoming outside the Enclave, most of Iowa, and all of Kansas, Missouri and Oklahoma."
"Very good. In case any Overseers get so accustomed to the Enclave that they forget they have other places they could go to, you'll be able to remind them. Now tell me, what states were taken away from us to form the People's Republic of Aztlan?"
"Colorado... Utah..."
This was as far as the girl got before Daffodil Ford rushed in the back door of the house, then charged through the kitchen and sought out the living room, babbling on full automatic as he came: "Don't be angry! I didn't tell him anything! I didn't suggest it! Mrs. Havens! It wasn't my idea, he thought of it out of nowhere! Don't be angry! I wouldn't try to disrupt your arrangements! He wanted me to tell him! Please don't kick me out!"
If he had been able to drop in on Alipang, Henry would have seen that Kim was home from Casper now, and they would have told him about an incident that happened a few hours before his train passed through...
= = = = = = = = = = = = =
Alipang was giving dental examinations which did not require Kim's assistance, so she was in the house, overseeing the homeschool studies of her elder two children. Brendan was out in back of the house with Daffodil, showing the houseguest how they shovelled up horse droppings and laid them on a low concrete slab near the stable to dry, as a backup source of fuel for burning.
"All right, kids, let's review the configuration of the Federal Districts, even if we _won't_ visit them in this life. Which of you wants to tell me what part of the United States was defined as the Northwest Federal District?"
Wilson felt more dignified nodding than raising his hand, as he answered, "The complete states of Washington and Oregon, plus the northern tip of Idaho."
"Very good. What about the Rocky Mountain Federal District?"
Esperanza claimed that one: "Most of Idaho, all of Montana, and the north and west edges of Wyoming outside the Enclave."
"North Central District?" Again Esperanza: "All of North Dakota that isn't in the Enclave, then practically all of Minnesota, and part of Wisconsin."
"Midwest District?"
Wilson told his mother, "Southwest quarter of Wisconsin, a bit of Iowa along the Mississippi River, then almost all of Illinois, Indiana and Ohio, plus part of Kentucky."
"Great Lakes Muslim Cantonment?"
Wilson said, "All of Michigan, part of Wisconsin, and set-aside lake-port holdings in Minnesota, Illinois and Indiana, reached by water from their main land areas."
"Seaway District? And why is it called that when it's not adjacent to the ocean?"
Esperanza did the first really eager hand-wave of the quiz. "It follows the Saint Lawrence River Seaway. It's made of the north edge of Ohio, most of Pennsylvania, and all of New York State except the New York City metropolitan area."
"New England District?"
"The same area we used to call the New England states," replied Wilson, "except that the portion of Long Island east of the New York City part was added to it."
"Mid-Atlantic District?"
Another nod from Wilson. "Starts with New York City, then runs down the Atlantic coast, taking in the eastern end of Pennsylvania, the entirety of New Jersey, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia and West Virginia, the east end of Kentucky, and most of North Carolina."
"Excellent. Esperanza, I want you to do the rest. Southeast District?"
"All of South Carolina and Georgia, plus most of Florida."
"Gulf Coast District?"
"The Florida Panhandle, most of Alabama, most of Mississippi, and all of Louisiana."
"Inland Southern District?"
"All of Arkansas, all of Tennessee, the north ends of Mississippi and Alabama, and the west end of North Carolina."
"Texas Federal District?"
Esperanza giggled. "Japan and Morocco, of course!"
Kim playfully twiddled the tip of her daughter's nose. "Har de har har. Great Plains District?"
"All of South Dakota and Nebraska that isn't in the Enclave, the southern strip of Wyoming outside the Enclave, most of Iowa, and all of Kansas, Missouri and Oklahoma."
"Very good. In case any Overseers get so accustomed to the Enclave that they forget they have other places they could go to, you'll be able to remind them. Now tell me, what states were taken away from us to form the People's Republic of Aztlan?"
"Colorado... Utah..."
This was as far as the girl got before Daffodil Ford rushed in the back door of the house, then charged through the kitchen and sought out the living room, babbling on full automatic as he came: "Don't be angry! I didn't tell him anything! I didn't suggest it! Mrs. Havens! It wasn't my idea, he thought of it out of nowhere! Don't be angry! I wouldn't try to disrupt your arrangements! He wanted me to tell him! Please don't kick me out!"
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Copperfox
Well-known member
Kim, Wilson and Esperanza all rose from their seats to face Daffodil. He, wild-eyed and quivering like a bowstring, seemed torn between reaching to catch hold of each of the other three, and shrinking away from them. Kim, for her part, gently grasped his arms and said, "Sit down, Daffy, and tell us what's wrong."
"It wasn't my idea!" the teenager cried again; then he went into spasms as if he were being electrocuted. Kim did not have a strong enough hold on him to support his weight; he fell, bouncing off the sofa and flopping onto the floor, where he jerked like a caught fish. Kim's very next action was to grab a thick pad of notepaper from a table, and jam a corner of it into Daffodil's mouth--to prevent him from biting through his own tongue. Her action after this was to tell Wilson and Esperanza, "Check on your brother, and bring your father here!"
As her children started out the door by which Daffodil had entered, the instructions became unnecessary. Little Brendan came into the room, not hurt in any way, but looking worried; with him was Alipang, bringing an old low-tech stethoscope from his office and looking still more worried. Brendan had obviously run for Papa as soon as whatever it was had happened.
"He's in convulsions," Kim told her husband, shoving the coffee table out of the way with one foot so he could more easily join her alongside the stricken youth.
As soon as his son had burst into the office and reported the guest's sudden frenzied behavior, Alipang had asked him, as they started for the house, whether Daffodil had just lately eaten or drunk anything; for Daffodil had told the Havens family some of the story of his unexpected new adverse reaction to Joy Nectar. Brendan had answered no to that question. The dental patient, a roofer, had stayed where he was while the dentist changed roles to paramedic. Crouching now beside the patient and noting that his breathing was no more abnormal than could be expected in a hysterical state, Alipang told Kim and Wilson to hold his arms and legs immobilized, while Esperanza kept Brendan out of the way; then Alipang began using the stethoscope, a gift from Irina Stepanova when she had trained him in emergency care.
"His heartbeat's fast, but not to the point of tachycardia; and I think...yes, it's beginning to slow down, but not much. Daffy, can you see us here with you? Do you hear me talking?" All that came out of the tall boy's mouth in reply was spit, and what sounded like "The collective is all!"
"Kim, are there acupuncture points to suppress convulsions?"
"Yes! In the feet, and over the liver." Kim gestured to her daughter. "Essie, you and Brendan run back to the office and get my case of needles. Don't let it pop open! And ask Mister Stanwyck to come help us. Daffy's stronger than he looks, and we can't have him bucking when I'm trying to insert a needle."
Less than two minutes later, the dental patient Stanwyck had become an assistant caregiver. He helped yank off Daffodil's coat and pull the shirt loose from the trousers, then took up station by Daffodil's head, pinning the boy's shoulders, while Esperanza and Brendan together held one arm pinned and Wilson held the other arm. Alipang tugged off the shoes, then put his iron hands and strategically-planted knees to work preventing Daffodil's legs from moving. Once assured that her patient was immobile, Kim inserted three of her Chinese needles in the appropriate points.
It worked; the teenager's body relaxed. After half a minute with no jerking, Kim said, "Al, Mister Stanwyck, kids, you can let go now, thank you. Daffy, now can you hear us talking?"
Lying on the floor, his breath becoming more normal also, Daffodil replied, "I was able to hear you the whole time, but the panic attack, if that's the right term, wouldn't let me form a coherent answer."
"Was this like what happened with the Joy Nectar?" asked Alipang.
"Yes, just like that."
Mister Stanwyck raised his eyebrows. "If Joy Nectar can do this to a person, I won't touch the stuff again."
Wilson looked at his kid brother. "Brendan, can you tell us anything about why this all happened?"
Brendan lowered his eyes. "I don't wanna talk about it." But the next instant, as if suddenly realizing what mistaken interpretation his parents might make of his reticence, he added, "But I don't mean Daffy did anything bad, he didn't do anything bad. I was just dumb. It was my fault."
The roofer stood up and fished in his jacket pocket. "Al, that sounds like my cue to exit. You were practically done with my checkup anyway. Here's your ten pesos."
"Today," Alipang told him, "ten pesos is your wages for helping us with our boarder."
"I'll only agree to that if you agree to let me give you a free roof inspection at the first thaw."
Alipang nodded, and Mister Stanwyck took his leave. Then Alipang helped Daffodil up into a sitting position leaning against the sofa. "All right, Daffy, tell us what happened. And don't be afraid. Even if we weren't living in a place where we have restraints on our actions, we believe in the old rule of Innocent Until Proven Guilty. Oh, but no sudden movements; you still have three acupuncture needles sticking in you."
"It wasn't my idea!" the teenager cried again; then he went into spasms as if he were being electrocuted. Kim did not have a strong enough hold on him to support his weight; he fell, bouncing off the sofa and flopping onto the floor, where he jerked like a caught fish. Kim's very next action was to grab a thick pad of notepaper from a table, and jam a corner of it into Daffodil's mouth--to prevent him from biting through his own tongue. Her action after this was to tell Wilson and Esperanza, "Check on your brother, and bring your father here!"
As her children started out the door by which Daffodil had entered, the instructions became unnecessary. Little Brendan came into the room, not hurt in any way, but looking worried; with him was Alipang, bringing an old low-tech stethoscope from his office and looking still more worried. Brendan had obviously run for Papa as soon as whatever it was had happened.
"He's in convulsions," Kim told her husband, shoving the coffee table out of the way with one foot so he could more easily join her alongside the stricken youth.
As soon as his son had burst into the office and reported the guest's sudden frenzied behavior, Alipang had asked him, as they started for the house, whether Daffodil had just lately eaten or drunk anything; for Daffodil had told the Havens family some of the story of his unexpected new adverse reaction to Joy Nectar. Brendan had answered no to that question. The dental patient, a roofer, had stayed where he was while the dentist changed roles to paramedic. Crouching now beside the patient and noting that his breathing was no more abnormal than could be expected in a hysterical state, Alipang told Kim and Wilson to hold his arms and legs immobilized, while Esperanza kept Brendan out of the way; then Alipang began using the stethoscope, a gift from Irina Stepanova when she had trained him in emergency care.
"His heartbeat's fast, but not to the point of tachycardia; and I think...yes, it's beginning to slow down, but not much. Daffy, can you see us here with you? Do you hear me talking?" All that came out of the tall boy's mouth in reply was spit, and what sounded like "The collective is all!"
"Kim, are there acupuncture points to suppress convulsions?"
"Yes! In the feet, and over the liver." Kim gestured to her daughter. "Essie, you and Brendan run back to the office and get my case of needles. Don't let it pop open! And ask Mister Stanwyck to come help us. Daffy's stronger than he looks, and we can't have him bucking when I'm trying to insert a needle."
Less than two minutes later, the dental patient Stanwyck had become an assistant caregiver. He helped yank off Daffodil's coat and pull the shirt loose from the trousers, then took up station by Daffodil's head, pinning the boy's shoulders, while Esperanza and Brendan together held one arm pinned and Wilson held the other arm. Alipang tugged off the shoes, then put his iron hands and strategically-planted knees to work preventing Daffodil's legs from moving. Once assured that her patient was immobile, Kim inserted three of her Chinese needles in the appropriate points.
It worked; the teenager's body relaxed. After half a minute with no jerking, Kim said, "Al, Mister Stanwyck, kids, you can let go now, thank you. Daffy, now can you hear us talking?"
Lying on the floor, his breath becoming more normal also, Daffodil replied, "I was able to hear you the whole time, but the panic attack, if that's the right term, wouldn't let me form a coherent answer."
"Was this like what happened with the Joy Nectar?" asked Alipang.
"Yes, just like that."
Mister Stanwyck raised his eyebrows. "If Joy Nectar can do this to a person, I won't touch the stuff again."
Wilson looked at his kid brother. "Brendan, can you tell us anything about why this all happened?"
Brendan lowered his eyes. "I don't wanna talk about it." But the next instant, as if suddenly realizing what mistaken interpretation his parents might make of his reticence, he added, "But I don't mean Daffy did anything bad, he didn't do anything bad. I was just dumb. It was my fault."
The roofer stood up and fished in his jacket pocket. "Al, that sounds like my cue to exit. You were practically done with my checkup anyway. Here's your ten pesos."
"Today," Alipang told him, "ten pesos is your wages for helping us with our boarder."
"I'll only agree to that if you agree to let me give you a free roof inspection at the first thaw."
Alipang nodded, and Mister Stanwyck took his leave. Then Alipang helped Daffodil up into a sitting position leaning against the sofa. "All right, Daffy, tell us what happened. And don't be afraid. Even if we weren't living in a place where we have restraints on our actions, we believe in the old rule of Innocent Until Proven Guilty. Oh, but no sudden movements; you still have three acupuncture needles sticking in you."
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Ginny_JillPole
Banned
Government is the antidote for hate
Gosh, what? I could have punched that guy
if he hadn't been the Deputy Commander of the Campaign Against Hate for the Western Enclave
YEAH, DAFFY, TELL US WHAT HAPPENED????!!!!!
Man, I'm like TERRIFIED... in a good way... i mean, SURPRISED of how different this story has developed from what I thought it'd be, but it's GREAT!! Like, i thought it'd take AGES, but here I am, devouring it till the last page. I have a thousand things to comment, but I'm running out of time, but i will make the list.
"Oh, but no sudden movements; you still have three acupuncture needles sticking in you."
For some reason, this made me giggle
Gosh, what? I could have punched that guy
if he hadn't been the Deputy Commander of the Campaign Against Hate for the Western EnclaveYEAH, DAFFY, TELL US WHAT HAPPENED????!!!!!
Man, I'm like TERRIFIED... in a good way... i mean, SURPRISED of how different this story has developed from what I thought it'd be, but it's GREAT!! Like, i thought it'd take AGES, but here I am, devouring it till the last page. I have a thousand things to comment, but I'm running out of time, but i will make the list.
"Oh, but no sudden movements; you still have three acupuncture needles sticking in you."
For some reason, this made me giggle
Copperfox
Well-known member
"One thing first." Now seeing the needle protruding from the location of his liver, Daffodil took care not to disturb it as he dug for his cellphone. Retrieving the phone, he dialled a stored number; then, as he set the phone to his ear, he explained to Kim, "Calling Overseer Station 14, Captain Butello's office." An instant later, he was speaking to whoever answered at the other end:
"Hello, this is Daffodil Ford, the Ambassador's--bioproduct--who's here studying the exile population. I know that my tracking chip transmits my vital signs, so you, or at least your station computer, will be aware that.... No! I _don't_ need a medevac helicopter! Abort that flight.... It was just a flashback to traumas I had many weeks ago, which were nothing to do with the Enclave or the exiles.... Far from it, _they_ brought me out of the fit. I'm all right now, and I don't need to be rescued from the Havens family. They weren't even _saying_ anything against the Party.... Good. Thank the Captain for me.... I don't know yet; but I'm doing just fine at present.... All right, yes, of course. The collective is all. Goodbye."
Once this business was disposed of, Alipang said to Daffodil, "From what you've said so far about your life, I believe that your attacks have something to do with constantly dreading that authority figures are going to find fault with you, no matter how you try to please them."
Daffodil drew a long breath as he gazed at his feet. "Are there needles in my feet?"
"There are," Kim affirmed. "But I think they can come out now, and the one in your body. Hold still."
When the needles were gone and the shaking fit _stayed_ gone, Daffodil spoke further: "Much of my tension back in Boston involved wishing I could have, I guess you would call it 'romance.' What I got my first little taste of with Citizen Skydazzle, while I was in the Churchbusters play. I've seen enough of the way males and females get along here in the Enclave, to know that there _isn't_ any reason why I also shouldn't be able to find emotional closeness with a female citizen--"
"You're allowed to say 'girl' here," said Esperanza.
"Very well, with a girl. While Brendan and I were collecting the pre-processed organic fuel, I mentioned to him how marvellous I thought it was, how naturally this love comes to you people. So Brendan asked me why my Mama and Papa didn't love each other like his Mama and Papa love each other. I told him that my Mama never wanted to have a Papa in her house, because she hates men. His eyes went wide at that, and he asked me how people outside the fence could get any babies without any Papas."
"Brendan was very young when they relocated us here," Alipang remarked; "he barely even remembers Virginia. The outside world is vague and mythical to him." Turning to Brendan: "Is that how it happened, like Daffy is telling us?"
"Yes, Papa, just like that. I'm sorry I got him upset."
"It isn't your fault, sweetie," Kim soothed.
"It isn't your fault, either," Alipang told his guest. "Just a cultural gap. Listen to me, I'm being a blasted multiculturalist! But go on, Daffy."
"As soon as there was even a suggestion of your biopr-- of your son asking ME to explain reproduction, I was horrified that you might think I was _looking_ for the chance to give more information to him than you wanted him to have. I get accused of so many things I didn't do; sometimes my mother would--but never mind that. All at once I was frantic to convince you that I _wasn't_ trying to sabotage your child-nurturing policies. The rest you saw."
Alipang laid a hand warmly on Daffodil's left shoulder. "I believe you on every detail, son."
Daffodil knew that "son" was a figure of speech; but just hearing it from this man launched a sensation through the youth's whole nervous system, as if one spoken syllable could fill him with invincible strength, with world-conquering boldness. Meanwhile, Alipang glanced at the younger of his _actual_ sons.
"Brendan, everything's okay now. But if you have questions about how people get babies, ask me, and I'll explain things just the way Grandpa Havens explained to me long ago. If Daffodil feels better now, maybe you and he could finish your job with the pre-processed organic fuel."
"But Papa, don't we have to finish with the horse-poop first?"
That set Kim and Wilson laughing.
"Hello, this is Daffodil Ford, the Ambassador's--bioproduct--who's here studying the exile population. I know that my tracking chip transmits my vital signs, so you, or at least your station computer, will be aware that.... No! I _don't_ need a medevac helicopter! Abort that flight.... It was just a flashback to traumas I had many weeks ago, which were nothing to do with the Enclave or the exiles.... Far from it, _they_ brought me out of the fit. I'm all right now, and I don't need to be rescued from the Havens family. They weren't even _saying_ anything against the Party.... Good. Thank the Captain for me.... I don't know yet; but I'm doing just fine at present.... All right, yes, of course. The collective is all. Goodbye."
Once this business was disposed of, Alipang said to Daffodil, "From what you've said so far about your life, I believe that your attacks have something to do with constantly dreading that authority figures are going to find fault with you, no matter how you try to please them."
Daffodil drew a long breath as he gazed at his feet. "Are there needles in my feet?"
"There are," Kim affirmed. "But I think they can come out now, and the one in your body. Hold still."
When the needles were gone and the shaking fit _stayed_ gone, Daffodil spoke further: "Much of my tension back in Boston involved wishing I could have, I guess you would call it 'romance.' What I got my first little taste of with Citizen Skydazzle, while I was in the Churchbusters play. I've seen enough of the way males and females get along here in the Enclave, to know that there _isn't_ any reason why I also shouldn't be able to find emotional closeness with a female citizen--"
"You're allowed to say 'girl' here," said Esperanza.
"Very well, with a girl. While Brendan and I were collecting the pre-processed organic fuel, I mentioned to him how marvellous I thought it was, how naturally this love comes to you people. So Brendan asked me why my Mama and Papa didn't love each other like his Mama and Papa love each other. I told him that my Mama never wanted to have a Papa in her house, because she hates men. His eyes went wide at that, and he asked me how people outside the fence could get any babies without any Papas."
"Brendan was very young when they relocated us here," Alipang remarked; "he barely even remembers Virginia. The outside world is vague and mythical to him." Turning to Brendan: "Is that how it happened, like Daffy is telling us?"
"Yes, Papa, just like that. I'm sorry I got him upset."
"It isn't your fault, sweetie," Kim soothed.
"It isn't your fault, either," Alipang told his guest. "Just a cultural gap. Listen to me, I'm being a blasted multiculturalist! But go on, Daffy."
"As soon as there was even a suggestion of your biopr-- of your son asking ME to explain reproduction, I was horrified that you might think I was _looking_ for the chance to give more information to him than you wanted him to have. I get accused of so many things I didn't do; sometimes my mother would--but never mind that. All at once I was frantic to convince you that I _wasn't_ trying to sabotage your child-nurturing policies. The rest you saw."
Alipang laid a hand warmly on Daffodil's left shoulder. "I believe you on every detail, son."
Daffodil knew that "son" was a figure of speech; but just hearing it from this man launched a sensation through the youth's whole nervous system, as if one spoken syllable could fill him with invincible strength, with world-conquering boldness. Meanwhile, Alipang glanced at the younger of his _actual_ sons.
"Brendan, everything's okay now. But if you have questions about how people get babies, ask me, and I'll explain things just the way Grandpa Havens explained to me long ago. If Daffodil feels better now, maybe you and he could finish your job with the pre-processed organic fuel."
"But Papa, don't we have to finish with the horse-poop first?"
That set Kim and Wilson laughing.
Copperfox
Well-known member
JUST TO DO SOMETHING DIFFERENT:
As income-tax time draws near, in addition to my having to travel back to Colorado after seeing my hospitalized nephew, I will be distracted from Alipang and Company for awhile. (They at least have the advantage that, because they don't really exist, their troubles are somewhat less painful.) So now, _instead_ of summarizing what has most recently gone by, let me offer a little _preview_ of things I intend to feature in soon-coming chapters.
1) Emilio Vasquez and Jed Brickhouse will be seen taking part in the deception strategy to confuse the Aztlanos about just HOW much air defense the "Sky Rangers" are able to mount.
2) Reltseotu Smith, the dishonest journalist (which is a redundant phrase in the Diversity States), will enter a new phase in her career.
3) The political situation in the now-independent Hawaii will develop further, and we'll see Nalani Hahona and Cassandra Jefferson involved in it.
4) Dana, Mark and Whiplash will make a new friend among the Grange volunteers (not in Wyoming).
5) Brendan (the adult one, the Marine Corps veteran) will go on that secret mission to Switzerland.
6) Dan and Chilena will be cast as Lysander and Hermia in a (revisionist, of course) production of "A Midsummer Night's Dream."
As income-tax time draws near, in addition to my having to travel back to Colorado after seeing my hospitalized nephew, I will be distracted from Alipang and Company for awhile. (They at least have the advantage that, because they don't really exist, their troubles are somewhat less painful.) So now, _instead_ of summarizing what has most recently gone by, let me offer a little _preview_ of things I intend to feature in soon-coming chapters.
1) Emilio Vasquez and Jed Brickhouse will be seen taking part in the deception strategy to confuse the Aztlanos about just HOW much air defense the "Sky Rangers" are able to mount.
2) Reltseotu Smith, the dishonest journalist (which is a redundant phrase in the Diversity States), will enter a new phase in her career.
3) The political situation in the now-independent Hawaii will develop further, and we'll see Nalani Hahona and Cassandra Jefferson involved in it.
4) Dana, Mark and Whiplash will make a new friend among the Grange volunteers (not in Wyoming).
5) Brendan (the adult one, the Marine Corps veteran) will go on that secret mission to Switzerland.
6) Dan and Chilena will be cast as Lysander and Hermia in a (revisionist, of course) production of "A Midsummer Night's Dream."
Zella
New member
That sounds like a good theory. Poor Daffy.
Copperfox
Well-known member
Chapter 66: Chess Pieces Moving
Of all the Asian countries which had been annexed by China in recent years, Burma, also known as Myanmar, was the one for which the change had been the least injurious. The Burmese people had only just broken free at last from the military dictatorship under which they had suffered for a long time; and in consideration of their not resisting the takeover, Beijing had let them keep some of the freedoms they had won. Also, since by that time the Chinese had made more progress developing the technologies they had stolen from America, the annexed lands gained some benefit from these.
For Burma, the foremost feature of this technological progress was weather control. Although it was as energy-consuming for China to influence the weather as for any other nation, Beijing provided enough weather control to Burma to prevent the annual monsoons from devastating that nation's agriculture anymore. This benefitted the Chinese in turn, because they had done enough environmental damage to their own land that food imports were highly important. With Burmese farmland in good shape, Burmese crops of rice, beans and peas went a long way toward preventing serious hunger in China.
It was among growers of these crops, his own relatives and childhood friends, that Nyunt Zeyar spent some delicious liberty time. He even pitched in with farm work himself, though the money he earned in outer space and spent generously in his old village would have excused him in his family's eyes from getting into the mud with everyone else. His wife would have preferred him to spend more time in privacy with her, but she did understand how precious it was to him to be close to the Earth after spending many weeks orbiting above it.
Still, he kept in touch with the more sophisticated side of his existence, both because he liked knowing what went on in the capital and on the space station, and because he never forgot his approaching involvement in the secret army's mission to Switzerland. Thus, around the same time that Henry Spafford in Wyoming first met Yitzhak Rosenbaum, Nyunt Zeyar went to a military installation outside Rangoon, where he had clearance to use a secure fiber-optic telephone line. Calling at a pre-arranged time, he reached his friend Yang Sung-Kuo.
"Nyunt! I gather you've avoided being bitten by snakes in the fields?"
"So far, Major. How about all the two-legged snakes at the United Nations?"
"A more appropriate question than you realize. We had to arrest four members of the Babylonian delegation, for trying to assassinate the Parthian ambassadors to China and to the United Nations." Yang was referring to the Parthian Republic, an independent nation which consisted of part of the historic land area of Iran, containing ALL those survivors of the Iranian democracy movement who had not escaped to the West and the Pacific. Gaining Russian and Indian support at the time the Babylonian Caliphate was being formed, this breakaway nation had gotten a social shot in the arm as third-generation Iranian expatriates came back from America to strengthen it. Thus Parthia was now the partner of Indonesia, Morocco, the moderate Muslims in Greater China, and the Italian segment of the Islamic Realm of Europe, in constituting the moderate wing of Islam worldwide.
"Those Babylonians are the worst, aren't they?" said Nyunt.
"They have plenty of competition. They and their European counterparts both have cordial dealings with the Triad gangs. But let me tell you about something less grim: another occasion to laugh at the Americans. Do you know what is meant when Americans speak of a catfight?"
"That's when two women with no martial skills have a clumsy physical fight over some petty quarrel, isn't it?"
"More or less. While we've kept this out of the news media, only last night there was a LARGE catfight at that all-female nightclub on the outskirts of the capital..."
"You mean the Six Moons Grotto?"
"That's the one. Four women were fighting, two against two, and ALL of them were Diversity States diplomatic personnel! Seems as if they became infected with the same craziness as their labor unions back home--kinetic negotiations."
Even though already aware that the Diversity States was the laughing stock of the world, Nyunt was taken aback by this. His grandparents had remembered meeting Americans and Englishmen in Burma during the Second World War, and those men had been at once dutiful and humane. That the descendants of those men should sink to such absurdity as Major Yang was reporting was pathetic. It was not with any relish that Nyunt waited to hear the full account of the farce.
Of all the Asian countries which had been annexed by China in recent years, Burma, also known as Myanmar, was the one for which the change had been the least injurious. The Burmese people had only just broken free at last from the military dictatorship under which they had suffered for a long time; and in consideration of their not resisting the takeover, Beijing had let them keep some of the freedoms they had won. Also, since by that time the Chinese had made more progress developing the technologies they had stolen from America, the annexed lands gained some benefit from these.
For Burma, the foremost feature of this technological progress was weather control. Although it was as energy-consuming for China to influence the weather as for any other nation, Beijing provided enough weather control to Burma to prevent the annual monsoons from devastating that nation's agriculture anymore. This benefitted the Chinese in turn, because they had done enough environmental damage to their own land that food imports were highly important. With Burmese farmland in good shape, Burmese crops of rice, beans and peas went a long way toward preventing serious hunger in China.
It was among growers of these crops, his own relatives and childhood friends, that Nyunt Zeyar spent some delicious liberty time. He even pitched in with farm work himself, though the money he earned in outer space and spent generously in his old village would have excused him in his family's eyes from getting into the mud with everyone else. His wife would have preferred him to spend more time in privacy with her, but she did understand how precious it was to him to be close to the Earth after spending many weeks orbiting above it.
Still, he kept in touch with the more sophisticated side of his existence, both because he liked knowing what went on in the capital and on the space station, and because he never forgot his approaching involvement in the secret army's mission to Switzerland. Thus, around the same time that Henry Spafford in Wyoming first met Yitzhak Rosenbaum, Nyunt Zeyar went to a military installation outside Rangoon, where he had clearance to use a secure fiber-optic telephone line. Calling at a pre-arranged time, he reached his friend Yang Sung-Kuo.
"Nyunt! I gather you've avoided being bitten by snakes in the fields?"
"So far, Major. How about all the two-legged snakes at the United Nations?"
"A more appropriate question than you realize. We had to arrest four members of the Babylonian delegation, for trying to assassinate the Parthian ambassadors to China and to the United Nations." Yang was referring to the Parthian Republic, an independent nation which consisted of part of the historic land area of Iran, containing ALL those survivors of the Iranian democracy movement who had not escaped to the West and the Pacific. Gaining Russian and Indian support at the time the Babylonian Caliphate was being formed, this breakaway nation had gotten a social shot in the arm as third-generation Iranian expatriates came back from America to strengthen it. Thus Parthia was now the partner of Indonesia, Morocco, the moderate Muslims in Greater China, and the Italian segment of the Islamic Realm of Europe, in constituting the moderate wing of Islam worldwide.
"Those Babylonians are the worst, aren't they?" said Nyunt.
"They have plenty of competition. They and their European counterparts both have cordial dealings with the Triad gangs. But let me tell you about something less grim: another occasion to laugh at the Americans. Do you know what is meant when Americans speak of a catfight?"
"That's when two women with no martial skills have a clumsy physical fight over some petty quarrel, isn't it?"
"More or less. While we've kept this out of the news media, only last night there was a LARGE catfight at that all-female nightclub on the outskirts of the capital..."
"You mean the Six Moons Grotto?"
"That's the one. Four women were fighting, two against two, and ALL of them were Diversity States diplomatic personnel! Seems as if they became infected with the same craziness as their labor unions back home--kinetic negotiations."
Even though already aware that the Diversity States was the laughing stock of the world, Nyunt was taken aback by this. His grandparents had remembered meeting Americans and Englishmen in Burma during the Second World War, and those men had been at once dutiful and humane. That the descendants of those men should sink to such absurdity as Major Yang was reporting was pathetic. It was not with any relish that Nyunt waited to hear the full account of the farce.
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Copperfox
Well-known member
"As you know," said Major Yang, "some of the member states of the United Nations will appoint one person as ambassador both to the United Nations, and to Greater China, since the two are more nearly the same thing than would have been the case with the former host country. And where there are separate ambassadors, naturally the sending country wants those two persons to be persons who work well with each other. But it has amused Beijing, these last years, to see how it is with the Americans."
Though Yang would not see him doing this, Nyunt raised his eyebrows as high as the structure of his forehead allowed. "Are you telling me that Miss Ruiz and Miss Melville were part of this disturbance?"
"They were. The other two persons were Ambassador-At-Large Samantha Ford, and her aide Moonrose Quickpace."
"What would Ambassador Ruiz be doing at a nightclub, so soon after the shock of her own aide suddenly dying?"
Yang snorted. "Living for the moment, which is what most Americans do now. Since I became a Christian myself, I find it all the more preposterous, the way they've discarded what they once had. At any rate, this brawl was an indirect aftermath of Juanita Milagros' death...."
It was known to Yang's Burmese listener that Miss Bailey Melville, who had only recently replaced Benito Salazar as the Diversity States Ambassador to Greater China, had been the inseparable highschool companion of Carlota Ruiz, Diversity States Ambassador to the United Nations. This, of course, while the United States had still existed; but both girls had eagerly absorbed everything their Marxist-leaning teachers had told them about "the global village," and so had been eager to serve the Fairness Party regime once it took form. But by that point, Bailey and Carlota had no longer been inseparable, far from it. Upon starting college, Bailey Melville had betrayed her heterophobic feminist solidarity by liking a young MAN for awhile--which had alienated Carlota, even though the young man had had all the Marx-and-Gaia credentials you could ask for. Consequently, all through their swift rise in the ranks of the reorganized State Department, the two former "kindred spirits" had contrived never to serve closely together, even though Bailey had soon reaffirmed her devotion to extreme feminism. Upon Bailey's being posted in Beijing initially as an assistant to Ambassador Salazar, the two women had spoken directly to each other only when absolutely necessary.
Yang continued: "The unmasking of Juanita Milagros as a foreign agent, and her death by that suicide implant, did affect Miss Ruiz emotionally, even though her WAY of processing the grief may not impress you and me. At the same time, as it happened, Miss Melville had just lately discarded her most recent lover, and she decided that this was the time to mend fences with Miss Ruiz. Unfortunately, Samantha Ford had got it in HER head to comfort and console her colleague and former aide at the same time, and in the same place, as Bailey Melville was undertaking to do so. For the fourth player, Moonrose Quickpace tagged along, not very happy about Miss Ford's attentions being diverted to Miss Ruiz.
"At the Six Moons Grotto, once Miss Quickpace realized that Miss Melville wanted to claim Miss Ruiz's attention, she immediately and vocally supported that idea. But this put Miss Ford on her prideful high horse, all the more insistent that SHE ought to be the one commiserating with Miss Ruiz. For a moment--as our policewomen who were doing security at the club related it to me--it was a team debate, with Miss Ford and Miss Ruiz arguing on one side against Miss Melville and Miss Quickpace on the other side."
"So was that how the actual fight shaped up also?"
"Not if you mean Ford against Quickpace and Ruiz against Melville; because Miss Melville had no wish to raise a hand against Miss Ruiz, nor Miss Quickpace against Miss Ford. Still, the rising tempers called for SOME outlet. Our policewomen were completely caught off guard when a fight did ensue, since none of them thought those feeble-spirited American women had it in them. With all the other customers of the club crowding around to watch--and getting in the way of the officers--the altercation started with Miss Ford and Miss Melville flying at each other. Then Miss Ruiz tried to break it up, only to be attacked by Miss Quickpace. All of them fought as comically as you might expect from such weaklings: basically flailing their open hands at each other without aim or technique, shoving each other a bit, and flinging the odd fistful of food from the tables."
"Buddha's belly, let me see if I understand this," muttered Nyunt. "Miss Ford and Miss Melville were fighting each other for first claim to comfort Miss Ruiz in grieving; and at the SAME time, Miss Ruiz and Miss Quickpace were fighting each other over Miss Ford?"
"That's right. It bears out a fallacy the Americans have committed, when they decided that ALL possible human interactions had the same dynamics. In reality, not all relationships work the same way. If you militantly reject social companionship with members of the opposite sex, passing all your leisure time with like-minded persons of your own sex....then EVERY person in your social circle is potentially the rival of EVERY other one, FOR every other one's company. This enables a sort of chaos which is mathematically impossible for male-female socializing to equal."
Nyunt fleetingly recollected the rudeness Carlota Ruiz had shown him at The Orbital Palace; her unwarranted verbal insult to him had never led him to think she would ever be part of a physical brawl. "So are all four of them being deported from China?"
"Three of them are. Benito Salazar might even be reinstated in Miss Melville's place. Beijing says that Miss Ruiz is welcome to stay, because she was the only one of the four who tried to STOP the brawl. We want to show that we DON'T blindly assign equal blame to all parties in every conflict....even though we ourselves once intentionally encouraged Americans to adopt exactly that moral-equivalence thinking, in order to prevent them from finding the resolve to resist OUR global expansion. It worked against the United States, but we know better than to confuse our own minds with such foolishness."
Though Yang would not see him doing this, Nyunt raised his eyebrows as high as the structure of his forehead allowed. "Are you telling me that Miss Ruiz and Miss Melville were part of this disturbance?"
"They were. The other two persons were Ambassador-At-Large Samantha Ford, and her aide Moonrose Quickpace."
"What would Ambassador Ruiz be doing at a nightclub, so soon after the shock of her own aide suddenly dying?"
Yang snorted. "Living for the moment, which is what most Americans do now. Since I became a Christian myself, I find it all the more preposterous, the way they've discarded what they once had. At any rate, this brawl was an indirect aftermath of Juanita Milagros' death...."
It was known to Yang's Burmese listener that Miss Bailey Melville, who had only recently replaced Benito Salazar as the Diversity States Ambassador to Greater China, had been the inseparable highschool companion of Carlota Ruiz, Diversity States Ambassador to the United Nations. This, of course, while the United States had still existed; but both girls had eagerly absorbed everything their Marxist-leaning teachers had told them about "the global village," and so had been eager to serve the Fairness Party regime once it took form. But by that point, Bailey and Carlota had no longer been inseparable, far from it. Upon starting college, Bailey Melville had betrayed her heterophobic feminist solidarity by liking a young MAN for awhile--which had alienated Carlota, even though the young man had had all the Marx-and-Gaia credentials you could ask for. Consequently, all through their swift rise in the ranks of the reorganized State Department, the two former "kindred spirits" had contrived never to serve closely together, even though Bailey had soon reaffirmed her devotion to extreme feminism. Upon Bailey's being posted in Beijing initially as an assistant to Ambassador Salazar, the two women had spoken directly to each other only when absolutely necessary.
Yang continued: "The unmasking of Juanita Milagros as a foreign agent, and her death by that suicide implant, did affect Miss Ruiz emotionally, even though her WAY of processing the grief may not impress you and me. At the same time, as it happened, Miss Melville had just lately discarded her most recent lover, and she decided that this was the time to mend fences with Miss Ruiz. Unfortunately, Samantha Ford had got it in HER head to comfort and console her colleague and former aide at the same time, and in the same place, as Bailey Melville was undertaking to do so. For the fourth player, Moonrose Quickpace tagged along, not very happy about Miss Ford's attentions being diverted to Miss Ruiz.
"At the Six Moons Grotto, once Miss Quickpace realized that Miss Melville wanted to claim Miss Ruiz's attention, she immediately and vocally supported that idea. But this put Miss Ford on her prideful high horse, all the more insistent that SHE ought to be the one commiserating with Miss Ruiz. For a moment--as our policewomen who were doing security at the club related it to me--it was a team debate, with Miss Ford and Miss Ruiz arguing on one side against Miss Melville and Miss Quickpace on the other side."
"So was that how the actual fight shaped up also?"
"Not if you mean Ford against Quickpace and Ruiz against Melville; because Miss Melville had no wish to raise a hand against Miss Ruiz, nor Miss Quickpace against Miss Ford. Still, the rising tempers called for SOME outlet. Our policewomen were completely caught off guard when a fight did ensue, since none of them thought those feeble-spirited American women had it in them. With all the other customers of the club crowding around to watch--and getting in the way of the officers--the altercation started with Miss Ford and Miss Melville flying at each other. Then Miss Ruiz tried to break it up, only to be attacked by Miss Quickpace. All of them fought as comically as you might expect from such weaklings: basically flailing their open hands at each other without aim or technique, shoving each other a bit, and flinging the odd fistful of food from the tables."
"Buddha's belly, let me see if I understand this," muttered Nyunt. "Miss Ford and Miss Melville were fighting each other for first claim to comfort Miss Ruiz in grieving; and at the SAME time, Miss Ruiz and Miss Quickpace were fighting each other over Miss Ford?"
"That's right. It bears out a fallacy the Americans have committed, when they decided that ALL possible human interactions had the same dynamics. In reality, not all relationships work the same way. If you militantly reject social companionship with members of the opposite sex, passing all your leisure time with like-minded persons of your own sex....then EVERY person in your social circle is potentially the rival of EVERY other one, FOR every other one's company. This enables a sort of chaos which is mathematically impossible for male-female socializing to equal."
Nyunt fleetingly recollected the rudeness Carlota Ruiz had shown him at The Orbital Palace; her unwarranted verbal insult to him had never led him to think she would ever be part of a physical brawl. "So are all four of them being deported from China?"
"Three of them are. Benito Salazar might even be reinstated in Miss Melville's place. Beijing says that Miss Ruiz is welcome to stay, because she was the only one of the four who tried to STOP the brawl. We want to show that we DON'T blindly assign equal blame to all parties in every conflict....even though we ourselves once intentionally encouraged Americans to adopt exactly that moral-equivalence thinking, in order to prevent them from finding the resolve to resist OUR global expansion. It worked against the United States, but we know better than to confuse our own minds with such foolishness."
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