The First Love Of Alipang Havens

Henry did not make it to the winter pastures of the Rosenbaum and Ugarte families on the next day; there were too many households which detained him while they wrote letters for him to take away with him. But the last place he stopped gave him and Cochise lodging for the night, and this farm was already within the Greybull Valley.

This time, Henry DID dream about the mysterious Huldah in an erotic way. Consequently, as soon as he awoke from this dream, he prayed that he would keep his head when he met her.

He had not been travelling an hour before he saw the first sign. A painted sign, that is, made from a piece of plywood, with a direction arrow and the words: "Wanted -- An Apache Named Spafford. Right This Way." Sign in the other sense, footprints, showed where someone with large boots had come and put up the sign, possibly no more than an hour ago.

Unless the girl has larger feet than her father, thought Henry, she didn't put up this sign. Might have been Beltran Ugarte. Looks as if Huldah has a lot of people trying to help her land me. That is, unless it's a cruel trick on her by somebody who _doesn't_ like her. The fleeting thought of a deadly ambush with Huldah as bait crossed Henry's mind; but as ever, he knew that the Overseers didn't _need_ any such subterfuge if they wanted to celebrate the completion of an exile's life. So it surely was nothing any more homicidal than a matchmaking attempt by well-meaning neighbors.

Riding between two hills in the direction pointed by the sign, he eventually found another sign, which seemed to have been lettered by a different hand than the first. It said: "Keep Going, This Way To The Jewish-American Princess." This was an expression he had never encountered, but he guessed that, if Huldah had been the one to choose the expression to refer to herself, it would mean that she had the gift of not taking herself too seriously.

Half an hour after passing the second sign, Henry was unsure which way to go; there were various tracks of people and animals crossing the area he was now in, but in many directions. At this point, a familiar voice hailed him, the voice of his Basque friend Beltran: "Henry! Thank God you kept coming! Phoebe and I were going to be awfully embarrassed if all this didn't work!"

Beltran Ugarte came toward Henry on a set of cross-country skis. "I'm impressed by this," Henry told him. "How did you know the exact way I would be coming? Did the administration suddenly give you access to their satellite imagery?"

"Not hardly. Neighbors helped me; we set up signs along _every_ route you might come, all converging on your destination, and several of us have been watching for you. Huldah is waiting to meet you at the edge of the Kempers' land, _that_ way; you spoke to the Kempers by landline the night before last."

"Are they straight with the fact that I _haven't_ proposed to Huldah yet?"

"Yes, they are. I'm sorry someone started that rumor, I sure didn't. But please don't quit now; Huldah is bursting with curiosity about you. Look for a scent-block tent." Beltran was referring to a camping tent whose fabric stopped any smell of its contents from reaching the outside air, and put out a neutral vegetation-like smell which was of no interest to predators. Tents of this kind had been given out to rural exiles as a concession for their survival, before it had been decided to let them have hunting weapons.

Taking leave of the Basque shepherd, Henry rode on until he saw the tent he had been told to expect. One more sign stood just outside it: "Come In, Henry! There's A Space Heater!"

Dismounting, the Apache brave tethered his horse lightly to the nearest tree, then entered the tent.
 
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It was not very romantic of Henry to notice first of all the piece of camping equipment which occupied the center of the tent; but in his defense, his height forced him to stoop as he came in, which did angle his gaze downward. The device was a combination heater and lantern, its light shining upward to illuminate the tent as a whole. Henry's family owned two of these; they were solar-powered, and had to have ten hours of charging to enable three hours of use, but within their limitations they were useful.

"Welcome to the portable palace," said a rich, pleasing female voice, after giving Henry the single second he needed to take note of the heater-lantern. The Apache's eyes followed his ears, ascending up a female body clad in a foul-weather coverall outfit: not the best attire to show off her figure, but as far as he could tell, Huldah Rosenbaum was very well shaped.

Her face, at any rate, was in plain view, though subject to the eerie effect that always occurs when anyone's face is lighted from beneath. She had the long nose and glossy black hair which could occur in either a Sephardic Jew or a Khazar Jew; indeed, her father had previously informed Henry that his family had ancestors in both branches. The young huntsman, having a long nose and glossy black hair himself, could hardly find fault with these features. When Huldah smiled, he did not see how he could find ANY fault in her appearance, nor indeed in any aspect of her being at all....

...except as concerned the little matter of the nature and revelations of God.

"Sit down, please, an aching neck you'll get," the girl continued. When Henry did so, he could tell that she was considerably shorter than he, shorter in both torso and legs; but her proportions were exactly right. Henry struggled to remember the things he had had in mind to say to her.

"Uh, Miss Rosenbaum, I have to ask you to forgive me if I'm awkward. I have a lot more experience at killing bears than at meeting beautiful women, and I don't know what's supposed to happen now."

Huldah's smile was refreshed. "Well, the compliment's a good start. It certainly beats being told by Fairness Party zombies that, as a native of Israel, I personally am to blame for murdering hundreds of poor, innocent Hamas members who were only playing with paintball guns. But now you forgive me, I'm being even less romantic than you with the bears. Anyway, speaking of wild animals...." She leaned over the heater-lantern, caught hold of Henry's right hand, tugged the glove off it, then pulled the hand toward her face and kissed it. Her face had become solemn. "Whatever else happens or doesn't happen, thank you for saving my father's life." She kept hold of his hand for an extra instant, then released it and sat back.

Henry's eyes wavered between looking into her eyes and avoiding them. "You're welcome. He doesn't seem very happy with the life I saved for him; but, um, he seems to have hit on something that would make him happier..."

Her smile returned. "And he put you on the spot with what he assumed. I'm sorry for that; you deserve better than to be embarrassed. But maybe I can help there. You see, by the nature of modern conditions in America, I've had more dealings with Christians in here than you've had with Jews. The Ugartes in particular have modelled the best of Christian conduct for me; I believe I understand them better than my father does. And what Father has reported to me of his time with you has carried my understanding further, because you spoke more frankly with him about your faith than Beltran and Phoebe have ever felt they could."

Henry finally could smile also. "You and I both have ancestral histories which make it natural for well-meaning Christians to want to handle us delicately. Fake Christians have done harm both to Jewish people and to Native Americans."

Huldah's eyes peered into Henry's more intently. "But your ancestors, from Quicker-Than-Snake onward, embraced Yeshua of Nazareth all the same. That had to be because they found something genuine there after all. In today's climate, no earthly advantage you get from staying Christian; so a solid conviction it has to be."

"It is. I will die before I betray my Savior."

"And awkward this is for you, sitting here with me. But I said I could help. Something important I've been waiting to tell you, Henry Spafford. You remember telling my father that it was _less_ of a distortion of God's character to say that He could split Himself into three parts, than to say that He was evil. Well, you know what? You were right!

"So immersed in his grievances Father is, that he can't step outside himself to see the flaws in his logic. But I can see. It's a mental block that goes at least as far back as Maimonides: he was so frantic to deny the Trinity idea, that he made up a nonsense distinction, with God having 'essence' instead of 'existence,' because that way he thought he could prove that the Trinity was absurd...."

Henry felt something like suspense. What the Apostle Paul had written in Second Corinthians, about people having a veil blocking their minds from seeing the truth about Jesus, was exactly what Huldah was identifying in her father and in the medieval Jewish philosopher, if she understood it. He dared not speak too soon.

"In fairness to Maimonides," the girl went on, "he lived at a time when the institutional church gave him no cause to believe that the Trinity doctrine was producing any moral goodness in anyone. But I, Huldah Rosenbaum, have been seeing for years how true Christians conduct themselves in adversity; and by the fruit you bear, I think there _might_ be truth in your faith. Are you surprised that I say so?"

Henry took a long breath. "Honestly, I am; but it's the happiest surprise I've had in a long time, even beating out my new hunting bow. Sorry, that sounded stupid."

"No, it didn't. My ancient ancestors were also into archery. And I'm glad that something about me pleases you."

Another long breath. "Miss Rosenbaum, _everything_ about you pleases me. Your spiritual openness even more than your physical beauty and your sense of humor. But you know what? Human nature is flawed enough to confuse, uh, the different areas, when emotions are excited. Would it be all right if we went to the Kempers' house now, and continued this conversation with other people present? Because in plain fact, I am feeling so attracted to you right now, that I want to be sure I don't make an idiot of myself."

Huldah laughed. "That's already closer to a marriage proposal than I was expecting to hear from you today! Yes, let's go to the Kempers' house to talk theology. I walked out here, after Mr. Ugarte set up the tent for me; but could I ride on your horse with you to the farmhouse? You know, to make it look good?"

"Of course... Huldah."

"At first names we are already--excellent!" Gesturing for him to re-open the tent's doorflap, she switched off the heater-lantern. Before long, he was hoisting her onto Cochise, and (to show off a bit) leaping into the saddle behind her without touching a stirrup. Once they were in motion, Huldah slightly upped the physical ante by leaning back against Henry, and murmured, "A good idea it is, not being alone together at length just now. On top of already owing you gratitude, now I get to see that you're both handsome and courteous; and I'm flesh and blood also."


 
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The next chapter brings the narrative action back to Alipang. I still need to do some planning for this one, because something VERY crucial to the overall plot has to happen.

Meanwhile, I confess that the story just keeps growing! That's because this novel is not just about what happens in one town, it's about what happens TO the whole WORLD. Thus, readers are probably suffering information overload. I can't help it, the story has a life of its own by now, and compels me to develop multiple plotlines. Therefore, to help my readers, here are the locations of some of my past story-summaries: Pages 85, 97, 103, 108, 115, 126 and 135.
 
(Okay, not INSTANTLY back to Alipang)

Chapter 78: Not A Dull January

On his first working day after a short leave with Melody and Baby Douglas, Emilio Vasquez was back at the controls of a helicopter: not one of the Great Condors he was itching to fly, but at least a larger model than his usual compact patrol chopper. This one had the counter-rotating co-axial rotors which had become the dominant airfoil arrangement on helicopters worldwide. Emilio had a co-pilot up front with him, one of the other type of Rangers, a Diversity States Forest Ranger named Fred Yoshiwara. Behind them were two women, one of each Ranger type; the female Forest Ranger was an African-American called Lyra Bender, while the Texan was Emilio's acquaintance Zella Greenlee. Each woman was armed with a heavy long-range version of the infrasonic-bomblet launchers that were common to federal-district police forces for non-lethal subdual.

Flying out of Amarillo, they headed for the Palo Duro Canyon Wilderness Preserve, one of those no-human-use regions in which the Forest Rangers actually enjoyed their logical jurisdiction. Only after they entered the preserve's airspace did Forest Ranger Yoshiwara tell Emilio and Zella exactly what the mission was, speaking through the secure helmet radios:

"Except for the luxury resort on Timber Mesa, where the Party elite entertains foreign guests, there isn't supposed to be any human habitation in the canyon. But there IS someone trespassing there, near Capitol Mesa. The Chinese imagery people who give Washington access to their satellite views determined the day before yesterday that there was a highly sophisticated holographic array at work, maintaining the illusion of natural scenery with no artificial structures. Their first tipoff was visually acquiring some suspects venturing OUT of their coverage. So then they looked for heat signatures and magnetic anomalies; and soon they were certain that the projected illusion was hiding a fair-sized, partly underground structure, big enough to house at least ten persons comfortably. They alerted Washington, and the word was passed to the Forestry Service, with an okay to bring you district authorities in on it."

"Fusing this with intelligence accumulated by the Marshals' Service, the Commerce Inspectors and the Transport Police," added Lyra Bender, "we became convinced that this hideout is being used by some of the criminals who were involved in planning the recent ground attacks on the Texas Rangers, including the attack that claimed Vice-Commandant Sotero."

"Then can we kill them instead of just knocking them out?" asked Zella.

Ignoring her, Yoshiwara resumed: "The infrasonic ordnance should send waves clean through the shelter, incapacitating everyone inside. Then we land and make the bust."

"And this time," growled Emilio, "will WE get to do some meaningful questioning, instead of handing the perps over to the D.S. Marshals and never finding out anything?"

Forest Ranger Bender leaned closer to Emilio--a purely psychological gesture, since it was the helmet radios that made her audible to the pilot. "Fred and I asked to be allowed to work this arrest, because WE think you Texans have had a raw deal. So yes, one way or another, YOU will get to ask real questions. And if the crooks happen to stumble and fall down on their noses during questioning, too bad for them."

Most of the time, Emilio did NOT like it that crime suspects no longer had protection against self-incrimination. In this one instance, however, after frustrating months of incomplete information, he was going to find out something from the lawbreakers in that hideout, if he had to rip off their ears.

 
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The g.p.s. in the Texas Ranger helicopter had been provided with the exact location reported by the Chinese. Approaching it, Emilio hugged the terrain--bristling as it was with juniper and mesquite trees--with an unforgiving closeness. The two Forest Rangers were uneasy at Emilio's stunt flying, but Zella understood that he was guarding against the other perils: that the gangsters in the camouflaged bungalow might have anti-aircraft weapons, or less dramatically, that they might simply escape through tunnels if they spotted the chopper coming.

When only one hill remained between them and the objective, Emilio executed a plan he had thought up enroute. Landing temporarily, with his rotors still turning, he had the two women with the infrasonic launchers get out and climb up the near slope as far as they safely could. From there, guided by what the g.p.s. told of the exact location to aim for on the other side, they aimed their weapons high and shot clean over the hilltop, like howitzer fire. As soon as each woman had fired three infrasonic projectiles, they ran back to the helicopter; once they were securely inside, Emilio took to the air again, coming right over the top of the hill.

The next step was also covered by his quickly-devised plan. Fred Yoshiwara temporarily took control of the aircraft, purposely ignoring what his eyes could see outside the cockpit. Going entirely by down-looking active radar, the Forest Ranger airman took them in a circle above the criminals' hideout. As he did so, Emilio and the women were watching the holographic landscape, seeing what features of the fake scenery corresponded with the perimeter of the sunken building. This done, Emilio resumed control, and made two passes over the objective, in which he banked the helicopter enough to facilitate the women shooting down at the structure--first Lyra on her side, then Zella on hers.

Enough infrasonic shock-bomblets were delivered, that by all rights everyone inside the shelter should be well stunned. No signs of resistance appeared, so Fred called out the situation to both listening chains of command, and Emilio set the helicopter down.

It was at moments like these that Emilio Vasquez almost regretted being a flyer; for by procedure, he was the one who had to stay on board in case it became necessary for any reason to take the helicopter aloft in a hurry. Fred, Zella and Lyra drew their handguns, got out, and walked right through non-existent trees and rocks to the entrance of the hideout. Forcing the door, they went in; and soon, to Emilio's relief, they reported back that all suspects were indeed rendered harmless. They also reported that the place had a hefty supply of armaments, though none seemed to be specifically anti-aircraft. Emilio called for backup to collect the prisoners, on whom Fred, Zella and Lyra were placing restraint strips.

When the trio returned to the waiting helicopter, Zella was carrying two dataphones taken off two of the captured felons. Emilio grabbed them, delighted to have a further part to play with his cyber-warfare knowledge. Connecting both phones to the helicopter's cryptological console, he set it to analyzing everything in them. After two minutes of this, his eyes went wide, and he put an urgent call through on his most secure channel, straight to Commandant Pierce at headquarters.

"Commandant, this is Vasquez. We recovered two dataphones from the suspects...and both of the phones have been in recent and frequent communication with a private comm-center used by....Chief Justice Sherman Lake."
 
It was around this time that Peter Tomisaburo, away from his house ostensibly to cut firewood, was visited by the expected micro-drone. It was not literally microscopic, but very small, being in the shape of a wren. When it took a perch in his sight and uttered its musical recognition signal, the deep cover agent for Greater China hastily glanced all around, then began his report without wasted words.

"The Agriculture Undersecretary, to my knowledge, is taking no part in investigating irregularities by the Campaign Against Hate; she has been pursuing her own amusement, always accompanied by the former Pinkshirt woman whom she recruited onto her own staff. But the Energy Undersecretary has actually made use of her colleague's idleness, by making it her pretext to meet often with the Agriculture Ombudsmen as well as the Energy ones. John Wisebadger, in particular, has been often in her company. Most lately, however, Mister Wisebadger has been leading a large hunting party against numbers of bears that have been roused out of hibernation by some cause--this disruption of animal routine seeming always to occur in the most mountainous areas within Wyoming Sector. Some of what is going on becomes known to me because of landline phone communications among the Grange Halls, which friends tell me about because they know no reason not to. I recommend increased attention to overhead imagery on those highland areas, to see what new human activities might be in progress. It is possible that Tuck Faraday, Halberd Meteor and Ralph Durgan, already known for underhanded actions, will be seen in one or more of those areas. Faraday, at least, once came by the construction site I worked on in the town of Kaycee.

"Besides the large party of Grange hunters led by the Wyoming Agriculture Ombudsman, smaller teams have been used to widen the sweep. My neighbor Alipang Havens has been in one of these teams, paired with a Grange man named Chung Sun Kim. Whoever drew up the composition of the parties was keeping the more dissident sorts like Alipang separated, spread out. Thus Gabe Ellison, who shares with Alipang the friendship of Henry Spafford, is working in a team far removed from Alipang. Since the Energy Undersecretary has no animosity toward Alipang, I believe that this dispersal is not intended to keep exiles like him quiet, but rather to spread them out more, to increase the chance of their finding out something.

"Meanwhile, numerous ordinary persons who are acquainted with Alipang--many of them dental patients of his--have been asking all around if anyone has really concretely seen any sign of the so-called Ku Klux Quakers. As far as I have gathered, not one of them has turned up any evidence of Ku Klux Quakers being real; yet many of them have heard Overseers talking as if the Ku Klux Quakers DO exist. Relatively greater restrictions on the exile population in Rapid City, even with the holidays past, are still being justified by alleged worries about violent fanatics at large.

"There have been very few murders of exiles by Overseers in the Enclave since the killing of the child Eva Lederburg in Nebraska Sector. I suspect that Nash Dockerty is using this buildup of artificial concern about Ku Klux Quakers to provide justification before the fact, for some atrocity he WANTS to commit."

Peter Tomisaburo knew enough about the Deputy Commander of the Campaign Against Hate, to know that there were few if any persons against whom the Deputy Commander would more happily commit atrocities, than against Alipang Havens. Peter had not forgotten how Alipang had stood in spiritual strength against Dockerty's juvenile threats inside Sussex Gospel Church; and Dockerty, in his megalomaniac pride, would not have forgotten being shown up as a stupid blowhard. Peter didn't want Alipang to be a target of the chief bully's cowardly revenge; but he knew that Beijing would not be worried about the life of one Filipino-American. (And Yang Sung-Kuo, who would have cared about Alipang's life, would never get to hear this report.) So in his next offering of recommendations, Peter had to make his concern seem like more than protecting an individual friend.

"It remains true that China cannot absolutely disregard world opinion. America's Overseer system exists because China caused it to exist; thus, if the high officers of that system abuse their power for purposes of personal malice, without any motivation favoring the public order, it reflects negatively on China, without China gaining any benefit in return. Accordingly, I suggest that our diplomatic corps take measures to put a stop to the irresponsible misconduct of Deputy Commander Dockerty.

"There is an easy way. Recall that, at the same time as Major Yang was here in the Enclave, his Australian companion Bert Randall became aware of an exile woman being held in degrading enslavement by none other than Dockerty. Randall contrived to get the woman released from this servitude, and married her. As they now live in Australia, Ma'at Randall is out of reach of Nash Dockerty; but HE is not out of reach of HER testimony. If our government were to invite her to tell her story to journalists, especially to the hard-feminist media of the D.S.A. itself, the Trevette administration could be embarrassed into expelling Dockerty from his post. And removing him, non-lethally, might be all that is needed to improve the situation here, which in turn would strengthen Beijing's ability to go on saying it was right to sponsor the American internal-exile system.

"But I am not minimizing the mystery of unknown activities in the mountains within the Enclave, nor the mystery of tampering with the Enclave power grid, which Dockerty appears to have ordered. There is only so much I can find out about that. But it might be helpful to contact the air service of the Texas Rangers. Their daring to send a helicopter inside the Enclave may attest to their holding a stronger position in the D.S.A. than they ever have up to now. While the Overseers don't seem happy about that recent visit, the Transport Police and the Forest Rangers apparently have no objections to it at all. Inter-agency discord is at work here; the Campaign Against Hate is sure to prove the most guilty party, and within the Enclave, also the most isolated party, since they seem to be alienating everyone else.

"That is the state of my information to the present."

After the mechanical wren flew away, Peter vaguely prayed--as was appropriate to a half-formed notion of faith--for the safety of Alipang Havens. If Alipang did fall victim to foul play...it would be hard for Peter NOT to start looking for a chance to cut Nash Dockerty in half with his micro-whip.

 
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Though school vacation was in effect in Australia, Meretseger and Montu Randall were busy anyway, having personal meetings--thanks to their new father's talent for making things happen--with teachers who would presently be facilitating their education in a virtual-school network. Consequently, it was not hard for a visitor from the Diversity States to find a time when he could call Bert and Ma'at and be able to meet with them in private at their bungalow.

The tall, athletic-looking visitor was no one either of them had ever met before; but he proved to be a personal friend of the American internal exile Alipang, named Richard Pelham. When a lighter-than-air ship delivered him to their home, the first thing he said to them face to face was:

"Dr. Havens was one of my best friends in high school; he helped me understand higher mathematics. Although he now lives inside the fence and I've been able to stay outside it, my business today is something which affects persons living in the Enclave. Let me give the eye to your home computer console, and it will show you my credentials." When Pelham set his eye against Bert's iris-reader, the monitor announced him to be an employee of the D.S. Department of Sustainable Energy, authorized to speak for that department as concerned events in the Western Enclave.

Noting this fact, Bert Randall declared, "You've got my attention, friend. What's your errand?"

"Only to ask you to go ahead and do something we know you've contemplated: setting up a time for your wife to testify against Campaign Against Hate Deputy Commander Nash Dockerty, for human trafficking."

"I've just been waiting for that chance," Ma'at assured the visitor. "But what _aspect_ of the situation caused one department of the Trevette administration to send you to urge me to testify against another department?"

"The reason I'm here is that the Energy Undersecretary for the Enclave believes that Nash Dockerty intends to murder one or more exiles, under circumstances which _even_ the Fairness Party wouldn't approve; and she regards Alipang Havens as the number-one target for Dockerty's malice. On top of that, she also has cause to think that the Deputy Commander is behind a plot to sabotage, or steal control of, the electrical output of the Enclave's power stations--which would be a potent weapon, if someone giving orders to Dockerty, or even Dockerty himself on his own, were attempting to set up a palace revolution."

Bert frowned in thought. "Yeah, get the peasants terrified by blackouts, and then make himself the rescuer on a white horse."

"The Undersecretary used her own most secure channels to ask her boss in Washington to select a suitable courier to come here and see you. I was known to be a friend of Alipang's, thus motivated to protect him from harm--and at the same time, a sufficiently _unimportant_ worker that my movements could be kept uninteresting in the eyes of corrupt law-enforcement figures. I am prepared to facilitate Mrs. Randall getting a prompt hearing both with the Hemispheric Union and with the United Nations."

"You want to discredit that louse Dockerty in a hurry, so he'll be put out of office _before_ he snuffs Alipang, eh? Well, I'm all for that. Let's be about whatever you have planned; when you get back to the States, your department will be satisfied that you got results fast."

"Actually, I won't be going back to the D.S.A.," the man once known as Brickpile explained. "I've already been a bit of a nonconformist there, and this move against the Pinkshirts could get my completion celebrated. Once I've done my part to protect Alipang, I'm going to accept asylum in the Mexican Alliance. Your friend Santiago Sanchez is involved in that part."

"All right, let's get started with whatever's needed," said Ma'at, sliding her arms around her husband. "Protect a good man, punish a bad one, and get on with our lives with a clear conscience."
 
Close to the time when Peter Tomisaburo reported to the drone, mere hours after the two types of Rangers had turned up the incriminating dataphones, the end of Sherman Lake's judicial career was decreed--with no appeal, indeed with no prior notice for the corrupt Supreme Court Justice.

Propaganda journalist Neutron Invincible heard about it before anyone in the system of courts and marshals did. In the middle of preparations for the next day's installment of "The Glance," she was summoned to the offices of Secretary of Indoctrination Arista Penfield. Once there, she found that other establishment puppet-journalists had also been summoned--even one _male_ reporter, the sufficiently-effeminate Fluttery Madsen.

"Welcome, comrades, the collective is all," Ms. Penfield uttered by way of a greeting. "Before you leave this room, a short-term hypno-compulsion will be administered to each of you. It will require you to _avoid_ talking about what you heard here to anyone not belonging to the Department of Indoctrination. Especially not to law-enforcement personnel of other branches. A secret cabal within the court system has corrupted some of our own Overseers, and it is vitally necessary that the Campaign Against Hate be seen to clean its own house, not needing other authorities to intervene. Rather, it will be OUR officers who intervene, to root out the rotten apples who started the trouble. Above all, Chief Justice Lake."

Gesturing for permission to speak, Fluttery Madsen asked, "Does this have something to do with his arbitration of kinetic negotiations between labor unions?"

The Secretary of Indoctrination gave a nod. "It does. Sherman Lake has been enriching himself by extorting money from the unions; and Justice Fatima Ruskin has been an accomplice to him, as were Operations Marshal Barbara Weckerling and Deputy Marshal Vinu Dandekar. Dandekar has escaped from the country; but the other three are being taken into custody even as we speak, by Valery Khloponin's enforcers." Arista Penfield left unspoken the fact that Justice Wanda Shang was also a perpetrator; she would be allowed to buy her own pardon by testifying against the others, because she was a friend and occasional lover of the highly-favored Trip Conklin.

"Are there other charges against them?" said Neutron Invincible.

"Yes, and far worse." The Secretary looked solemn. "A complex investigation, in whose culmination the Forest Rangers have played a role, has determined that a past report by an Aztlano source was true. SHERMAN LAKE WAS PLANNING TO OVERTHROW THE PRESIDENT AND MAKE HIMSELF SOLE RULER OF THE DIVERSITY STATES."

There was a gratifying gasp from all over the room. Neutron was first to say something coherent.

"He would have needed more than money to do that."

"Very true; and he had a terrible weapon up his sleeve. He had a well-formed plan to take over control of America's electrical power grid, thus forcing capitulation to his demands. And here is the main point of my saying that we have to clean our own house. That portion of Lake's operation which was going on inside the Western Enclave was managed for him.... by Deputy Commander Nash Dockerty."

Startled by this disclosure, one of the Indoctrination workers in attendance talked out of turn, asking, "Is Dockerty being seized also?"

"Not yet. We want to understand his part in the conspiracy better before we arrest him. Those who are being arrested immediately, are being arrested in such a way that the proletariat generally will not know what happened. This is why you indoctrinators have been summoned. For at least two more days, we intend to keep it secret that arrests have been made. Nash Dockerty, and some other accomplices, will be allowed to believe that they are still safe, unsuspected. For this purpose, you journalists will work with my office to generate creative news features, complete with computer-generated images of the Chief Justice. He will seem to be going about his business.... when he will actually be confined in a sub-basement cell of this building, with drugs and brain-scans ensuring that we find out every secret he was hiding."

Now Rhoda Gardner spoke up. "Once it's all right to let the collective know that Lake has been arrested, will you want us to tell our audiences that he was trying to bring back Christian theocracy?"

"Hold off on that," Ms. Penfield instructed her. "Dockerty may be causing us embarrassment by a clumsy attempt to accuse Quakers of terrorism; thus, we might do better to skip the Nazi-Christian angle this time around. There'll be other times when we can use it again."
 
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Chapter 79: Moro in Moderation


A sunny day dawned in the Nebraska Sector, mellowing the chill somewhat. The turn in the weather was timely; for Daffodil Ford, Bailey Melville and Moonrose Quickpace had managed to persuade some exile families with school-aged children to come out to a pre-Enclave athletic field and watch a little demonstration.

"I'm going to glitch this," Bailey groaned; "I never played soccer before." Her having fought a physical brawl with Daffodil's mother in Beijing had _still_ not come up in conversation with her boy boss, but she worried about displeasing him.

"It's all right," soothed Moonrose, leaning over to side-hug her. "Don't forget, in Equalityball everyone else holds back for the _slowest_ player."

"That's right," Daffodil affirmed. "It's about the oneness." He gestured to the two male Pinkshirts who had joined them on the snow-carpeted field. "Tommy and Fouad here have both played competitive soccer, but they know to slow their pace to match us. Now, is everyone ready? Our audience is waiting!" He now signalled an exile man on the sidelines, who was holding a rolled-cardboard megaphone. That man, seeming to get into an announcer's mood, faced the spectators and shouted, "Plaaaaaayyyy Equalitybaaaaaallll!!!"

Two men, two women and a teenage boy, with five soccer balls before them, began moving along the length of the field in as good a unison as they could manage. They made it to the far end with Bailey only three paces behind the others; Daffodil kept the rest waiting for Bailey to catch up, and they went the other way. By the second pass along the field, Bailey was doing better at keeping up, or the others were doing better at holding back for her. Returning to the starting end, they were almost perfectly synchronized as they turned again. A third length of the field saw them really moving as one.

The fourth, fifth and sixth lengths of the field added nothing further of interest; but the exiles went on watching, for they understood that this was nowhere near as bad as some things the authorities might have imposed on them. When the demonstration was completed, Daffodil thanked Tommy and Fouad, saying they need not hang around. With no Pinkshirts lingering, the exiles did in fact seem a bit more at ease; and the three "internal diplomats" had a no-pressure discussion with them about having their children try Equalityball.

As the meeting was breaking up, and Bailey and Moonrose were sharing an embrace to congratulate themselves (mostly Bailey) on not making any gross blunders, Daffodil was startled by his dataphone signalling him of an incoming text message. Not just any text, either; it was coming on the ultra-secure channel that Vice-President Carlos Anselmo had set up for him. It said:

A caution to you and the ladies. Do not be alone with Campaign Against Hate personnel if you can avoid it. Find excuses to be around other law enforcement. I'm getting more of those others into the Enclave as fast as I can.

Daffodil froze...shook himself...glanced around to be sure the two Pinkshirts had left...and came close to the women in as nonchalant-looking a manner as he could contrive. When he showed the text to them, they controlled their own reactions, though Moonrose did grip the boy's shoulder. He then let them see him typing a reply to Mr. Anselmo:

Thanks for warning. Have not told you this up to now, but when ladies flew in, they saw Overseers shoot five people, firing squad style, at airport.

The boy caught the eyes of both his companions; each woman nodded in turn, so he sent the message to the Vice President.

"There are some Transport Police we can go to," whispered Moonrose. "We can ostensibly be talking with them about transportation arrangements for future Equalityball tournaments."

As of this moment, the two women felt closer to Daffodil, and he to them, than had so far been the case.


 
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Men! Sorry Copperfox...I was late, never been reading for a longtime on this thread. Just quite busy for months, now I'm logging behind. I'm only in chapter 32! :eek:
 
It had been a lengthy and productive bear hunt. Alipang and Chung Sun Kim had taken part in slaying three grizzlies and four black bears; their sizeable shares of the meat were bundled behind their saddles as they rode up to the Spafford homestead. All three of the daughters, plus the boy Spencer, were outside breaking up small dead branches for kindling as the Grange men approached. Leah ran to knock on the door of her big brother's workshop-cabin. "Henry! Alipang's here with one of the other hunters!"

Henry, who had been repairing some saddle tack, emerged from his door wearing the biggest smile Alipang could remember ever seeing on the tall Apache. "Alipang! And Sun-Kim, is it?"

"Ah-nyung," the Korean greeted Henry in return. "It was a good hunt; but we had to be careful not to shoot Tan-Gun's wife."

"What?" Henry stood slackjawed.

"Sorry, Korean mythology. Tan-Gun was our ancient founding hero. He met a she-bear, magically changed her into a human being, and then married her. I suppose he figured that fur coats would be no novelty to her, so she wouldn't pressure him to buy her one."

"Don't let the Department of Distribution hear you talking about unauthorized luxury items," Alipang jokingly warned his companion, then dismounted and went to shake Henry's hand. "So tell me, chief, have YOU magically transformed any females lately?"

"GOD is working on one. I guess you knew I was visiting Huldah Rosenbaum."

"Who didn't know? My Dad had to talk Miguel De Soto out of devoting a whole edition of the Observer to nothing but the romantic gossip."

"So is there anything about it from the Apache observer?" asked Sun Kim, also dismounting.

"Progress. Bitter though Yitzhak is against God, he has proven LESS hostile to my talking with Huldah about Jesus than the Overseers might be. After all, they care about Jewish people's feelings only JUST long enough to tell Christians to shut up, and then it's back to their own Jew-bashing. Huldah certainly realizes this, and she gave me a fair hearing on every point." While Henry was saying this, his parents also showed themselves, coming up to shake hands with the new arrivals.

"If she were already a believer in Jesus by now," remarked Alipang, "you would have told us. But will you be seeing her again?"

"Yes, no later than first week in February. She herself came up with one point that was relevant. The day she and her Dad met Mr. Randall from Australia, their sheep had gotten onto a railroad track, and a Transport cop was for killing the hoofstock. But Randall said it was his own fault that they were there, said that he had interfered with Yitzhak; then he got the sheep moved out of the train's way. Huldah could figure out for herself that Randall taking the blame for someone else's mistake, when he didn't have to, was a parallel of sorts to what we say about the work of Jesus. That was really sticking in her memory."

Sun Kim smiled. "Sounds as if the Holy Spirit stuck it there." This Korean was familiar with such things; his father had been a Korean Presbyterian pastor, before being murdered by the Pinkshirts during the Fairness Party's takeover.

"By the way, Henry," said Alipang, "we met the farmers you gave your own bear to. They said it had paint on its fur. One of the grizzlies we took also showed signs of having been around manmade materials. Energy and Agriculture are pushing hard for information on any building projects that could have been going on at Overseer orders in the areas where those bears were awakened from hibernation."

Henry frowned for the first time in this conversation. "I hope the Undersecretaries don't get themselves in trouble by poking around."

"Their position is getting stronger. You'll want to meet Kostas Demophilos, one of the new Forest Rangers assigned inside the fence. He and Mark and Dana are staying on the horn to expedite more Forest Rangers coming in; and the more I see and hear, the more I'm convinced that no one in the Forestry Service has any use for Pinkshirts and mirror-men."

"Transport Police don't like the Overseers either," offered Sun Kim.

"Then we need to pray that we all get through the next few days intact," said Alipang. "After that, we might ACTUALLY see conditions getting better. At least, if whatever secret project woke up those bears doesn't turn out to be a Doctor Strangelove doomsday device."

"Strangelove?" echoed Henry. "Who's that?"

"Just an old movie reference. To a terribly overrated movie. But Slim Pickens was cool, riding the bomb. Anyway, we'll hope for the best. After all, why would God hit us all with a new disaster, just when you seem to have a new girlfriend? "

 
The train on which Daffodil and "his girls" rode back up to Rapid City had a Transport policeman on board. The three diplomats felt better staying in the same car he was in; and when they neared their destination, Daffodil asked him to call up the ranking officer of his force in the Enclave capital. That proved to be Lieutenant Carmen Delgado, the same woman who had been supervising the air-dispatch station at the time Emilio Vasquez had flown into Casper. Reaching her, Daffodil asked, almost begged, to be allowed to meet with her this very evening, to talk about future prospects for helping large numbers of exiles to travel between sectors for non-competitive sporting events. Daffodil, Moonrose and Bailey all breathed easier when the Transport lieutenant agreed to meet their train.

Just before they pulled into the railway terminal, Daffodil received another secure text message from the Vice President:

Have determined who those terminated persons were: simply some Biblicals, freshly arrived the same day your aides saw them shot; just like ones in Enclave, only Khloponin judged them especially bad troublemakers. He has been having Overseers do this periodically as long as Enclave has existed. Says that way not necessary to kill as many among the exile population.

Lieutenant Delgado, a young enough woman and not bad-looking, ended up joining Daffodil's party for supper at the Black Hills Lodge. The boy and both his aides used every excuse to keep her talking, and to make the conversation sound as if there were some substance to it--some grand breakthrough in civilizing the God-fascists. When supper and dessert were past and the diplomats were still talking, Carmen showed them she had been reading between the lines, and suddenly whispered to them: "Any listener is probably bored to sleep with us by now. I know you're uneasy; I get uneasy here, too. I _know_ there's no such scragging thing as Ku Klux Quakers, and I know the fat man would throw his mother inside a reactor core if it would advance his career. Don't worry, my people are keeping an eye on things, and you three folks count as things."

"Is Washington going to do anything about the fat man?" asked Bailey, picking up on Carmen Delgado's way of referring to Nash Dockerty.

"Incrementally. All of you know about the big recycling plant being set up in Nebraska Sector. Department of Distribution is using this as an excuse, at long last, to bring some of _their_ muscle inside the Enclave. With Commerce Inspectors present in force in that sector, we Transport cops, plus the Forest Rangers, will be able to concentrate our officers more in the other three sectors. With a bit of karma, we'll all be okay until some cleanup happens at higher levels of the Party structure."

"Pardon my saying this," put in Moonrose, "but do you think the three of us could just go _outside_ the Enclave for a few days? Maybe to confer with somebody about our progress among the Biblicals?"

"We were never _told_ that we couldn't ever do that," agreed Bailey.

Carmen hesitated to give an opinion on this; but Daffodil suddenly felt something telling him: This is your chance to do something remotely in the neighborhood of being brave. "As long as not all of us leave at the same time, I expect it won't seem like running away. Lieutenant, would you please assist Bailey and Moonrose with travel arrangements for a short furlough? I'll stay, and keep on having meetings with people, while they maintain the appearance of having conferences outside, by _actually_ having conferences outside."

All three women stared at Daffodil as if seeing him for the first time--which in Carmen's case was almost literally true anyway. But Bailey and Moonrose looked as if they were seeing something in the boy that they had long convinced themselves was not really to be found in any male.

A hint, at least a nascent hint, of something... noble.

 
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That night, shortly before they went to sleep, Nash Dockerty vented some feelings to Osmawani Jalil.

"I don't like it that I haven't heard from Sherman Lake, Fatima Ruskin or Wanda Shang today. Not that they ever did contact me _every_ day, but it feels different now. After the way we got humiliated last November, and now with our exclusive hold on law enforcement being taken away, I would've expected them to coordinate with me more continuously, to be sure of keeping damage to a minimum. Still more so, with Energy and Agriculture poking for clues about our new installations--and so close to completion! Another three weeks, I estimated, and we would have had serious air-defense assets in place, ready to shoot down any meddlers, like those blasted Texas Rangers..."

Osmawani caressed him persistently as he was talking, then found her opening to speak: "You need to trust Chief Justice Lake; he's a sharp dealer, always has been. He'll have a plan. An airheaded club-goer like Jessica Trevette can't match wits with him; neither can a dull, business-as-usual bureaucrat like Carlos Anselmo."

Dockerty twisted around to kiss her, then rumbled, "I hope you're right. But in case you're not, I want you to take care _never_ to talk in other people's hearing about this business. If I do take a fall, it wouldn't make anything better for me if you fell with me. So be the ditzy girlfriend I picked out from the office because you looked great; don't attract the wrong kind of attention to yourself."

Osmawani marvelled: her dubious lover had just had an _unselfish_ thought. What she said in response was, "We'll hope for the best. No one's actually threatening you, are they?"

"I don't _think_ so; but something just feels wrong. Oh, I know you're right: Lake is a smart operator. And if he wins his gamble, _I'll_ be the Secretary of Indoctrination. But if not.... Well, besides not wanting you to fall, there's one man I would hope WILL fall."

"Who, that voiceless newspaperman in Casper?"

"De Soto? No, I can't say I like him, but he isn't the one who sets my teeth on edge. I'm talking about Alipang Havens. I want to live to see him die."

Osmawani, though having no carnal desires toward the warrior-dentist, would still rather that someone else had been Dockerty's target for hatred. "Why Dr. Havens? Because he used your Overseers as punching bags?"

"Not that, or not mainly that. What gets me about Havens above all is the way he stood there in his church, with my gun aimed straight at him, and _lectured_ me, as if I were a highschool kid who wasn't getting the point of a lesson. The _nerve_ of him! Trying to make everything normal and natural seem dirty and inferior compared to his stupid religion! Trying to convince ME that there was a _higher_ authority than the collective! I want to see him crawl and beg. I want to hear him whimper that he'll do anything to save himself, offer to inform on other dissenters, anything rather than die. The rotten loosh refused to be afraid of me!"

Osmawani kissed him. "Dear, I'm sure he was _petrified_ of you; he was just counting on your humane instincts to refrain from killing him, while he put on a show for his partner and his bioproducts. Don't upset yourself." By degrees, the mistress relaxed and soothed her master.

Osmawani's last thoughts before falling asleep were to the effect that, while she was not specially interested in Alipang Havens, it still might be a wonderful thing to have the love of a man with Alipang's courage--rather than the lust of a cowardly bully.

As for Dockerty, his last thoughts before falling asleep were about how he might use the Ku Klux Quaker fiction in some way to destroy that Filipino Christian who had so boldly defied him.
 
Sleeping over at the Grange Hall near Crazy Woman Creek, Alipang said goodbye to Chung Sun Kim the next morning and rode home on Sammy. His reception committee in Sussex was to prove larger than he had expected.

Kim, Wilson, Esperanza, Brendan, Ransom, Lydia, and various neighbors were around; but also there were two men, and five women, with official standing. The men were Forest Ranger Kostas Demophilos, and an unfamiliar young man in the uniform of a Distribution Department Commerce Inspector. The latter bore a sidearm unfamiliar to the exile dentist; Alipang was later to learn that this was a flechette pistol, whose spread of high-velocity darts could be adjusted for wider or narrower coverage from one shot to the next, and which could optionally deliver trank doses or deadly poison. Two of the women were also in uniform: Overseer Captain Maria Butello and Overseer Phosphorus Andrews. Two others were a known pair of constant companions, Sector Agriculture Consultant Okokeso Vekeseha and her ex-Pinkshirt aide Myra Brooks. The fifth woman, while wearing civilian clothes and being as unfamiliar as the Commerce Inspector, projected more of an air of command than anyone else present.

The governmental personages allowed Alipang to be welcomed first by family and friends; but then Captain Butello ordered everyone to allow the official party to talk privately with Alipang inside his dental clinic, only Kim being allowed to accompany him while the rest of their household went back in the house.

Once in the clinic, Maria Butello told Alipang and Kim: "You have been visited before now by persons using high-grade privacy technology." She glanced at Ranger Demophilos. "We are aware of this, and our visit is a continuation of the intent of the previous visit, with similar protection against eavesdropping. Allow me now to introduce the persons you have not met before. The Commerce Inspector is Harun Makhmud, one of the new contingent associated with the new recycling operation in Nebraska Sector. And this woman is--"

"--Yelena Gorshkovskaya," the businesslike woman took over. When she saw that her name seemed meaningless to Alipang and Kim, she added impatiently, "Continental Marshal of the Diversity States Marshals' Service."

"This is the highest-ranking law-enforcement officer you have ever met," put in Consultant Vekeseha helpfully, and was mostly ignored.

"So may we ask what this is about?" asked Kim. She was remembering the Sunday when armed Overseers had interrupted Pastor Ionesco's service.

"It is about some serious housecleaning," said the leader of the Marshals' Service. "You, Dr. Havens, have been exposed to clues about unauthorized actions by the Campaign Against Hate here in the Enclave. There's more going on than you had any way of knowing. Some of those who were guilty of malfeasance in the matter of your friend Henry Spafford, have now been confirmed to be guilty of wrongdoing on a far bigger scale." She looked at the Forest Ranger, as if inviting him to continue.

"In various places across the Diversity States," Kostas Demophilos explained, "criminals posing as D.S. Marshals, abetted by one actual Marshal who had turned bad, took part in a project of covertly gathering technical equipment.... which could be used for weaponry purposes. A military installation, kept hidden by brilliant use of holographic camouflage, has actually been created here in Wyoming Sector; its construction was what roused so many bears out of hibernation."

"But how could they dare to DO that," asked Alipang, "with China forbidding America to have any kind of army anymore?"

"We believe," said Yelena Gorshkovskaya, "that they succeeded in walking a tightrope, keeping the power of their installation sufficiently limited so as NOT to annoy the Chinese, yet strong enough to suit their purposes."

Kostas resumed: "Their purpose was to be able to interdict government aircraft from getting into the Enclave... once they sprang their takeover."

Alipang realized that they were seeing the unfolding of everything that Yang Sung-Kuo had warned him to look for; but this of course left many details still untold. "Who exactly would be taking over what from whom?" Alipang demanded.

"A man who has gotten his tentacles into many agencies," replied Kostas, "would be taking over the Western Enclave, with all its vital resources, thus being able to threaten Washington with a cutoff of half the nation's electricity supply."

"That man is Supreme Court Chief Justice Sherman Lake," said the Continental Marshal; "he has corrupted some of my own personnel, and still more in the Campaign Against Hate. The Campaign tried to avoid our finding this out before they could get credit for a housecleaning, but we had enough puzzle pieces to figure it out anyway. Perhaps Lake's most strategically-placed hireling is the Overseers' Deputy Commander, your dear friend Nash Dockerty. And after the way Dockerty has conducted himself toward YOU, Dr. Havens, we thought you might be willing to help us bring him down."

 
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Alipang sighed. "You beat up a few Overseers, and suddenly everybody wants you on their team."

Continental Marshal Gorshkovskaya did not laugh at his joke, but neither did she rebuke him for it. "Your actions of last November ARE in fact the reason why we want you to be part of our plan. Deputy Commander Dockerty hates you pathologically, precisely because your combination of strength and good sense makes him look like the slug he is. If you are involved in high-profile activity in his front yard, his eyes will be on you, looking for any excuse to arrest you--though we will not be asking you to DO anything that would give him such an excuse."

"Then I take it that I'm to divert him from being on guard against whatever you're going to do about his anti-aircraft site?"

"Correct," put in Ranger Demophilos. "Mark, Dana and I will be leading some Deputy Marshals into the Big Horn region where the site has been built, supposedly as part of the already-announced program of integrating the Forestry Service into Enclave law enforcement. The Agriculture Consultant will also be in our party, as will Porter Hennepin and some other Grange volunteers. And you, upon going to Rapid City, will meet some of the incoming Rangers in your Grange volunteer capacity. Each activity will thus lend credibility to the other."

Alipang looked at the Continental Marshal again. "I suppose that your party on the ground will have more weaponry than they seem to have?"

"Correct again," she told him. "We need to capture that site quickly. It so happens that the former exile woman who was exploited by Dockerty is about to testify against him to the Hemispheric Union and the United Nations. Once this happens, Dockerty will be as good as expelled from office. And THEN.... he might decide he has nothing to lose, and attempt the Enclave takeover without even waiting for Lake to order it." Gorshkovskaya did not choose to mention that Chief Justice Lake was in no position to give any more orders to his henchmen.

"Will Kim and our children be protected from reprisals?"

"Of course. Inspector Makhmud will head a team of guards that will stay in Sussex, ostensibly meeting with local officials on more conventional business, but really keeping an eye on your collective."

"I suppose further that you already have my travel arrangements made?"

"So we do. There's no need for me to threaten you with punishment for NOT doing as we want, since you're smart enough to know it's to YOUR advantage to be rid of Dockerty..."

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

Early the next morning, a train pulled into Rapid City, at the same platform where Daffodil Ford and his assistants had disembarked not long ago. Daffodil was waiting to meet the train, with a Transport policeman loitering nearby.

"Dr. Havens! You couldn't have chosen a better time to visit! My harem girls are outside the fence at present, so I can listen to all your news without having to filter it for them."

Alipang forced a smile, while inwardly praying that Daffodil, as well as Kim and the rest of the Havens family, would be kept safe from any adverse consequences of his little diversionary mission. "The news is interesting, I promise you. Some personnel from the Department of Distribution have been in Sussex, and they gave me encouragement about the possibility of starting a medical university for exiles!" This was actually true; Alipang was just hoping that OTHER aspects of his new contact with the federal government were still a secret from Nash Dockerty.
 
Alipang and Daffodil made a virtual parade out of Alipang's first day in town. They met with Barney Jamison, who was both gaining in vigor and using that vigor to reciprocate Ursula Flint's affections; they met with Avery Glass, who emerged somewhat from his apathy at the prospect that he might _actually_ head the school of dentistry at a new healthcare university; they met with members of the Tabor family, who had received word from Porter Hennepin that an important Grange man would be around; and they met with the two Forest Rangers who had been with Emilio and Zella at the capture of the criminals in Palo Duro.

Fred Yoshiwara and Lyra Bender had been expedited in transferring to the Enclave, and seventeen additional Forest Rangers had been hastily detailed to fly in with them. Fred would command a new Ranger post in North Dakota Sector, and Lyra would do the same in Wyoming Sector. The latter being the Enclave sector with the biggest land area, Lyra would have eight Rangers under her command, while Fred would have five. The remaining four new Rangers would work in South Dakota Sector, directly subordinated to Mark Terrell. Nebraska Sector being allotted to Commerce Inspectors, only one Ranger would be stationed there, as a token presence and a liaison; Kostas Demophilos, whose long service history gave him experience with inter-agency dealings, would fill this post after his current adventure ended.

Alipang found all of this interesting, and also enjoyed hearing about Daffodil's progress; but what he found unsettling was the _absence_ of any gesture toward him, hostile or friendly, from anyone belonging to the Campaign Against Hate. All that day, he was waiting for even the _first_ shoe to drop.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

That night, Nash Dockerty sat in the otherwise deserted cafeteria of Overseer Headquarters, talking with his hitmen, Ludovigo Vargas and Sid Huddleston.

"Sir, if you don't mind us asking," Huddleston was saying, "we're not sure whether you actually want to kill Dr. Havens or not."

"It would need a lot of explaining, unless we could manufacture a _totally_ convincing accident," Vargas pointed out.

Dockerty nodded. "I've been giving it plenty of thought. And yes, I guess I _have_ been wavering in what I say about him. Osmawani tells me the same thing; she also reminds me of how much Havens is in favor with other federal departments."

"Which argues for our leaving him alone, especially while we're uncertain what's going on back in Washington," said Huddleston. "Faye and Luminessa feel the same way."

"But if it were Ku Klux Quakers that attacked him--say, attacked him while he's with that goofy boy--then we might be able to _discredit_ him even if he doesn't die. Death or serious injury to _either_ Dr. Havens or Daffodil, if blamed on Biblicals, would give us the go-ahead for a purge; if we gained that, it would be worth having to pretend to admire Havens as a fallen hero. But if he ran away, or if by any means we could make it seem that he was _with_ the Ku Klux Quakers in the attack... Hmmm, the possibilities are excellent. Have we got a mob ready for tomorrow?"

"Fourteen men," Vargas replied, "none of whom have been seen before by anyone around here. With luck, the riot can be staged where no satellite can see who does it; and surveillance cameras on the ground can suffer an accidental failure."
 
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Alipang slept overnight at the home of his Filipino acquaintance Ignacio Balubal the pedicab driver, who had news to tell of the Magpatocs in Lance Creek. The next morning, Alipang gave his friend paying business, taking him along streets cleared of snow to where Daffodil was lodged.

When Daffodil was ready to venture outdoors, he led the heavily-clothed Alipang to a park with numerous trees; for Daffodil wanted to be away from any flesh-and-blood ears, even though it was possible that listening devices were trained on them. He wanted to _feel_ as if he had privacy, when talking to his older and wiser friend about women.

"I know that Bailey and Moonrose don't want to have anything to do with any man, _even_ close to their own age, in any intimate way; and they know that I know this about them. But they both still behave almost as seductively toward me as Osmawani did when we were doing 'Churchbusters.' What do you think it is? That they want to tantalize me?"

"I doubt it," replied Alipang. "From what you've told me before, they're dependent on your goodwill for any hope of a future promotion. So they surely wouldn't intentionally antagonize you. They probably think that in spite of any personal relationship with you being impossible, you'll still be more inclined to evaluate their performance favorably if you're, um, stimulated by their presence. As Fairness Party members, they've been taught to believe that a human being is _nothing_ more or other than a physical body, with a set of conditioned--"

Alipang was interrupted by a shout coming from behind some trees: "There they are! The heathen paganist and the slidebacker! God hates them, so they must die!" Six men, all carrying wooden clubs or lengths of pipe, came into view, heading menacingly toward the two friends. When Alipang swung around to see if there was a second group moving to box them in, he saw just that: eight more men, similarly armed. Both groups fanned out, while someone in the larger group yelled, "They serve the Spirit of Anti-Jesus! Kill them!"

Daffodil was staring in disbelief, like a deer caught by headlights back in the days when there had _been_ automobiles to _have_ headlights. But Alipang's mind was grasping everything about the situation, in less time than it took the boy to rally his own wits and cry out uselessly, "What do you want?"

These men could only be members, or temporary hirelings, of the Campaign Against Hate; they obviously had not the slightest clue about the Christian faith to which they were pretending to belong. So whoever had sent them, presumably Nash Dockerty, didn't believe that a _very_ convincing pretense of being Christian was necessary. That, or else Dockerty had found out he was under suspicion, and was acting in haste. Either way, this supposedly spontaneous mob had been deliberately formed to kill Alipang and settle a grudge, or to kill Daffodil and blame Alipang, or both.

Still within his tiny allowance of time, Alipang knew that he could easily smash any chosen target among the assailants who were closing in, and get outside the ring they made. He could even maybe convince himself that he was helping Daffodil that way, by drawing the thugs to chase him as he broke free. But his more honest side knew that _someone_ in the mob would still make sure to kill or injure the defenseless boy, who would never be able to get away fast enough. Besides, the federal authority figures who had sent him to Rapid City cared more about Daffodil's life than about Alipang's; and if Alipang ran to save his own skin and Daffodil suffered harm in consequence, Kim and the children might face reprisals.

Not that Alipang _wanted_ to abandon Daffodil to the human wolfpack.

Lord God, be with my loved ones; and if this is my hour to die, receive my spirit.

Several bypassers in the park were angrily warned off by the make-believe religious fanatics. Grabbing Daffodil's arm before the mob started its actual attack, Alipang shouted, "Do as I say! Over here--down, fetal position!" He forced Daffodil down onto the frozen ground, right against the base of a tree, and yanked at one long leg to get the boy to assume the ordered position; this, because Daffodil was so much taller than Alipang, that it would be hard for Alipang's body to shield enough of Daffodil's body. Spreading himself on top of the teenager, he wound his left arm around the tree trunk; at the same time, freeing his sheath knife from its place inside his coat, he plunged it into the ground with a strength which penetrated even ice-hard soil. This gave him a handle to grasp with his right hand, which would make it harder for them to drag him away and get at the boy. In a flicker of memory, he saw himself as a child, unable to shield his little sister...but he would NOT fail this time.

Alipang Dumagat Havens, descendant of homicidal Moros, called on their power...to _protect_ life.

A world-shattering blow struck his lower back, probably aimed at his kidneys. Another blow rang on his skull; and then he was being hit everyplace. His massive coat muffled many of the blows, but only enough to prolong his ordeal. He was not given the luxury enjoyed by heroes in paperback novels, to fall into black unconsciousness at the first blow; he was feeling impact after impact, and he felt the exact moment when his left elbow was fractured against the tree. Still he held on, still he shielded Daffodil, though now knives pierced him, and he knew he was going to die if he didn't receive medical aid. More of his bones broke, and still the Christian Moro held on, refusing to abandon his young friend to death....

Alipang was even still conscious when the gunshots began. It seemed he had finally, helplessly slid off of the boy he was protecting; the world was going out of focus, but he could have sworn that he saw the Undersecretary of Sustainable Energy holding a machine pistol and blowing out the brains of one of the would-be killers. After a sight like that, he had an excuse to black out.

 
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Being unconscious, Alipang missed the best part.

In his airport office, the same room where he had executed Kurt Langford, Nash Dockerty stared as Osmawani Jalil answered a holophone call from Sioux San Hospital and put it on speaking image. A Pinkshirt named Delicacy Rogers--a man, of course--was exclaiming: "Commander! They're taking over the hospital! Deputy Marshals and Commerce Inspectors and Transport Police and Forest Rangers, all together! They just brought in--"

At this point, Delicacy was indelicately shoved away from the image pickup. The hologram now showed a man whom Dockerty had met for the first time scarcely two days ago: the senior Forest Ranger Fred Yoshiwara. His voice, and his eyes, were level and cold.

"We brought in the exile you wanted to murder over a personal grudge. And funny thing, the rules about not giving the best care to exiles are being waived; even Distribution personnel agree on that. Alipang Havens is going straight into tissue regeneration. But that won't matter to you, Dockerty. Continental Marshal Gorshkovskaya is IN the Enclave right now; and her own team has penetrated your surface-to-air missile base. YOU are going down, all the way down, for treason against the Diversity States and against the Hemispheric Union! If you want to live, you will immediately--"

But what the Deputy Commander did immediately, was to draw his pistol and shoot the holographic unit, causing Osmawani to jump in startlement. Then he made a call on a separate intercom: "Vargas! Huddleston! Contingency Plan Three! Every available particle beam!"

"But the whole Party's turning against us!" Vargas replied. "We can't win! Sir, you know I'm for you, but our only chance now is to surrender!"

"Shut up, you scragging krin! Sherman Lake will come through for us! Now rally the Overseers and FIGHT!" The pink-suited petty tyrant had time to throw on his own reflective armor, and to have his personnel on this office floor (Osmawani included) arm themselves from the gun locker, before word came back from Huddleston:

"Someone hacked in remotely with a disarm-code! The particle beams won't power up! Infrasonic ordnance won't work either!"

"Well, we've got non-coded guns that will still shoot! Now repel attackers, blast you! I'm calling Sherman Lake now!"

But no call from Dockerty's office could get through to Washington. An ugly last-ditch fight ensued, as the composite force of practically every other law-enforcement community closed in on the man who had enjoyed godlike power over unarmed exiles for four years. Lieutenant Carmen Delgado of the Transport Police, and several other officers, died by the bullets of the Overseers and Pinkshirts who were defending the building; but a greater number of the defenders died--including Ludovigo Vargas and Sid Huddleston. These two fought to the death because, having rejected the call to surrender, they knew too well what sort of "justice" the Fairness Party might serve out to them; but they only succeeded in delivering themselves to the justice of a righteous God, Who had not forgotten the murder of Eva Lederburg.

Some of Nash Dockerty's subordinates, including Faye Miller and Luminessa Tigobo, saved themselves by surrendering; these were to be questioned by the two Overseers who had actually joined the fight on the attacking side, Maria Butello and Phosphorus Andrews. As the defense crumbled, the oversized cornered rat found a surprising figure in combat armor crashing into his office to demand his surrender:

The Enclave Undersecretary of Sustainable Energy, who in younger years before the takeover had risen to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel in the Military Police of the U.S. Army.

"Drop your gun, Dockerty; the next session of the triumvirate is cancelled."

Nash Dockerty seemed about to comply; but instead, he grabbed his own mistress as a human shield, pressing his pistol to the side of her head. "Get out! You can't order me! I decide what's legal! I decide what's true! I'm the Dep--" This was as far as he got before a perfect shot by the Energy Undersecretary crashed into his gun, pushing its muzzle out of line with the terrified hostage's head. Dockerty's pistol did go off, the force stunning Osmawani; but she would recover with medical help.

Dockerty would not recover from the two additional bullets that poured into his head. And his corpse had not finished twitching before his spirit was finding out, too late, that he really should have listened to Alipang Havens about God and salvation.

As the noises of death subsided, the Energy Undersecretary holstered her weapon and made a call to one of the Commerce Inspectors at the hospital, telling him: "When Dr. Havens regains consciousness, tell him that Nash Dockerty won't be interrupting any more church services."
 
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