The First Love Of Alipang Havens

Chapter 80: This Changes the Shape of the World! *

* A line from Errol Flynn's movie "Captain Blood"​


At the airfield in Fort Stockton, an honor guard of Texas Rangers under the command of Emilio Vasquez stood watching as four of the new Texas Bears came in for a landing. Two of these freshly-built propellor-driven air-defense planes were piloted by Colt Finnegan and Greg Jessup, the latter pleased to have his own command now that the number of aircraft had been augmented for them by Mexico. Following after the Bears came two additional Great Condor helicopters, bringing the Texas District's inventory of these fighting ships to eight.

Standing behind Emilio and within easy hearing--in between the noisiest moments of the landings--Ranger Zella Greenlee said to him, "Vibol Ritisak really came through for us! I understand that the Bi-Continental Assembly was almost unanimous in voting approval for us to have these planes!" She was referring to the Diversity States Ambassador to the Hemispheric Union.

"I think Ritisak had help," Emilio replied. Zella wasn't cleared to know about Emilio's past undercover missions with Gloria Cervantes; thus, Emilio could not tell Zella what he had learned from Gloria about the frightful incidence of human sacrifice in the People's Republic of Aztlan. But Emilio felt certain that someone on the covert side of things--possibly that wild-card operator, Santiago Sanchez--had made Aztlan worry about being denounced for this, and made the Venezuelan Alliance worry about being denounced for acquiescing to it. This would explain why those H.U. members had voted "Abstaining" when the final vote came on approving Mexico's provision of the additional aircraft to Texas.

When a decent amount of official welcoming had been done, the man who had been flying co-pilot with Greg Jessup sought out Emilio; this was no less than Vice-Commandant Jed Brickhouse, who was in a hurry to hustle the younger man into a secure conference room, where several other high-ranking Rangers waited. "Information has begun to be released to us about what's been happening inside the Western Enclave," Brickhouse told his comrades. "Turns out that Ambassador Ritisak is more timely than we realized in his making Enclave abuses his next order of business after our aircraft."

Emilio didn't altogether like the sound of this, although his superior did not seem to be in such a mood as would be brought on by any disaster befalling Melody Vasquez's relatives in exile. So he asked bluntly, "Are you talking about any abuses affecting Alipang and my other in-laws?"

"Well, yes and no. Easy, Emilio, none of them died. What I really meant was that a former exile--the woman you know of, the one who was able to get out because that Australian guy married her--has been invited to testify to the H.U. about how she was enslaved by the Campaign Against Hate's leader in the Enclave. But that's academic as far as Deputy Commander Dockerty is concerned: he's organic mulch now, and the Enclave is in the biggest uproar it's been in since they first fenced it off! Only, it's a _hopeful_ uproar; the Campaign Against Hate is actually _losing_ its police powers in the Enclave!"

"Just because that Dockerty creep was a sexual predator?" asked a woman Ranger.

"Not that alone. Another indictment against the Campaign--" (and here Brickhouse faced Emilio again) "--was that Dockerty tried to have your brother-in-law Alipang murdered, because he had a private vendetta against Alipang. Turns out some of the other officials anticipated this, got video of the attempt, and are using the video to make their demand stick, for the Campaign to forfeit its hold on the Enclave.

"And even that isn't the biggest jolt. It was revealed that Dockerty and his underlings were building an anti-aircraft installation, intended to keep government planes out...when they would stage their own takeover of the Enclave with its energy-industry assets, to intimidate the country into letting Sherman Lake assume the Presidency!"

"Dang!" exclaimed one of the men present. "Would that make him the Commander-In-Chief-Justice?"

"It makes him _dead_ now," replied Brickhouse. "And the whole Department of Indoctrination is in the doghouse. The power vacuum in the Enclave, according to what Commandant Pierce and I have been hearing, will be mainly filled by the Department of Distribution. That means Commerce Inspectors taking the place of Overseers."

"Which, we can hope, means at least _somewhat_ less bullying of the exiles," remarked Emilio.

"That does look likely," said Brickhouse, extending his hand toward a wooden tabletop to knock on its surface. "And that isn't all it means. Not only will there be no more Overseers just looking for an excuse to barbecue defenseless exiles with particle beams; Washington is trying to pre-empt any more treason such as Dockerty was part of, by establishing _pluralism_ in law enforcement there. You already knew that more Forest Rangers were being sent in, on top of the increased numbers of Transport Police. It doesn't stop with the Commerce Inspectors, either. The majority of those will be in Nebraska Sector; and you know that their skills are all urban-based. So still _other_ police entities will be allowed into the Enclave, mainly for work outside the cities."

With a lightbulb-over-the-head expression, Emilio asked, "Sir, do you mean US?"

Jed Brickhouse slapped Emilio's shoulder. "You're stealing my punchline! As I was saying, district-police contingents from the Great Plains and Rocky Mountain Federal Districts will be given stations inside the Enclave; AAAAND, snare drum and cymbals, an _aviation_ detachment from the Texas Rangers will be assigned in there too. Now, Emilio, do you know any Texas Ranger aviation officer who might like to accept that posting, provided he could have his dependents in there with him?"
 
With the new school term had come relentless pressure on the Salisbury family to enroll at least one of its children in the Fairness Party's Diversity Pioneers. Fortunately, though, even before the blowup in the Enclave dropped the Indoctrination Department's prestige into the basement, Dan and Chilena had enjoyed some prestige power of their own, thanks to the release of their latest Revised Shakespeare travesty, in connection with which they, and NOT their younger co-stars, had received all the praise of the critics for making it a success. Accordingly, they had been able to make a deal. Their son Tommy would be enrolled early in Pioneers, and would become the official poet for his chapter, in return for his not being required to say or do anything directly attacking the Christian faith or its doctrines of marriage and family.

Having been made aware of Tommy's talents, his teacher Ms. Yintavong had helped him come up with a subject for a poem which would advance Fairness Party themes within the bounds the Salisbury family had stipulated.

On the day after the limited release of information to authority figures about events in the Enclave, Tommy was the center of attention at an after-school Pioneers meeting. This was the debut of his new poem about the 1876 Northfield, Minnesota raid that had proven a disaster for the Jesse James gang. Tommy had set to verse the interpretation of that event which was favored by the Department of Indoctrination...

"A Self-Esteem Center still stands today in Stillwell,
Where members of the Jesse James gang once were filled well
With love of the collective to get their mental sores healed,
And cure the bourgeois greed they had practiced up in Northfield.

"When Frank and Jesse James, and the siblings known as Younger,
Came to the Minnesota town, they thought their guns were stronger
Than oneness and equality; they thought their capitalism
Was freedom--but of course it had them in a mental prison.

"A distribution center for the Northfield collective
Was run by Joseph Heywood, who saw what was defective
In Jesse James and all of his outlaw corporation;
So Heywood undertook their progressive education.

"When threatened with their six-guns, he laughed and said, 'How Freudian!'
Then started teaching unity, which, though it first annoyed them,
Soon made them recognize there was a different kind of power,
So they could understand when Heywood gave each man a flower.

"Now all the Gaia-lovers in that part of Minnesota
Brought great bouquets of flowers, as if to meet a quota.
This made Frank and Jesse see the great truth, and this is
That equal distribution is the only valid business.

"When touched by cosmic harmony each flower had to offer,
Each member of the gang was glad to give up his revolver.
Since everyone had everything, there was no one who had less,
And North Central said goodbye to war and all its madness."

A female Pinkshirt who was overseeing the meeting waited for Tommy to finish his recitation and be applauded for it, before she lifted her voice with an announcement. "Attention, young citizens! My dataphone has alerted me to a streamcast news report which is of interest to our excellent new poet. Tommy, come stand beside me." When the puzzled boy was beside her, she continued: "Now, Tommy, don't be alarmed, he is well and safe now, but your caregiver-sibling Alipang Havens was in a potentially fatal incident. Thanks to our vigilant authorities, Citizen Havens was rescued before he could be killed by rogue deviationists who were acting on behalf of a greedy sexist corporate infiltrator of the Party. Now, let me cue up the screen, and play the report from the start..."

A moment later, the familiar newsperson Dynamo Earthquake was telling her audience the news as it had been fed to her:

"Greetings, citizens, the collective is all! Today there is dramatic news from the South Dakota Sector of the Western Enclave!" As Ms. Earthquake went on, sections of the viewing field featured images of Alipang Havens, Nash Dockerty and Daffodil Ford in that order. "Many of my viewers will remember how I have traced the progress of the exile dentist, Alipang Havens, as he has continued to grow in his appreciation for the collective. This week, however, his partial enlightenment almost cost him his life. Deputy Commander Nash Dockerty of the Campaign Against Hate, who has now been revealed as a capitalistic reactionary counter-revolutionist, sent a right-wing death squad onto the streets of Rapid City to murder internal diplomat Daffodil Ford. As this dramatic holovideo shows, Citizen Havens shielded Citizen Ford with his body, until police units loyal to the Party intervened..."

Tommy could not remember much about his Uncle Alipang from pre-takeover years, except that Alipang had been an embodiment of tremendous physical strength and fun-loving exuberance. Nonetheless, the boy knew that his mother loved her brother profoundly; this was enough to make it horrific for him to see his uncle being mauled. The Pinkshirt, and Ms. Yintavong who was also in attendance, hovered comfortingly around the boy, until Ms. Earthquake provided the happy ending:

"Fortunately, the generosity and compassion of the Fairness Party reach to all corners of the nation. Alipang Havens was quickly transported to a tissue-regeneration ward, by the direct orders of the Undersecretary of Sustainable Energy. He is expected to recover completely from his injuries; and I hope to get the chance to interview him once more when he is discharged from the hospital.

"Meanwhile, the unmasking of deviationist criminals is not confined to the Western Enclave. Nash Dockerty is now in the hands of correctional authories; but the fascist plot which he embodied reaches to higher levels. Here is yet another dramatic scene, recorded less than half an hour ago, as Mid-Atlantic District police officers stormed the secret compound of Supreme Court Chief Justice Sherman Lake, whose conspiracy both inside and outside the Enclave had been aimed at reviving the plague of private enterprise in America..."

Tommy Salisbury, for as long as he could remember, had had parents intimately involved with entertainment media. With an eye trained by his parents, Tommy felt certain that the spectacular gunfight, in which the dastardly Sherman Lake went down shooting, was faked. But he took care to give no sign of his suspicion. He simply hoped that the part about Uncle Alipang being safe was true.
 
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At the time Dynamo Earthquake issued her government-approved report concerning Nash Dockerty and Alipang Havens, it was night in Uganda; but the Redfern family had not quite gone to bed yet. Holly Rose and Alyssa Maria were playing complex mathematical games on the family's new Australian-made Omniconsole, when the apparatus gave a prompt:

~ ~ MEDIA REFERENCE TO NAME "DAFFODIL FORD."

"Dad, something just went on the net about our mysterious new brother!" Holly Rose called out.

"I'll bring it up now," offered Alyssa Maria, pausing and storing the current calculus game.

United States Army veteran and emigrant Josiah Redfern had just been doing something he had not done in a long time: reading up on the latest developments in infantry small arms. Though he had tried to avoid giving his sons and daughters any impression that hearing about his test-tube son in America could make him any less content with the children he had raised, he couldn't help wondering what kind of life Daffodil had lived up to now. The name by itself had not made Josiah optimistic. Sincere Christian though he was, and capable of generous forgiveness though he was, the Iraqi Freedom veteran felt now and then a desire to shoot someone for what the Fairness Party regime probably had done to the boy. Shoot them, or maybe only pound them into hamburger--for Corporal Redfern had been a deadly hand-to-hand fighter in his day, and he had not lost all of his ability.

Melody Redfern joined her husband in front of the television screen, and they watched the report three times before anyone commented on it. At last, Isaiah Nick said softly, "Thank God for that Havens guy."

Deep in thought, Josiah nodded, "Yeah. I'd sure like to shake his hand. And you notice that the reporter is the same woman we prayed for?"

"Yes, I remember her," Melody assured her husband. "No telling from this if she's come any closer to salvation since that night we prayed together. But if her followup on this story brings her into more contact with believers, who knows? I mean, I know God knows, but I mean, you know what I mean." Her unplanned slight verbal stumble brought Josiah fully back into the here and now, and he kissed her with special tenderness.

Melody's other son, Elijah Roy, remarked, "I wonder if Daffodil appreciates what that man did for him, or if he's a spoiled apparatchik who thinks the peasants owe it to him to bleed for him?"

"If he's spoiled," murmured Josiah, "maybe Dr. Havens can unspoil him. That is, if the boy pays any attention to Dr. Havens."

It had been under secure circumstances that Josiah had been told about his genes having been stolen to beget that boy in America. He had been seriously bending the rules to tell his family what he had heard, even a partial account. But he couldn't bear to hide something so big from the wife and children whom he loved, the ones who had followed him to this expatriate life in Africa. And he figured he was small enough potatoes, no one would be going to great trouble to come out here and spy on him, so long as no one in this household spoke to neighbors or classmates about young Mr. Ford.

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

Had Josiah known it, Daffodil Ford was keeping a single-minded vigil at Sioux San Hospital in Rapid City, waiting to hear that his defender had regained consciousness. Though assured by everyone that all would be well, the boy was anxious enough that, secretly but in complete earnest, he _prayed_ for Alipang to recover.

Daffodil's mother Samantha Ford, the former Ambassador At Large, did not even hear about her son's close call until two days after this. She and Carlota Ruiz were sequestered at a resort in Virginia, still consoling each other over something or other. When she did hear the news, seeing that Daffodil was unhurt, she drank more Joy Nectar, and she and Carlota resumed their pleasure pastimes.
 
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Oh, my. That was exciting! Poor Alipang. That was really brave. I'm glad he's going to be all right!

Copperfox said:
"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."
Click to expand...

:eek: I didn't expect something that big!

Copperfox said:
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.
Click to expand...

Well, well. What a surprise.

Copperfox said:
"Now, Emilio, do you know any Texas Ranger aviation officer who might like to accept that posting, provided he could have his dependents in there with him?"
Click to expand...

Hooray!:D

Copperfox said:
Daffodil's mother Samantha Ford, the former Ambassador At Large, did not even hear about her son's close call until two days after this. She and Carlota Ruiz were sequestered at a resort in Virginia, still consoling each other over something or other. When she did hear the news, seeing that Daffodil was unhurt, she drank more Joy Nectar, and she and Carlota resumed their pleasure pastimes.
Click to expand...

I'd like to slap her.
 
It's great to have you commenting again, Zella!!

Being outside the Enclave did not after all completely exempt Moonrose Quickpace and Bailey Melville from involvement in the dramatic shakeup, though they were drawn back into the situation in a way not harmful to them.

On the day after Dynamo Earthquake's report, the two State Department ladies found themselves standing at the lowest audience rail of an athletic field in Washington, clinging nervously to each other as their true boss, Secretary of State Megavolt Atkinson, stood near them. Atkinson was no longer needed in Beijing, since the properly ridiculous male Petunia Morrison had been confirmed as the new D.S. Ambassador to Greater China. Another pair of women in a fearful embrace were the Enclave Undersecretary of Eco-Sensitive Agriculture, and her companion Freda Weckerling. Other onlookers included a somber-faced Vice-President Carlos Anselmo; the less-often-seen President Jessica Trevette, stylishly dressed and groomed as ever; Secretary of Distribution Reed Harrison, one of the few male Cabinet secretaries...and Commandant Brittany Pierce of the Texas Rangers. Commandant Pierce had been summoned here because some of the prisoners about to be brought into view owed a reckoning to the Texas Rangers. Only one foreign national was in attendance, hovering close to President Trevette: Felipe Contreras, the Aztlano who had first brought evidence against Chief Justice Lake.

No journalists were present; and holographic blur-projectors were in place, to make what would happen here invisible to the satellites above.

On the field stood two high commanders of law enforcement: Campaign Against Hate Commander Valery Khloponin, and Continental Marshal Yelena Gorshkovskaya. With them were half a dozen Overseers, manning compact particle-beam weapon mounts. The male commander spoke first:

"Comrades, the collective is all! It is a highly appropriate karma that in Marshal Gorshkovskaya and myself you have two representatives of the Russian tradition in law enforcement. While peace and oneness make the foundational spirit of the Diversity States, ruthlessness is called for now and then. Marshal Gorshkovskaya, I leave the rest of the explanation to you."

"Thank you, Commander Khloponin. Honored President, and all dignitaries here gathered: the Campaign Against Hate, and the Marshals' Service, are painfully aware that we need to clean our own houses. You will see this accomplished now. Members of both our commands have been found guilty of joining Sherman Lake's treasonous conspiracy--a conspiracy which would have imperilled the national infrastructure; a conspiracy which was prepared, as a means of camouflage, to bring false charges of rebellion against Biblicals who were in fact submissive and obedient to the Party; and a conspiracy whose implementation resulted in the murders of numerous law-enforcement officers, notably among the federal police of the Texas District." Though the Continental Marshal did not SAY "Texas Rangers," Commandant Pierce's face did show a grim look of satisfaction and vindication.

"At the same time as we are cleaning house," Gorshkovskaya continued, "a fundamental restructuring is to occur in the Western Enclave. The Campaign Against Hate, indeed the whole Department of Indoctrination, is relinquishing all authority within the Enclave; only a handful of unarmed Pinkshirt personnel will remain there, as consultants to the administration. The Marshals' Service, also embarrassed by recent events, will play no part in re-ordering Enclave law enforcement, beyond posting two or three observers in Rapid City. Other police entities will share power in the Enclave, as has been discussed in the Fairness Party Presidium. And in place of the Indoctrination Department, it will be the Distribution Department which henceforth supplies the third member of the Enclave's triumvirate."

Everyone looking at Secretary Harrison could tell that he was hard pressed to conceal his gloating; he had finally been given the opportunity to squeeze out his rival, Arista Penfield. But no one was looking at Harrison for long, since now Valery Khloponin barked an order: "Bring out the condemned prisoners!"

Thirty-six men and women were marched out onto the field, their ankles shackled, and their arms hanging limply from nerve-blocking. Among these were former Overseers Tuck Faraday and Halberd Meteor, who had been captured while trying to repel the Continental Marshal's assault on the illegal anti-aircraft base in Wyoming Sector. Another of the condemned was former Operations Marshal Barbara Weckerling, at the sight of whom her sister Freda sobbed and hid her face against her companion's shoulder. The guards lined up the prisoners, who then stood in the apathy of the doomed.

Only one was not apathetic: electrical technician Ralph Durgan, who had never asked anything of the world except to have his own pleasure as often as he liked. Now he was crying and begging, whimpering something to the effect that he was an innocent bystander dragged into events. Signalling the beam gunners to stand by, Commander Khloponin strode up to him, snapped "Truslivyy pyos! [Cowardly dog!]," then drew his sidearm and shot the whining prisoner through the head. When Khloponin was again out of the line of fire, Gorshkovskaya invited him to give the order to the beam gunners. An instant later, the other thirty-five prisoners shrieked in a very brief chorus of mortal agony, as charged particles cooked them like bacon, and they fell in a scorched heap. A localized magnetic field was deployed an instant later, to prevent the released particles from drifting into the spectators. (The hazard of stray particles was a reason why many Party officials were arguing for more use of lasers and less use of particle beams.)

"None of you in the stands are held blameworthy for any part of Sherman Lake's treason," observed Khloponin, "or else you would be down here. But be so good as to remember what you have seen, and to understand that President Trevette and the Party will not allow deviationists to prevail."
 
When Alipang was brought out of sedation, he still was restrained in his hospital bed, so as not to disturb the regeneration process; but Kim and Daffodil were within his field of vision, joined a moment later by Ransom and Osmawani, the last now in regulation Pinkshirt attire.

"Hello?" the patient groaned. "Is there enough left of me....that if I ask where I am...the answer won't have to tell...more than one place?"

Kim claimed the right to speak to her husband first. "You're all here, sweetheart, and I love every molecule of you. But you HAVE to stop letting people beat you up."

"Forgive me if I say I'm grateful for what he did," Daffodil said, almost too softly to be heard.

Osmawani, who was standing while Daffodil sat, leaned over and kissed the top of the boy's head. "Of course they're glad you're safe, Daffy. But Doctor Havens doesn't know yet how much he accomplished by shielding you in exactly the way he did. Doctor Havens, by at once protecting an official personage from harm, and yet NOT fighting Nash Dockerty's men who were attacking him and you, you cut the legs out from under any last-gasp attempt my, ha ha, boyfriend might have made to redirect some of the blame at exiles."

"Blame for what?" croaked Alipang.

"The palace-revolution plot. You, and the Forest Rangers, and Henry Spafford, and the two Undersecretaries, were all correct in figuring that large-scale dirty dealing was afoot. I myself have had to undergo some high-powered interrogation, which could have put me in a termination room; but they finally concluded that none of this was of my making. Nash was in the pay of Chief Justice Sherman Lake, in an attempt to put the national power supply at Lake's mercy, so he could demand the Presidency for himself. The Energy Undersecretary has left word to tell you that Nash won't be disrupting any more church services ever again; in fact, she herself plugged him, and in circumstances that I can't complain about. Nor has Sherman Lake long outlived him, by all accounts."

Ransom now leaned in. "All sorts of changes are already taking shape. Miss Jalil here is one of only seven or eight Pinkshirts who will remain in the Enclave; other than that, the WHOLE Campaign Against Hate is clearing out of the Enclave!"

"And I get to top that," Kim exulted. "The whole policing situation is being reworked; and there will even be a TEXAS RANGER detachment inside the fence, under EMILIO'S command!"

Alipang lifted his head. "Kim, you're the only one entitled to pinch me. Please, convince me I'm not dreaming this."

Instead of pinching him, his wife drew near and kissed him. "It's true. Although we still have to live in the Enclave, it looks as if a lot of conditions will improve. I can't be certain, but besides Emilio coming in with Melody and Baby Douglas, there might even be approval for some kind of family visitation in the near future!"

"The ripples are still spreading from the events you've been part of," said Ransom. "And let me tell you about ONE ripple which CAN be stated for certain. Because you accomplished something good by your NON-combative action in protecting Daffodil...I believe that I've been given my conclusive sign for my own future."

Alipang had to will away some residual mental fog before this made sense to him. "What? You mean...That was the....Okay, this means you ARE going to join the Amish?"

"Yes, I am. No one can ever tell me that my father was sinning by following his duty as a warrior; but for myself individually, I am now convinced that I am supposed to follow a nonviolent path. Now that I've seen you, my next move is to meet with the Reinharts and their community, to start the ball rolling for my official conversion to Amish-ism, if there is any such term."

Daffodil, who had learned some about the Amish since coming to the Enclave, suddenly asked Ransom, "Won't that mean that you no longer consent to anyone taking photographs or video of you?"

"Yes, it will; but I'll see to it that my Mom has recent photographs of me to keep, before that restriction is in effect for me."

"I hope you really do have God's leading on this," Alipang sighed. "Just when it looks as if all the rest of us will be enjoying more freedom, you voluntarily accept new limitations. But I guess if they're the RIGHT limitations, in God's plan for you, it's all a net improvement."

Ransom smiled broadly. "One thing it will mean, is that Lydia and I will be fully and clearly recognized as a courting couple, aiming at getting married as soon as we're old enough."

Osmawani, who had had to be rescued from possibly being shot by her last so-called lover, surprised herself by starting to weep silently when she heard this talk about pure and faithful married love. The only one to notice how she turned away and shed her tears was Daffodil; and when he grasped her hand in pure-hearted sympathy, she accepted his gesture in the spirit intended.

It was a shame he was SO much younger.
 
On the same day as Alipang came back to awareness, Henry Spafford was in for two surprises in close succession.

John Wisebadger had phoned the Spaffords awhile back, telling them that something was up, about which they would hear more later, but they should keep a low profile for the present, because Henry had already become too prominent for his own safety. Thus the Apache family had waited in limbo, right through the time of Nash Dockerty's downfall.

On this day, having attended to all the at-home business he could since his visit with Huldah Rosenbaum, Henry had set out on Cochise before sunrise to hunt deer. By midday, he had bagged a yearling buck and a lynx, both slain swiftly with his high-tech bow; the latter taken (at maximum possible range) for its pelt, and to end its probable depredations on area farms. He was walking toward home, with Cochise dragging the carcasses on a litter. Within a kilometer of the cabin, he was met by his sister Leah on snowshoes.

"Henry! Miss Rosenbaum has come to us, all the way from Greybull Valley!" This was one surprise. "And she says that on the train she got news that the Overseers are going to _leave_ the reservation!!" This was the other surprise.

"Leave?" gawked the huntsman. "Leave to where? And why?"

"She says that the government found out the Campaign Against Hate was doing something illegal, something at the construction site in the Big Horn that you found a clue about. Almost all the Overseers got _arrested,_ and they say some of them even got shot!"

"Call me an Osage!" exclaimed the elder brother. "That sounds like the sort of thing _Alipang_ would find himself in the middle of! I hope to God he _didn't_ get mixed up in it! Is there any word of him?"

"Not yet. After hearing what Huldah had to say, Dad thought about Alipang too; tried to phone his house in Sussex, but the line was busy, on two tries."

"Maybe that's a good sign." Henry hurried his horse's pace just a little.

When they were within twenty meters of the main cabin, Leah insisted on taking charge of rubbing down Cochise and detaching the drag-litter... for Huldah was going to want to see Henry. The Jewish girl, indeed, came outdoors just as Leah was leading the black horse aside; Huldah made a beeline for Henry and flung her arms around his waist.

"The world is changing!" she cried out.

Henry half returned her hug, replying, "Leah gave me the sound-bite version of whatever you've told my family. What IS going on really? And how did you get here, not that you aren't welcome?"

"I rode an early train to the nearest station, and I felt in my heart that a safe way would appear to reach your place. Sure enough, a woman Grange rider named Ladira Garvey was making a mail run heading for your area, and she let me ride behind her, since she was going a slow pace anyway so her horse wouldn't have it too hard."

Henry's arms were more definitely around Huldah by now, and hers were if anything more firmly settled around him; but he was not consciously thinking about the implications of this yet. "Bless you, I want to ask all the questions at the same time! But Leah says you only found out about the Overseers leaving _after_ you left your winter camp; so what _started_ you travelling?"

"It was my Papa. The day after you left from your visit to us, Papa got in a conversation with some Ute tribesmen passing through the valley; and even though we had heard that Apaches and Utes were enemies in the past, these Utes, when they heard a mention of you, told him that you had done them some good turns. This added to Papa's favorable feelings toward you; he actually began thinking out loud about how maybe your coming along was a sign that God was changing His mind about being rotten and cruel. Don't stare at me, that's how he put it. So the upshot was that Papa told me, with Yakov and the Ugartes as witnesses, that he _wouldn't_ disown me if I became a Christian, as long as I was doing it to make the way clear to marry you."

Henry stared down at her more because of this, than because of Yitzhak's words about God "changing His mind." Lowering his face nearer to hers, he told her, "That is going to need more than a sound-bite discussion. Before we move along to that, exactly what DID you hear about the Enclave administration?"

"That someone outside the fence attempted a coup d'etat, and the Overseers _inside_ the fence were helping whoever it was, and the coup failed; so except for a few who changed teams just in time, all the Overseers who've been riding on our butts are on the scragged list. The train guard was talking about it, and so were the station attendants. There look like being big changes, and it _seems_ that they'll be for the good."

"Did you hear anything about the Havens family being sucked into the situation?"

"No. And I hope that no news is good news on that front."

"I'll hope the same. Poor Alipang's been harassed enough."

Huldah's hands were almost imperceptibly working their way up Henry's back, trying to get a hold that would urge him to lean farther down toward her. "If the Havens family can just make it through this week, they may be seeing a real sunrise over this Enclave of ours. It could be... the very time... for people our age... to be making... a new start at, well, at lots of things." A downward pull, an upward stretch on the balls of her feet--and Huldah brought Henry's face down far enough that she could guide his mouth right onto her own mouth.

Henry Spafford of the White Mountain Apaches, slayer of bears and cougars, just could not find it in him to fight against this. It went on longer than all kissing on the lips that he had ever experienced in his life up to now, combined; actually, it only took the first nine seconds to pass that very modest landmark, but Huldah was out for more than the bare minimum of record-breaking. Only when _she_ was ready to come up for air, did it stop. Henry's eyes were wide, and his manly jaw hanging slackly down; so Huldah spoke into the vacuum of his astonishment:

"Don't worry, Henry, I'm not luring you away from your faith, I _really_ intend to join it myself. It really _does_ make more sense than calling God evil. And I'll be a good girl now, and not kiss you again until you feel more at ease about the spiritual situation."

"Um...uh...yeah, that...I mean, you...Huldah, there's something else I need to tell you. I haven't mentioned this to many people, besides my Grange friends like Alipang. But you should know it, before you make decisions that you need to count the cost about. For all the time we've lived in the Enclave, the Overseers have been chemtrailing the air around us with a lithium tranquilizer formula, to make us tame and obedient. Maybe the effect of those vapors on you is making you _artificially_ receptive to my beliefs, even though that wouldn't be an outcome the Overseers were looking for. But if they're pulling out, there's a good chance that the chemical-spray planes will stop drugging us. For myself, I believe that I have a resistance to them anyway; but you need some time, to see if regaining a normal state of free will changes the way you feel about Jesus and me."

Huldah's eyebrows rose. "Chemtrails? I always thought those were an urban legend from United States days."

"Not here. Alipang and I have run into the sprayers."

Suddenly, she laughed. "Gives a new meaning to our having chemistry between us! But Mister Spafford, I believe that I love you, and that it _isn't_ because of any airborne perfumes. All the same, sure, let's see if a few days make any difference. But I see no need for you to delay teaching me some more about your beliefs."

"I guess that's right. And...if it's okay with you...since I have my own cabin, if I sleep there tonight, it would be perfectly all right for you to stay over in the main cabin. Stay overnight, Huldah. Please. I do like being with you."

So it was that, while completely left out of the events that shook the Diversity States government, Henry Spafford was immersed in events that would change HIS world.
 
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A Hasty, Slapdash Summary of the Latest Developments ​


As part of eroding the Campaign Against Hate's near-total monopoly on law enforcement in the Western Enclave, the Agriculture Department expedited more Forest Rangers taking assignments there. In the vanguard of these was Forest Ranger Kostas Demophilos, who confided to Alipang some of the suspicions the other law-enforcement agencies had about what Nash Dockerty was really up to.

A gift came to Henry Spafford from Odette Galloway: a new hunting bow, made out of a synthetic material called Everstrain, which magnified the force of the person drawing the bow. Henry then proceeded on his planned visit to Huldah Rosenbaum in Greybull Valley, where he found that all her neighbors seemed to be in on a conspiracy to persuade him to marry the shepherd girl. Huldah herself retained a good sense of proportion and humor about this, and even told Henry that his arguments in favor of the gospel of Christ made sense. During this excursion, Henry came across new evidence of the Overseers being engaged in some illicit project; but he kept out of the whole business. And indeed, it was not necessary for him to involve himself afresh, as the large hunting party Alipang was part of picked up similar clues.

Another nail was driven into Nash Dockerty's coffin by the Energy Undersecretary sending Rick Pelham as a messenger to Ma'at Randall in Australia--urging her to stop waiting and testify against Dockerty to the Hemispheric Union and the United Nations. Worse yet, an arrest in Texas, in which Emilio Vasquez played a part, uncovered strong evidence of Chief Justice Sherman Lake being at the head of the secret actions by rogue Overseers inside the Enclave and fake Marshals outside it. The Secretary of Indoctrination, and the Continental Marshal of the D.S. Marshals' Service, saw to it that Lake was arrested--WITHOUT Dockerty knowing that this had happened. They were giving the Deputy Commander rope to hang himself. A very few Overseers, notably Maria Butello, saved themselves by secretly "turning" before the final confrontation.

Meanwhile, in Delaware, Dan and Chilena, under increasing pressure to let at least one of their children join the atheistic "Pioneers," bargained their way once again to a tolerable compromise. Their poetically-gifted son Tommy was allowed to become a Pioneer, on the condition that he not be required to make any open statements hostile to the Christian faith or to normal marriage and parenthood.

Vice-President Carlos Anselmo secretly warned Daffodil Ford that he, Daffodil, might be in danger from the Overseers' plot. Daffodil released Moonrose and Bailey to seek safety outside the fence, but he stayed in the Enclave, where Alipang determined to visit him. Peter Tomisaburo, meanwhile, had reported what he knew about the state of affairs to a miniature robot the Chinese government sent in for his benefit.

Even now, with cause to fear that his treachery was being uncovered, Nash Dockerty was obsessed with personal revenge against Alipang. So he sent a large goon squad, posing as the imaginary "Ku Klux Quakers," to assault Alipang and Daffodil when the two of them were together. Alipang shielded the boy with his body, but did not fight back at all, fearing that any such action by him would be made into an excuse for reprisals against Kim and their children. Fortunately, the Marshals and Transport Police--led by none other than the Energy Undersecretary, who turned out to have military experience!--had been expecting exactly this. They saved Alipang's life, and went on to storm Dockerty's office building. Foolishly expecting last-minute help from Sherman Lake, Dockerty ended up dying, as did his cold-blooded hitmen Vargas and Huddleston. Around the same time, the Continental Marshal, assisted by some Grange members as trackers, raided and captured the illegal anti-aircraft installation Dockerty had been setting up under holographic concealment. This would have been used to prevent government aircraft from getting into the Enclave when Sherman Lake made his move to seize the Presidency.

With Dockerty dead (though the news media were instructed only to say he had been arrested), and the prudent behavior of exiles vindicated, there began to be every sign that the reorganized Enclave regime would be substantially more humane--for instance, getting rid of the particle beams which the Overseers had used as a threat to hold over the exiles' heads. On the outside, the position of the Texas Rangers was greatly improved: they finally had the promised new aircraft delivered from Mexico, and they witnessed the execution of many of the conspirators who were to blame for murders of Rangers. As icing on the cake, Emilio was offered the chance to command a Texan contingent INSIDE the Enclave.

In the aftermath of these favorable turns of fortune, and while Alipang was recuperating from his injuries, Ransom Kramer decided that God was definitely leading him to become Amish. And Huldah, convinced for her part that it was right for her to become a Christian, paid a return visit to Henry--to his whole family, actually--and declared to him that she loved him.
 
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Chapter 81: Banking Hours To Serve You Better


Some nations which were not active supporters of the secret army for freedom, still made an occasional gesture of accommodation to it. This was particularly helpful as a means of keeping the army's planning meetings unpredictable to any adversary. Today, as January was about to end, a meeting was being hosted by Japan, member-state of the Pacific Federation.

There was a reason why the Pacific Federation was not merely an enslaved appendage of Greater China. Brendan Hyland and his companions, among whom were Darcie Beale and Etienne LaClede, were walking close to the reason, as they conducted their conference hidden in plain sight. The weapon installation they were touring was a thing they might find interesting for its own sake, so that their mere presence here was no conspicuous clue to their actual business. No one but the members of the Pacific Federation possessed this particular weapon design. Here outside the seaport of Aomori, as at many other sites in Japan and elsewhere, stood enormous soundwave projectors, whose directed vibrations could shoot down incoming missiles or aircraft, demolish the machinery of surface ships, or shift to wider dispersal to kill huge numbers of enemy troops coming in by sea or air. Yet neither the use of the weapons, nor the means of providing electricity for them to work, involved any radioactive materials. This fact had made the system attractive to the Japanese, who wanted NO MORE of nuclear disasters. And since all the weapons were deployed in a defensive manner, Beijing could not complain of aggressive intent on the part of the Japanese and the Australians--yet Beijing knew that any offensive against Pacific Federation member-states would be extremely costly for the attackers, despite the lesser numbers of the defenders.

Among the technicians who manned these always-alert weapon installations were Taiwanese expatriates, ready for any Communist Chinese invader to make their day.

Today, the freedom fighters who trudged through the deep snow of northern Honshu were discussing the planned mission to Switzerland; but no listening device would be able to hear them, since the sonic equipment of the installation could easily be programmed to create white-noise barriers around their location. There were actually two citizens of Greater China in Brendan's planning group; the Japanese were allowing them here, since they had submitted to a scan for espionage devices, and from outdoors they would not see anything about the sound projectors that was not already public knowledge. Nyunt Zeyar knew better than to intrude where he wasn't authorized; so did the Chinese woman, Yang Li-Hu, a niece of Aerospace Force General Yang, who was the only person in the group not well known to Brendan.

Miss Yang, a civilian space pilot, now asked Brendan, "Have India's Dacoits determined where their targets will be? And is the multiple-diversion sequence decided on?"

"Yes to both," replied the Marine Corps veteran. "According to their intel, there is almost no likelihood that the terrorists they want to execute will make any movements during our time window that would mandate any change in OUR plans. Therefore, the following sequence is as near to set in stone as any plan can be in the real world.

"A little before eleven p.m. local time, your ship will descend with its pretended emergency. Fifteen minutes after you make your apparent crash landing in the park, the Indian special-forces units will begin terminating their terrorist targets, nice and loudly. The Caliphate authorities won't be quick to assume that a Chinese ship was furnishing distraction for the benefit of Indians; they should accept it as coincidence, at least coincidence as far as YOUR actions are concerned. The second Chinese ship, with Mr. Zeyar and our penetration team on board, will be on its way down, supposedly to assist. We'll bail out in the high troposphere, with our stealth pressure suits and stealth parasails. Before we descend near the bank building, Agent Kohen's team will stage their ambulance accident as a further diversion."

"I'll be supervising the use of the special binary adhesives to let us move around on the bank's exterior," Darcie put in. "The Caliphate people don't think anyone CAN climb on that ultra-slick surface, so all their anti-personnel measures are set against penetration through the inside."

"And when we have the transaction data from the bank building," Etienne concluded, "we'll proceed on foot to where some of Colonel Parnescu's infiltrators will be waiting to extract us in ground vehicles."

"This will be the most seriously military thing I've ever done," remarked Miss Yang.

"The very fact that you and I are known to be civilians helps here," Nyunt Zeyar told her. "It makes the 'innocent' emergency more plausible. Just remember, when you're on the ground, to STAY WITH your crew. Some of the Islamists there will be indignant over a mere woman having been allowed to pilot a spaceplane. Which adds to the distraction effect on the ground."

Miss Yang nodded. "Now I understand why my uncle made me undergo a hypno-enhancement of my self-defense skills. I hope that the financial secrets we're fishing for are worth all this complex risk-taking."

"It's a matter of proving whose hands have been in whose cookie jar," said Brendan.
 
Senior Deputy Marshal Rodney Camberville, surviving the less-dramatic additional purges which had followed the semi-public executions in Washington, had done better than survive: to his pleasant surprise, he had been promoted to fill the Operations Marshal vacancy left by the late Barbara Weckerling. His first official assignment in this capacity, ordered by the Continental Marshal, was merely as a courier, but a highly secret courier, and going to no less a personage than President Jessica Trevette.

Though admitted to the Rainbow House by a back entrance, Camberville was treated very courteously once inside, and soon was ushered into the Oval Office, where the President awaited him in something like lingerie.

"Oh! Excuse me, Madam President! There must be a mistake, I'm sorry, I'll just--"

"No mistake," the spectacular woman purred at him from the divan where she reclined. Rising to her feet, she added, "That is, no mistake unless you forgot to bring the data modules."

"Um, they're here, Madam President, with all security seals intact. You can brainwave-scan me to verify that I _don't_ know what's on them."

"No need, Rodney. I plan to verify _other_ things about you, though;" and the President of the Diversity States came sweeping right up to the new Operations Marshal, to embrace him, kiss him, and continue startling him from there....

It was more than two hours before she finished verifying what she wanted to verify about the astonished Rodney Camberville. But when it was finished, she suddenly turned cool and impersonal, ordering the Operations Marshal never to tell anyone what had passed between them, and never to expect a repeat invitation. He thus departed, half happy and half perplexed, telling himself just to be glad that he still had his promotion and the President's trust.

Several minutes after Camberville departed the Rainbow House, another man entered the Oval Office; and all the warmth Jessica had given to the courier and then withdrawn, was now redoubled for this man. Half an hour of lovemaking passed, with Jessica showing no fatigue or loss of enthusiasm after her previous encounter, before they even began to talk about practical things. The President allowed her lover to read, with her, the classified records Camberville had brought.

"I'm impressed," murmured the handsome guest into Jessica's ear. "Sherman Lake, and the other two in it with him, seem to have collected three times as much extortion money as any of us estimated."

Jessica kissed her lover, then remarked, "And since the Chief Justice doesn't need it anymore, we'll find a safe place to put it. Of course, there's no need for your father to know."

"Of course not. I trust your judgment. Where are you going to deposit it?"

"With people who, officially, despise me for being a woman placed in charge of a nation. It's going to the Righteous Crescent Islamic Bank of Zurich." Having said this, Jessica shut off the stand-alone data reader (it wouldn't do to have this information on any network), and resumed sharing pleasure with the man who had come a risky and roundabout way to be here, unknown to anyone but a few trusted associates.

The man was Emilio Formentera, son and heir-presumptive to El Presidente Tonio Formentera of the People's Aztec-Maoist Republic of Aztlan.

 
At the Ugandan hospital which had ties to the secret army, Josiah Redfern came to work on the first day of February, to receive a surprise from the administrator Setyabulleh Mawejje. In a private meeting in the hospital's most shielded room, Dr. Mawejje handed something unexpected to the medical technologist: a high-velocity flechette pistol.

"I know you used to have a concealed-carry permit back in America. Starting today, you have one in Uganda. It's all been processed. Other qualified persons at this hospital are also being issued permits, and weapons. This piece carries fourteen shots per magazine, and you're getting seven magazines. We're setting up a practice range in the sub-basement." The pistol he had given to Josiah was made of plastic and ceramics, thus invisible to magnetic sensors; the former soldier had heard of this type, whose flechette darts were made of high-grade composite material.

"Is there a threat to the hospital?" Josiah asked. "And if yes, does it extend to the families of employees?"

"The answer to both is, only potentially. Ugandan security forces will be stepping up their patrols around all neighborhoods where any of our employees live--and yes, around the schools and colleges that their children attend. But within hospital grounds, we want every military veteran armed and ready IN CASE anything happens. As for the reason, it's plain enough. Our big intel-gathering mission in Europe is about to start. If successful, it will capture information that could mightily embarrass tyrannical regimes in the eyes of the United Nations; but if those regimes obtain information about OUR people, they're likely to plan reprisals. Arming our staff is just proactive readiness; we hope it will prove to have been unnecessary."

Josiah sighed. Fantasizing about getting back into soldierly action was one thing; being handed a gun at age forty-four, when he was out of practice in combat shooting, was another thing. (He had three rifles at home, but no one had asked him to carry them around at his workplace.) Still-- "Nothing wrong with readiness; it beats being blindsided."

"It surely does. The more so because, even if the European mission maintains perfect secrecy, we are about to have one other hypothetical cause for danger, though the planners over in Nigeria are confident that they have the trail sufficiently covered up."

"Whose trail would that be?" Josiah was already aware that sometimes members of the network faked their own deaths as a way to avoid real death.

"A married couple from America; they'll be working here for at least two months as clerical staff. I'm afraid that by need-to-know rules, I can't tell you who they were before; but you will get to meet them." Using his desk intercom, Dr. Mawejje summoned the new arrivals into the secure office. The husband, a taller man than Josiah, had both a military bearing, and an air of having suffered some harsh ordeal not too long ago. The wife, an eye-catching Hispanic beauty, radiated love and solicitous concern for her husband.

"Josiah Redfern, Iraqi Freedom veteran, meet the people we will know here as Morris and Gloria Bergstrom." Josiah rose to shake hands with them both, taking pains NOT to prolong the handclasp with the stunning wife.

"Good to meet a fellow veteran," Morris told Josiah, "even if I can't swap yarns with you."

"I don't get to tell my war stories, either," added Gloria. "But I'll tell you this: Morris and I know something whose disclosure would be VERY damaging to some people who deserve to be damaged."

"One more thing," said the former U.S. Navy officer Morton Tannenburg, now Morris Bergstrom. "Gloria and I both owe a debt of gratitude to a clown."

Josiah thought about his wife Melody. Her father, and one of her male cousins, had been secret agents for the United States; but she herself had only wanted a normal family life, and Josiah had been able to give her this, even as emigrants. Now, he had to wonder whether the secret war was coming too close to home. And yet, NOT making any contribution to the right side in that war had never been an option.

 
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About eighty-two hours after Josiah Redfern was introduced to the former Gloria Cervantes and her husband, five Islamic-fascist men, veterans of homicidal activity with Hezbollah and other terror gangs, were having a dinner party at a villa on the outskirts of Zurich. Not one of them suspected that this was their last night on Earth; still less that their Indian Dacoit executioners would be helped by a diversion provided by India's rival China.

Up in high Earth orbit, beyond the western edge of the field of sight the Swiss Alps allowed, two passenger spaceplanes made ready to disembark in close succession from the Orbital Palace. The first one to drop free from its berth was piloted by Miss Yang Li-Hu, and was supposed to be going to Moscow. Li-Hu's fellow crewmembers, and all of the seemingly ordinary passengers, were prepared to take the risk of arrest on Caliphate soil, with no more knowledge of the reason than the bald statement that it was in Greater China's interests that they should seem to have a narrow escape from dying in a crash as they made re-entry.

The second spaceplane was supposed to be routed for Beijing. Also crewed by Chinese nationals, part of its onboard space was devoted to cargo--items manufactured in zero gravity. The ship had no Greater Chinese citizens as passengers except Nyunt Zeyar. Besides the big Burmese, it carried Etienne LaClede, Brendan Hyland, Stan Lewandowski, Darcie Beale, and Jackson Alyard. None of them possessed any weapons, for getting into anything like a fight would mean they had already failed. Their first line of defense consisted in the elaborate concealment and misdirection arrangements which had been so long in preparing; their second line of defense was the mental conditioning which, in case of capture, would erase their knowledge of the mission without wiping out their personalities. Their last line of defense was the well-known fact that the Chinese government would not take kindly to persons under its protection being tortured or murdered.

Li-Hu's ship assumed its descending trajectory... but soon experienced what seemed like an accidental failure of electrical systems, which interfered with attitude control. As Li-Hu's convincing distress call made plain, this placed them in danger of entering atmosphere at a bad angle and aspect, which could mean the ship's destruction. With luck, Li-Hu's nick-of-time recovery of enough control to avoid incineration would seem--like luck.

General Yang himself, calling from the space hotel, showed just the right anxiety for his niece's predicament, as he opened communications with Caliphate air-traffic authorities and announced the emergency. It would become data in several major global databases that the Islamic Realm of Europe had been informed that this was no invasion, only a forced-landing situation. Thus the Islamists would not be able to fire on the incoming spacecraft without rousing Beijing against them. Interrogating the occupants of the ships was another matter; for this reason, Yang Li-Hu's own memory processing would make her forget the truth about her own "heroic" emergency landing as soon as she was on the surface of the Earth, regardless of whether or not the same safeguard proved necessary for the others.

The second ship, with Brendan's team on board, had separated from its berth shortly before the first ship got into its choreographed peril. The Chinese cosmonauts did an emergency burn to pursue the stricken spaceplane, ostensibly to come alongside, execute docking, and pull the other ship up into orbit again. But as they were catching up, a low-orbit satellite--actually something deliberately added to the mix--came dangerously close, forcing the second spaceplane to veer upwards to avoid being hit. So Li-Hu was on her own for the re-entry; but the second ship committed itself to following her down. And what do you know, the improvised new descent path led right into Switzerland. Since the second ship did not have to pretend a loss of control, its descent was slower than that of the first, so that there would be the desired time separation between one landing and the next.

Eleven kilometers above sea level, the penetration team, along with the observer Nyunt Zeyar, bailed out, their stealth gear allowing them to go completely unnoticed in the night sky. Just before they had egressed their ship, Darcie Beale had sprayed everyone's gloves and bootsoles with a chemical which was one half of the binary formula designed to let them cling on the frictionless exterior of the Righteous Crescent Building. It was going to be touchy going spraying the other component onto the building wall.

Radio receivers kept them advised of Li-Hu's progress. She made a spectacular landing, on a street which the Islamo-Swiss authorities had been able to clear of traffic. There were no fatalities....

...except for the terrorists in the villa. When all of Zurich had turned its eyes on the drama of the disabled spaceplane and the second craft which had followed it down, the Dacoits broke into the nest of murderers. Not one of the terrorists escaped; but in contrast to the terrorists' own missions in the past, NOT ONE INNOCENT BYSTANDER was harmed in any way. The leader of the Dacoits made sure to point out this difference to the terrorists, before the terrorists died in the most frightful agony and with pig's blood smeared on their bodies. Only after all the bystanders were safely evacuated, and the getaway vehicles were in readiness, did the Dacoits blow up the building, which added to the ground-level excitement in the city at large.

Brendan's party, equipped with night-vision devices, took its time descending through the starless winter air. Before they made contact with the tall bank building, Yirimyahu Kohen, Akhmed Ballul, and three fellow agents had staged their fake ambulance accident. The jihadist cops had more than enough to hold their attention, so that none of them should be staring at the top of a building whose exterior was supposed to be unscalable.

Everything was going right for the good guys so far.
 
Captain Lewandowski, the one career flier in the team, was the most proficient at handling the parasails--thus, the one with the best chance of making his parasail climb UP again. He, accordingly, made the first pass at the rounded, featureless penthouse of the featureless bank building. With a very small dispenser, he sprayed a small amount of the first component of the binary adhesive on a suitable spot; then he thumbed a switch that would cause his device to burst silently into little, unrecognizable pieces. This done, he shot up higher than his companions. But even he could not stay up forever; it was imperative to create an area that all of them could hang on to.

Ex-firefighter Darcie Beale, who was carrying the bulk of both chemical components, put all her concentration, helped by her night-vision goggles, into alighting directly on that sprayed patch. When her treated gloves and bootsoles came into contact with the wall, she knew her aim had been true (and that Lewandowski had covered enough surface area for her benefit). Hands and feet stuck to the wall; she could pull them free at will with a sufficient effort, and her hands would not stick to anything ELSE. Therefore, she could handle her gear unimpeded. As quickly as she could safely do it, using one hand and then the other, she sprayed portions of wall above herself and on either side.

Brendan came in and caught hold at her left; Nyunt at her right; and Etienne and Jackson above her. The former banker and the electronics expert sprayed their small share of the first adhesive component beside and above themselves, creating extra space to move around at need. At the same time, both Nyunt and Brendan, it being more awkward reaching beneath their own perches, gave the wall below them as good a spraying as they could manage. This was adequate for Stan Lewandowski, swooping back in a moment later, to get his own grip on the wall below everyone else, out of the way of the two men doing the real work.

Now came a point of no return. Rather than be encumbered by the parasails while hanging on a near-vertical surface, all of the infiltrators disconnected them. These items also disintegrated in the air after being cut loose. Now the infiltrators' lives and their escape depended entirely on being able to climb down the building by means of the adhesive. Darcie, her firefighter's climbing skill remaining in her brain and body, maneuvered here and there to refresh the on-the-surface ingredient around where her companions were working. When they were ready to descend, she would also, as opportunity offered, refresh the second ingredient on everyone's palms and soles.

Jackson Alyard wielded a device like a medical injector, to feed the prepared nanobots right into the substance of the wall. As programmed, these nanobots linked up with the other nanobots which Akhmed Ballul had previously insinuated into the bank's interior, forming the virtual-antenna array which would pass data right along a chain of nanobots to the outer surface. Etienne LaClede held a receiver which took in the data which the earlier planting of nanobots had passively absorbed over the weeks since their insertion.

Reading codes which made sense only to a modern banker (the Caliphate had not gone to the effort of creating fundamentally new types of codes, for their isolation from networks had seemed like protection enough), the Swiss emigrant separated out those portions of the financial records which were intended to be shared with the Chinese. With a tight and low-powered encrypted beam, he transmitted this information straight into a data device carried by Nyunt Zeyar. Then he transmitted the entire body of data (minus a few parts which, based on prior tips, they could be sure the Chinese didn't want THEM to see) into similar devices carried by the others of the party. This meant that as long as even one of them got to safety, the secret army would possess the targetted information--though that information's value would be greatly reduced if the Caliphate KNEW that they had it.

When they were all ready to descend, Darcie worked her way down past Lewandowski, spraying more of the surface component as she went. She thus became the leader on the way down to the streets. They were descending on a side of the bank which, at ground level, was flanked by seldom-visited utility structures; but if anyone DID somehow come to that part and spot them, Darcie would be the first one grabbed. She had suffered enough abuse at the hands of men who had guns, back in the concentration camp in the D.S.A.; if the worst happened here, she intended to force them to kill her--which might help the others get away. But of course she hoped nothing of the kind would happen, both for her own sake and for Brendan's sake, since his Marine Corps spirit would compel him, however much he wanted to get back to his wife and children, to fight beside a comrade and take out some enemies with him. Darcie had formed a high opinion of Brendan during their training; though she had given up on finding a decent man for herself in the degenerate modern world, she wished only good to the few, the proud, the darn-it-already-taken decent men who remained.
 
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Fortunately for the penetration team and its Chinese observer, the staged near-disaster had succeeded gloriously in capturing attention. The last thing Yang Li-Hu did before she lost her memory of how brilliantly she had really performed, was to throw a switch that would help eliminate the evidence. She had never for an instant really lost control of her spaceplane; specially-installed control circuits, not showing up on the ship's computer, had taken the place of the burned-out regular circuits, enabling her to use all her piloting skill unhindered. Now, the switch caused those extra circuits to self-destruct.

When Darcie Beale, Stan Lewandowski, Brendan Hyland, Nyunt Zeyar, Etienne LaClede and Jackson Alyard reached the street, there were two vehicles coming, as if by chance, from opposite directions to pick them up. The drivers were, like Yirimyahu Kohen, deep-cover Mossad agents. They took two halves of the party to two locations far across Zurich, from which other agents transported them out of the city to where they would reunite. After covering a kilometer or so on foot, they were picked up by a stealth hovercraft like the one aboard which both Lewandowski and Alyard had taken part in the "music raid" upon Wismar. This carried them in turn to where they transferred onto a stealth lighter-than-air ship, which got them out of Switzerland entirely. They passed down into Italy, the part of the European Caliphate where the Islamist rulers were the LEAST hostile and paranoid; from Italy, it would be easier for them to trick their way onto further transportation. It was at a spaceport in Tuscany that Nyunt Zeyar bade farewell to the new friends with whom he had shared this adventure. The Burmese would be flying back up to the Orbital Palace, escorted by some of Yang Peng-Zhu's men who met him at the spaceport; the others were bound for Africa by a Mexican hypersonic liner.

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

With no uncleared personnel on their hypersonic liner--its crew actually hand-picked by President Andreas Garcia, one of the heads of state most friendly to the secret army--Brendan's group, guided by Etienne, allowed themselves to start reading the dirty secrets they had just un-swept out from under the rug. There was plenty to be seen, affecting nations both friendly and unfriendly; but probably the most outstanding item in the eyes of the covert adventurers was the enormous deposit which had been made in Righteous Crescent Bank scarcely a day before.... by Diversity States President Jessica Trevette. Making it still more intriguing, one other person was shown as being allowed access to the account she was using. As Etienne explained, there had to be at least one male name on any account at Righteous Crescent; but of all possible male partners in this bank account, Jessica Trevette had chosen Emilio Formentera of Aztlan.

"Surely this is incriminating enough to allow for finally denouncing Trevette before the whole world," griped Jackson Alyard.

Having become friendly with Jackson during the mission workup, though he was too young for her to take a romantic interest, Darcie now teased him: "You just can't forgive her for having the same last name as the character from Walker, Texas Ranger."

The others smiled--except for Brendan, who judged that it was time now to reveal something. "Since we do indeed have dirt now on the Bimbo President, and since it's Aztlano dirt, let me tell you all something I've known for days." He paused, letting them all turn their attention to him. "This will prove once again that a beautiful snake is still a snake. Some of you know already that a former U.S. Naval Intelligence officer was rescued, complete with fake death, after years of captivity in Aztlan. He's been able to tell us various interesting things about the ruling Formentera family and its associates; but one thing he's told us is SO incendiary, that we've been holding it back lest the telling do more harm than good. Now that we have other evidence of Trevette's disloyalty to her country--to MY country, and yours, Darcie and Jackson, what's left of it--the time is coming closer when we'll use this bombshell. Trusting all of you not to get flap-jawed, I'll tell you now; after the mission we've pulled off together, you deserve some inside knowledge."

Brendan thought about all his Marine friends who had fought in good faith against worldwide terrorism, but who had been rewarded by having to wonder how serious their government had been about it even before the Fairness Revolution. Then he told his new secret-agent friends: "While the Navy officer was a captive, he was forced to witness Aztlano human sacrifices on an 'Altar of Solar Influence.' And one of the persons he saw killing helpless victims with her own hands....was Jessica Trevette."

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

On the ascending flight out of atmosphere, Nyunt Zeyar was also privileged to look at the data he had obtained for his own government. (They could just edit his memory if they decided something was too sensitive to let him remember.) This, after Nyunt heard reports picked up on the spaceplane's encrypted communication system: that Yang Li-Hu and those with her were going to be returned to the Chinese without a squabble, and that the Indian Dacoits had accomplished their own mission to terminate men who had murdered Indian citizens.

The outside news was good enough. But it was to be grimly outweighed, at least in terms of emotional impact, by the most dramatic single piece of information in the records Etienne LaClede had furnished for Beijing. The Islamic bank's account records revealed that a highly-placed Chinese officer, till now never suspected of any corruption, had for more than two years been engaged in unauthorized financial transactions both with the Triad gangs, and with the semi-political gangs of Aztlan.

Nyunt was dismayed, at a loss to think how he could break the news to his friend Yang Sung-Kuo, if indeed Nyunt could BE the one to tell it.

The corrupted man was Major Yang's superior at Internal Affairs, General Shuei.
 
Chapter 82: Pre-Processed Organic Fuel Hits The Fan


Another spaceplane brought back to the Orbital Palace all those participants in the Zurich venture who were subjects of Greater China. General Yang Pang-Zhu met the ship at the airlock. Everyone on board except Nyunt Zeyar was ordered to wait where they were for twenty minutes before disembarking--even the General's niece; and the big Burmese soon discovered that the whole hotel was on a temporary lockdown, ostensibly in connection with technicians rectifying an atmosphere-purity problem. Nyunt was no fool, but as four armed guards escorted him and General Yang along eerily empty passageways, he decided that he must not have thought through all the implications of the information he was bringing from Righteous Crescent Islamic Bank.

Presently he and Yang were alone in a secure chamber, where the General accepted the data device from the mission liaison, then connected a brainwave-scanner to Nyunt's head. "Comrade Zeyar, was this device _ever_ out of your direct control? Did anyone other than yourself, including members of LaClede's team, have a chance to see its contents?"

"No to both questions, General." Nyunt felt a cold certainty that if Yes had been the true answer to either question, his career would be ending. "They allowed me to interrogate their devices with my own, to confirm that they had honored our agreement on compartmentalizing the intelligence, reserving the requested account numbers for only us to know about."

Satisfied, the older man disconnected the lie detector, and began reading the files in the data device. Not until some twelve minutes later did he break the silence by uttering a burst of Chinese obscenities, then a world-weary sigh. This informed Nyunt that Yang had come upon the incriminating information about his fellow general.

"If I believed in God, I would now be thanking Him for three things. First, that this information was hand-carried here, not _transmitted_ in any way whatsoever. Second, that the roundeyes agreed to the separation of intelligence collection. And third, that I had authority over _which_ personnel of ours became involved. Because of these facts, I can still be _almost_ entirely certain that no guilty party knows yet that he has been found out." He shook his head. "General Shuei! We thought _someone_ highly placed was hiding high-level bribe money, but I never would have guessed Shuei."

Nyunt's first words after this speech bespoke his immediate concern: "General, surely this can't mean that Yang Sung-Kuo will come under suspicion also because of his association with Shuei, can it?"

"In the days of Chairman Mao, it would have; but we're smarter now. Don't worry, that other Yang is among the relatively _very_ small number of totally trustworthy officers with Internal Affairs. He earned that confidence through his United Nations work, even before he was selected for that unusual mission to America last year. But do you realize how _many_ other personnel of that ministry will now have to be investigated? It's extremely unlikely that Shuei did all his dirty work singlehandedly."

"But sir, _what_ would Shuei have been doing?"

"You know about the incident in Hawaii, when a Triad assassin with some accomplices tried to murder your friend the Major. That gangster proved to be involved in the largely successful efforts by the Triads to influence Hawaii's nativist movement in directions favorable to gang collaboration with the Republic of Aztlan. From that time on, Beijing knew that there had to be someone high up helping the Triads to conceal their plans; without such assistance, the assassin could hardly have gotten hold of a micro-whip. Now, any of a dozen agencies at home could have been useful to the gangsters in various ways; but a top leader at Internal Affairs would be the perfect ally to cover up those parts of the illegal activity which took place on Chinese territory."

"Then, what will you do now, sir?"

"What I _can't_ do is denounce Shuei instantly...because there may be more traitors, whom we would _also_ need to catch, and who would do their best to blot out their tracks if Shuei were known to have been unmasked. Accordingly, I am going to edit this cluster of bank files, holding back the parts affecting Shuei. There's enough other material of interest that analysts will be kept busy and happy without knowing the big story for now. Over the next four or five days, I will be taking careful measures to inform Beijing of the situation without--_hopefully_ without letting any criminals have warning."

"Is there something more you want me to do in this regard, General?"

"Only one thing: return to your usual duties as if nothing were out of order. You did well on your stint as a spy, but to continue using you in highly classified work might lead some guilty person at home to guess that I needed you because I feared regular agents proving untrustworthy. By my acting complacent, there is more chance of keeping the traitors complacent until we can identify them all."

"Very well, sir. Shall I go report to my normal supervisor?"

"Yes, Comrade Zeyar. Probably it will trouble you, a week or a month from now, not to know how this investigation proceeded from this point. But that's the way of things: none of us ever knows _every_ chapter of the story. Try to be content with knowing that you have performed commendably, and that no one is threatening to arrest Yang Sung-Kuo."

 
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In his months of participation in the unnamed army of justice, Brendan Hyland had not so far had any personal dealings with the Texas Rangers; but this was now changed by the fact that the Texans were going to be crucially affected by the information gained in the Zurich mission. Consequently, it was Brendan who, with a certain Juan Riquelme to introduce him, came to a secret meeting at a safe house in Juarez, Mexico. Representing the Rangers were two men: Vice-Commandant Jed Brickhouse, whose name was known to Brendan, and a younger man whose name, Emilio Vasquez, rang a note of uncanny familiarity with the Marine veteran. Also waiting to meet Brendan was one non-Texan: an African-American district-police inspector named Leroy Lincoln.

The mystery about Lieutenant Vasquez didn't last long; and, ironically, it was dispelled precisely by Brendan's effort to _maintain_ a bit of mystery about himself. When Juan, as instructed in advance, told the two Texans that the newcomer bore the code name "Captain Lacrosse," Lieutenant Vasquez went wide-eyed and blurted out:

"Sangre del Salvador! You're my brother-in-law's highschool friend! You know Alipang Havens! Back before the takeover, when I was dating Alipang's sister who's my wife now, Alipang showed me your photo in his Smoky Lake East yearbook! You served with the Marines in Afghanistan!"

Brendan looked at Juan, then back at Emilio. "Bless me, I'm a loosh for thinking my alias was so clever! Well, yes, I am Al's friend, and I knew that Harmony married a Texas Ranger; forgive me for not remembering what the Ranger's name was. I had my hands full getting my family out of the States before the Fairness Party put its chains on everyone. So do you have any recent news about Al and his family?"

Emilio grinned a white-toothed grin. "I not only have news of them, I've _seen_ them recently!" He proceeded to tell a condensed version of how he had gotten away with visiting inside the Enclave; since the incident of Cecilia's heart attack had ended happily, he left that part out for the present.

By way of getting back to business, Vice-Commandant Brickhouse told Brendan, "We Rangers can make excuses for being in Mexico, since Washington has let us be the de facto front people for cooperation with the Mexicans; but Inspector Lincoln is from the Great Plains Federal District, and we had to go to _considerable_ pains to bring him here secretly. The surveillance-deception system that you folks helped us to plant inside the federal networks has them thinking he's still in Kansas, but he'll need to get back soon. I tell you this as reassurance that we take your contributions, and your news, very seriously."

"Understood." Brendan produced the data device in which he had been storing his copy of the captured banking information ever since the mission with Etienne LaClede. "Do you have data recorders ready to download and re-encrypt the files I'm carrying? Sergeant Riquelme has already made a copy for his own chain of command."

"The Rangers will take a copy, but I won't," said Inspector Lincoln. "I'm watched too closely to risk bringing this intel to my district. But I do need to have some idea of what's been learned."

"Yes, he does," Juan told Brendan, "because he is going to be part of the new pluralistic law-enforcement setup in the Western Enclave; and he will definitely be affected by the big decision the Texans have to make."

Nodding, Brendan addressed the three lawmen even as Brickhouse revealed his own data device: "What you are about to learn will weigh heavily in the Rangers' decision about whether to support seceding from the D.S.A. and joining the Mexican Alliance. There's plenty of relevant information for you here; but the most important area concerns the fact that the Aztlanos, at the _same_ time as they wage war against your crippled and handcuffed country, are _partnering_ with your own President in other matters."

"Hardly a surprise," growled Emilio, "after all the asinine speeches Senorita Trevette gives about US being at fault for being attacked!"

"But there's more to it. My organization already knew that President Trevette had slept with Emilio Formentera when making so-called state visits--"

"Blast her!" snapped the Vice-Commandant. "We shed our blood in her service, and _that's_ how she thanks us?"

"And with _that_ coyote!" said Emilio Vasquez. "Makes me want to change MY first name."

"But there's more," Brendan went on. "Jessica Trevette gets around; she's a revolving-door kind of woman. But in the case of El Presidente's son, he and Ms. Trevette are shown in these files to have conducted secret financial transactions for almost the whole time that the D.S.A. and Aztlan have existed. These transactions connect them to at least two of the radical Caliphates; and to the Venezuelan Alliance; and to the Chinese Triads; AND to the Neo-Marxist terrorists I fought in Nigeria last year."

"That summary covers most of the world's worst people," remarked Inspector Lincoln. "But with the remnant of the United States now so weak and restricted, what _interest_ can all those other players have in making us part of their plans?"

"The very fact that America IS that weak is a sort of camouflage," replied Brendan. "Whatever the schemers want to achieve in the long run, they probably think that China and India won't take as much notice of operations happening in the downtrodden former United States, as if something were happening in a more vigorous society like the Pacific Federation. We still don't have all the puzzle pieces; in particular, it _seems_ as if Emilio Formentera and Jessica Trevette have been doing their private financial activity _without_ the knowledge of Tonio Formentera, but we're not sure about that yet."

Juan interjected, "Also, take into account the fact that Senorita Trevette, although she has no nuclear weapons at her disposal, _does_ have the merciless heart of a professional killer." He said this because he already knew, from Brendan, what the others were about to find out.

Brendan paused for emphasis. "What Sergeant Riquelme is referring to is a fact we obtained by other means than the bank-penetration mission. An eyewitness has reported that Jessica Trevette, on one of her trysts with her totalitarian boyfriend, got her jollies by taking a knife in her own hands...and cutting out the hearts of prisoners in one of the Aztlano re-enactments of Aztec human sacrifice."

"My God, _nobody_ can cover for her in the international community if _that_ becomes openly known!" exclaimed Brickhouse. "Whether we secede or not, it should be possible to get her tried by a U.N. tribunal now."

"Don't be too certain," sighed Brendan. "The world already knows that human sacrifices _happen_ in Aztlan; and too much of the world accepts Formentera's flimsy excuse that the organs of the victims are used for transplants. After all, not that much time has passed since China was _selling_ transplant organs taken from their own freshly-murdered political prisoners."

"But surely this can weigh against Trevette when taken in _combination_ with the other incriminating evidence," argued Brickhouse.

"God willing, it can," Brendan agreed. "So you Rangers will need to judge whether you want to use all this intel to cement your justifications for secession from the Diversity States...or to work _within_ the regime and force changes for the good."

"I already know one question to ask which has to influence their decision," said Leroy Lincoln. "What about Vice-President Anselmo? He holds to the general socialistic and anti-Christian line of the Fairness Party, but at least he's always tended to resist enforcing the Party's will by gratuitous bloodshed. Is he clean enough that putting him in power instead of Jessica Trevette would be a genuine improvement?"

"Possibly so," Brendan told him. "At least, he does not appear anywhere in the history of underhanded money-laundering I've come to share."

"We'll be doing _plenty_ of hard brainstorming about this," remarked Emilio. "Brendan, I'll soon be back in the Enclave. Can I tell Alipang that I met you?"

"I wish I could say yes; but I have to ask you not to. Even if I was careless in my choice of a code name, I do have to try to preserve operational security. But thank you for at least letting ME know how things are with HIM."
 
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