The First Love Of Alipang Havens
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Copperfox
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Daffodil felt himself _less_ entitled than anyone else present to be part of the rejoicing, unless it were Emilio's co-pilot Lester Buckley. So, just as when he had made a point of talking to a non-family child on visiting the Eric Havens home last year, Daffodil now politely introduced himself to Lester. In conversing with this Ranger, the boy learned that Lester's errand was to look over another currently-unused helicopter in the Enclave capital, which like the medevac might be officially placed at the disposal of Emilio's little air force.
This was interesting enough; but presently, Daffodil discovered that he was not so much left out of other people's minds as he might have thought.
"Daffy?" said a gentle voice. No less than Harmony Havens, who had become Daffodil's ideal of womanhood, was actually _approaching_ him, singling him out on purpose for her attention. "I want you to know that *I* know that _you've_ played a role in making all this happiness possible... and I appreciate it. I appreciate YOU." Then she captured his face with her hands (as she had already captured his mind and spirit by her very existence)... drew the taller boy down toward herself... and softly but very noticeably kissed him on the lips, holding it a split-second longer than Cecilia had done with Wilson.
Daffodil was too stupefied -- more in a pleasant way than otherwise, but still overwhelmed --to make any sense of the comments many bystanders immediately began making. He only knew that SHE had kissed HIM.
Scarcely over one hour after the kiss that shook Daffodil's world, he and his crush, plus nieces of his crush from two households, were on their way by air to Rapid City, courtesy of the Texas Rangers. Daffodil, of course, had his "caregiver" to meet; the girl Cecilia Salisbury had never flown in helicopters before coming to the Enclave, and was now using her enthusiasm for the new experience as a way to distance herself from her fourteen-year-old cousin, to whom she had spoken very little after he bathed. Esperanza Havens was also new to riding in helicopters, but was mainly on the trip to share an adventure with her long-separated elder cousin; and Harmony was at once shepherding her nieces and visiting with her brother-in-law.
Daffodil did not dare to let himself hope that Harmony's motives for coming on this flight had _anything_ to do with him. He barely even looked at her; he was afraid of doing anything which would make her think that he was presumptuously feeling entitled to _more_ of her attention. If he offended her now, he was sure he would have another convulsion fit. Apart from asking Cecilia and Esperanza polite questions about the differences between their respective school experiences, he left it to the Texans up front to lead the conversation.
"The helo I'll be inspecting," Lester Buckley was telling the civilians as the medevac flew in a northeasterly direction at its assigned altitude, "belonged to the Overseers before they got the boot. While not a battlefield-grade gunship, it does mount a rotary cannon forward. The Lieutenant found out the other day that this is the same helo which was sent out for intimidation purposes, that time when Alipang witnessed the situation with a cultivating machine breaking down. There was one other like it in the inventory, but the Commerce Inspectors have claimed it. That's okay, we only need one for the Lieutenant to have a new toy."
"Make that 'new tool,' " Emilio corrected. "My good old Number 343 has never failed me; but it can't _shoot_ at anything. If, God forbid, we had to go into combat action with everything we've got, which isn't very much, I'd be more effective in an airborne command post if my command post wasn't _utterly_ defenseless."
"What about missile countermeasures?" Daffodil suddenly asked, just to show that he wasn't one hundred percent clueless about every practical subject in the world.
Emilio took the question seriously. "We have some possibility of obtaining those. The Chinese have less objection to our _diverting_ incoming missiles, than to our _shooting_ any missiles more formidable than the short-range air-to-air ones now carried by our Texas Tu-95's."
"Most of the hardware the renegade Overseers had in that illegal secret base of theirs is still in storage in Rapid City, under the seal of the triumvirate," put in Lester. "It may include the electronics for countermeasures. In fact, it might _even_ have a late Christmas present for Old 343: more countermeasures equipment, _plus_ a Class Four compact laser that can be mounted _above_ the rotor shaft."
"I won't raise my hopes too high on that," said Emilio.
Hearing words about not raising hopes too high caused Daffodil to cast a furtive glance toward Harmony. No danger there, he ruefully told himself. I have no hopes at all of anything with her. Only wishes.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Wilson, meanwhile, had grabbed his first chance to talk privately with his father. "Papa, do you know something about Cousin Cecilia that I don't?"
"Well, I remember the crib toys Dan bought for her, and you don't; but you have more recent things in mind. Like why she was so forward as to kiss you, but then did a one-eighty and wanted to avoid even speaking to you."
"Yeah, Papa. Why would she do that?"
"Son, we could be arrested and shot by the Fairness Party for daring to suggest that any female could _ever_ be illogical; so let's assume that Cecilia Ruth had _some_ reason for the drop in temperature. No daughter of my sister would play a vicious game of pretending to be affectionate while _already_ intending to turn cold minutes later; therefore something _spontaneous_ has to have occurred _after_ Cecilia kissed you. She sure was not with you while you bathed and got dressed, and she was acting aloof toward you, _only_ toward you, from the instant you reappeared in the living room. That leaves us a mighty narrow window of time for the cause of her changed attitude. Can you remember _exactly_ what you said to your cousin right after she kissed you?"
"Well, um, I said she knew how to make a big entrance, like her movie-star parents."
Alipang slapped his forehead. "That's the only possible explanation! Wilson, you've lived in the real world too continuously to know this, but it's a tradition that movie stars are colossal _phonies_ about showing affection. Cecilia must have thought that _you_ thought she didn't mean anything at all by kissing you! Fact is, she came to Sussex to see you more than anyone; so now she's insulted."
"Then I'll apologize to her as soon as I can talk to her again."
"As a rule, apologies to girls are good things. Only, it's possible that, between now and your next meeting, Cecilia herself will realize that you meant no offense. If so, she'll warm up to you again of her own accord. Pray for wisdom for yourself in this, but it may turn out that _nothing_ further will need to be said. Sometimes, just sometimes, damage is done by _excessive_ openness and frankness on delicate subjects."
Alipang was remembering a conversation with Chilena in a treehouse, long ago. He still had no intention of telling any mortal soul about that, ever.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
By virtue of advance calls, Emilio was able, even before they landed, to arrange for Harmony, Cecilia and Esperanza to be taken to the home of their family's local friend Ignacio Balubal, the pedicab man formerly of Lance Creek (a snow-clearance man when his pedicab was out of season); they would spend the night with Ignacio's family, while the male travellers would share Daffodil's own capital-city lodgings. The incoming airline passenger, the disgraced ex-ambassador, would be provided a room in the same building.
Once the medevac was settled in the aircraft-parking area and Harmony's contingent was on its way to Ignacio's house by light rail, Lester made his presence known to the Transport Police officers who had the armed helicopter in safekeeping. This left only Emilio accompanying the teenage internal diplomat as they waited in the concourse to see how late the government airliner would be.
Suddenly, with no one else near (though one never knew if listening devices were trained on them), the Commander of the Texas Rangers' Enclave Aviation Detachment said, "Young man, don't be scared because I ask this question, but I _would_ like to know: how long have you been in love with my wife's little sister?"
Daffodil became dizzy, swaying on his feet. Emilio noticed this immediately, and physically helped the boy to lower himself onto a seat. "I'm sorry, I forgot about your medical history," the Ranger apologized. "Al told me about it, but I've never _seen_ you looking any way but healthy; so I forgot. Even a man from Texas can have a brain-leak."
This was interesting enough; but presently, Daffodil discovered that he was not so much left out of other people's minds as he might have thought.
"Daffy?" said a gentle voice. No less than Harmony Havens, who had become Daffodil's ideal of womanhood, was actually _approaching_ him, singling him out on purpose for her attention. "I want you to know that *I* know that _you've_ played a role in making all this happiness possible... and I appreciate it. I appreciate YOU." Then she captured his face with her hands (as she had already captured his mind and spirit by her very existence)... drew the taller boy down toward herself... and softly but very noticeably kissed him on the lips, holding it a split-second longer than Cecilia had done with Wilson.
Daffodil was too stupefied -- more in a pleasant way than otherwise, but still overwhelmed --to make any sense of the comments many bystanders immediately began making. He only knew that SHE had kissed HIM.
Scarcely over one hour after the kiss that shook Daffodil's world, he and his crush, plus nieces of his crush from two households, were on their way by air to Rapid City, courtesy of the Texas Rangers. Daffodil, of course, had his "caregiver" to meet; the girl Cecilia Salisbury had never flown in helicopters before coming to the Enclave, and was now using her enthusiasm for the new experience as a way to distance herself from her fourteen-year-old cousin, to whom she had spoken very little after he bathed. Esperanza Havens was also new to riding in helicopters, but was mainly on the trip to share an adventure with her long-separated elder cousin; and Harmony was at once shepherding her nieces and visiting with her brother-in-law.
Daffodil did not dare to let himself hope that Harmony's motives for coming on this flight had _anything_ to do with him. He barely even looked at her; he was afraid of doing anything which would make her think that he was presumptuously feeling entitled to _more_ of her attention. If he offended her now, he was sure he would have another convulsion fit. Apart from asking Cecilia and Esperanza polite questions about the differences between their respective school experiences, he left it to the Texans up front to lead the conversation.
"The helo I'll be inspecting," Lester Buckley was telling the civilians as the medevac flew in a northeasterly direction at its assigned altitude, "belonged to the Overseers before they got the boot. While not a battlefield-grade gunship, it does mount a rotary cannon forward. The Lieutenant found out the other day that this is the same helo which was sent out for intimidation purposes, that time when Alipang witnessed the situation with a cultivating machine breaking down. There was one other like it in the inventory, but the Commerce Inspectors have claimed it. That's okay, we only need one for the Lieutenant to have a new toy."
"Make that 'new tool,' " Emilio corrected. "My good old Number 343 has never failed me; but it can't _shoot_ at anything. If, God forbid, we had to go into combat action with everything we've got, which isn't very much, I'd be more effective in an airborne command post if my command post wasn't _utterly_ defenseless."
"What about missile countermeasures?" Daffodil suddenly asked, just to show that he wasn't one hundred percent clueless about every practical subject in the world.
Emilio took the question seriously. "We have some possibility of obtaining those. The Chinese have less objection to our _diverting_ incoming missiles, than to our _shooting_ any missiles more formidable than the short-range air-to-air ones now carried by our Texas Tu-95's."
"Most of the hardware the renegade Overseers had in that illegal secret base of theirs is still in storage in Rapid City, under the seal of the triumvirate," put in Lester. "It may include the electronics for countermeasures. In fact, it might _even_ have a late Christmas present for Old 343: more countermeasures equipment, _plus_ a Class Four compact laser that can be mounted _above_ the rotor shaft."
"I won't raise my hopes too high on that," said Emilio.
Hearing words about not raising hopes too high caused Daffodil to cast a furtive glance toward Harmony. No danger there, he ruefully told himself. I have no hopes at all of anything with her. Only wishes.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Wilson, meanwhile, had grabbed his first chance to talk privately with his father. "Papa, do you know something about Cousin Cecilia that I don't?"
"Well, I remember the crib toys Dan bought for her, and you don't; but you have more recent things in mind. Like why she was so forward as to kiss you, but then did a one-eighty and wanted to avoid even speaking to you."
"Yeah, Papa. Why would she do that?"
"Son, we could be arrested and shot by the Fairness Party for daring to suggest that any female could _ever_ be illogical; so let's assume that Cecilia Ruth had _some_ reason for the drop in temperature. No daughter of my sister would play a vicious game of pretending to be affectionate while _already_ intending to turn cold minutes later; therefore something _spontaneous_ has to have occurred _after_ Cecilia kissed you. She sure was not with you while you bathed and got dressed, and she was acting aloof toward you, _only_ toward you, from the instant you reappeared in the living room. That leaves us a mighty narrow window of time for the cause of her changed attitude. Can you remember _exactly_ what you said to your cousin right after she kissed you?"
"Well, um, I said she knew how to make a big entrance, like her movie-star parents."
Alipang slapped his forehead. "That's the only possible explanation! Wilson, you've lived in the real world too continuously to know this, but it's a tradition that movie stars are colossal _phonies_ about showing affection. Cecilia must have thought that _you_ thought she didn't mean anything at all by kissing you! Fact is, she came to Sussex to see you more than anyone; so now she's insulted."
"Then I'll apologize to her as soon as I can talk to her again."
"As a rule, apologies to girls are good things. Only, it's possible that, between now and your next meeting, Cecilia herself will realize that you meant no offense. If so, she'll warm up to you again of her own accord. Pray for wisdom for yourself in this, but it may turn out that _nothing_ further will need to be said. Sometimes, just sometimes, damage is done by _excessive_ openness and frankness on delicate subjects."
Alipang was remembering a conversation with Chilena in a treehouse, long ago. He still had no intention of telling any mortal soul about that, ever.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
By virtue of advance calls, Emilio was able, even before they landed, to arrange for Harmony, Cecilia and Esperanza to be taken to the home of their family's local friend Ignacio Balubal, the pedicab man formerly of Lance Creek (a snow-clearance man when his pedicab was out of season); they would spend the night with Ignacio's family, while the male travellers would share Daffodil's own capital-city lodgings. The incoming airline passenger, the disgraced ex-ambassador, would be provided a room in the same building.
Once the medevac was settled in the aircraft-parking area and Harmony's contingent was on its way to Ignacio's house by light rail, Lester made his presence known to the Transport Police officers who had the armed helicopter in safekeeping. This left only Emilio accompanying the teenage internal diplomat as they waited in the concourse to see how late the government airliner would be.
Suddenly, with no one else near (though one never knew if listening devices were trained on them), the Commander of the Texas Rangers' Enclave Aviation Detachment said, "Young man, don't be scared because I ask this question, but I _would_ like to know: how long have you been in love with my wife's little sister?"
Daffodil became dizzy, swaying on his feet. Emilio noticed this immediately, and physically helped the boy to lower himself onto a seat. "I'm sorry, I forgot about your medical history," the Ranger apologized. "Al told me about it, but I've never _seen_ you looking any way but healthy; so I forgot. Even a man from Texas can have a brain-leak."
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Copperfox
Well-known member
Daffodil took a series of deep, slow breaths. "I'm all right. The _reason_ why I haven't had any fits lately is _because_ I've been around Alipang Havens and others like him. They give me peace instead of tension. This includes Harmony... which is why I've got feelings for her. She's so nice to me, so understanding. I don't _call_ it being in love, because I have no experience--but if this counts, I think she's the most wonderful woman alive. You're not going to _tell_ her I said that, are you?"
"She won't hear it from me, Daffy. But if she's as smart as Melody, she already _knows_ how you feel about her."
The boy sighed. "Then I guess she counts on me not to be an idiot-- not to try to reach so far above myself."
Emilio quietly laughed. "Pardon the laugh, son, but this is funny in a way which _doesn't_ make you an idiot. You speak of Harmony as far above you; and of course, her being about five years older does make that true in a sense--although under current law, you're _already_ well above age of consent. But you, by the vagaries of the Fairness Party, are a government official; and _she_ is an internal exile, potentially subject to punishment at the whims of _any_ government official. In the social scale, it's you who are far above her; but that doesn't even cross your mind. You not only don't _say_ it, I can tell that it doesn't even enter your thinking. Which means that, in a society which hustles narcissism for everyone who _isn't_ boarded in a Tolerance House, you are a fabulous thing. You, _Mister_ Ford, are a _modest_ young man. I like that in you; and Harmony, even if no intimate relationship is ever possible, doubtless likes the same thing in you."
While Emilio's party was waiting, one of the few other persons in the concourse came toward them. "Pinwheel!" Daffodil exclaimed--and said it as a name, not as a noun. The teenage boy approaching them, one who looked somewhat like Daffodil in height, build and hair color, was named Pinwheel Matfeyev. The two boys had crossed paths often since Daffodil had moved into Rapid City. Pinwheel was not an exile; his mother was chief cook at the government dining facility formerly used by the Campaign Against Hate and its Deputy Commander.
"Waiting for your chromosome source, eh?" said Pinwheel.
"Yes, I am. How did you hear that she was coming?"
"It isn't a secret. My own caregiver heard some Transport Police talking about it as she was supervising lunch today, and she told me. Now, you remember, I'm studying to be a journalist for the Department of Indoctrination. I asked my composition teacher if I could make a project for credit out of writing a news article about Ambassador Ford's arrival. She said she liked the idea, and she took it further: she said if it was good enough, she would ask Fidel North to approve of it being published by that man De Sulu in Wyoming."
"You mean De Soto."
"Right, sorry; I never met him."
"If you read any copy of the Wyoming Observer," Emilio interjected, "you'll find his name printed on the banner."
Pinwheel was taken aback a little at being addressed by a law-enforcement officer who was armed with a pistol and a telescoping baton. "Ulp, I'm sorry, sir, I didn't realize you were with Daf-- I mean, with Citizen Ford."
"As long as you don't mean the wrong thing by the word 'with,' yes, I'm with Daffy. In a more permanent sense, I'm _with_ the new police-aviation detachment from the Texas Federal District."
"Lieutenant Vasquez _commands_ it, actually," Daffodil specified. "Tomorrow, he'll be flying me, my mother and some others back to Wyoming Sector, where I'm working currently."
Pinwheel brightened. "Then he's part of the story! Sir, may I please ask _you_ a few questions for my article?"
Emilio courteously went along with being interviewed, telling harmless things both about the present errand and about his duty posting in general; it would pass the time. Pinwheel recorded all that was said with the audio pickup in his tablet computer--something he was allowed to have because he was not an exile. Just like all in-Enclave cellular telephones, it was DNA-keyed to work only for authorized users. Its components would self-destruct if a tamperer tried to cannibalize them.
At last, about an hour and five minutes late, the propellor-driven government airliner arrived. Enough prestige remained to Samantha Ford that she was let off the plane _ahead_ of the incoming bottom-ranked Distribution Department personnel who were the majority of her fellow passengers. When she came near where her welcoming committee stood, Emilio could see what was probably the _only_ thing (besides blind loyalty to the Party and its ways) that had ever helped her to rise in the diplomatic service.
Samantha was a beauty, in both face and shape, on a movie-star level. She could not be a day less than thirty-six years old, but she _looked_ not a day older than maybe twenty-three. Emilio knew that this was not merely cosmetics, either; Party oligarchs enjoyed unlimited access to healthcare assets which the proletariat seldom even saw, so this woman would have undergone processes like telomere preservation, which would _actually_ slow the aging process, giving the fortunate ones _real_ benefits in health and life expectancy.
Some of that would have worked to a significant extent even for very elderly persons, Emilio reflected; but the Party didn't want to be bothered with them. Easier to celebrate the completion of their lives. Of course, the elites will change that practice once _they_ get old. And this woman is guilty, if only by acquiescence, of that whole inhuman philosophy. How did she ever manage to be the mother of a good kid like Daffodil?
Samantha now trotted forward, merrily crying out her son's name...and embracing Pinwheel Matfeyev.
When her mistake was pointed out to her, Samantha pleaded in her own defense that she had drunk an unaccustomed amount of an unusually good wine that was served on the airplane. Once Emilio caught a whiff of her breath, he believed her explanation.
Though the ex-ambassador was in poor condition to conduct a newspaper interview, Daffodil entered the call-code of his friend's tablet computer in his dataphone, so that it would be possible for Pinwheel to do a remote interview after Samantha had slept off the wine. The teenage internal diplomat and the Texas Ranger then saw to claiming Samantha's baggage, after which they practically carried her to her lodgings.
"She won't hear it from me, Daffy. But if she's as smart as Melody, she already _knows_ how you feel about her."
The boy sighed. "Then I guess she counts on me not to be an idiot-- not to try to reach so far above myself."
Emilio quietly laughed. "Pardon the laugh, son, but this is funny in a way which _doesn't_ make you an idiot. You speak of Harmony as far above you; and of course, her being about five years older does make that true in a sense--although under current law, you're _already_ well above age of consent. But you, by the vagaries of the Fairness Party, are a government official; and _she_ is an internal exile, potentially subject to punishment at the whims of _any_ government official. In the social scale, it's you who are far above her; but that doesn't even cross your mind. You not only don't _say_ it, I can tell that it doesn't even enter your thinking. Which means that, in a society which hustles narcissism for everyone who _isn't_ boarded in a Tolerance House, you are a fabulous thing. You, _Mister_ Ford, are a _modest_ young man. I like that in you; and Harmony, even if no intimate relationship is ever possible, doubtless likes the same thing in you."
While Emilio's party was waiting, one of the few other persons in the concourse came toward them. "Pinwheel!" Daffodil exclaimed--and said it as a name, not as a noun. The teenage boy approaching them, one who looked somewhat like Daffodil in height, build and hair color, was named Pinwheel Matfeyev. The two boys had crossed paths often since Daffodil had moved into Rapid City. Pinwheel was not an exile; his mother was chief cook at the government dining facility formerly used by the Campaign Against Hate and its Deputy Commander.
"Waiting for your chromosome source, eh?" said Pinwheel.
"Yes, I am. How did you hear that she was coming?"
"It isn't a secret. My own caregiver heard some Transport Police talking about it as she was supervising lunch today, and she told me. Now, you remember, I'm studying to be a journalist for the Department of Indoctrination. I asked my composition teacher if I could make a project for credit out of writing a news article about Ambassador Ford's arrival. She said she liked the idea, and she took it further: she said if it was good enough, she would ask Fidel North to approve of it being published by that man De Sulu in Wyoming."
"You mean De Soto."
"Right, sorry; I never met him."
"If you read any copy of the Wyoming Observer," Emilio interjected, "you'll find his name printed on the banner."
Pinwheel was taken aback a little at being addressed by a law-enforcement officer who was armed with a pistol and a telescoping baton. "Ulp, I'm sorry, sir, I didn't realize you were with Daf-- I mean, with Citizen Ford."
"As long as you don't mean the wrong thing by the word 'with,' yes, I'm with Daffy. In a more permanent sense, I'm _with_ the new police-aviation detachment from the Texas Federal District."
"Lieutenant Vasquez _commands_ it, actually," Daffodil specified. "Tomorrow, he'll be flying me, my mother and some others back to Wyoming Sector, where I'm working currently."
Pinwheel brightened. "Then he's part of the story! Sir, may I please ask _you_ a few questions for my article?"
Emilio courteously went along with being interviewed, telling harmless things both about the present errand and about his duty posting in general; it would pass the time. Pinwheel recorded all that was said with the audio pickup in his tablet computer--something he was allowed to have because he was not an exile. Just like all in-Enclave cellular telephones, it was DNA-keyed to work only for authorized users. Its components would self-destruct if a tamperer tried to cannibalize them.
At last, about an hour and five minutes late, the propellor-driven government airliner arrived. Enough prestige remained to Samantha Ford that she was let off the plane _ahead_ of the incoming bottom-ranked Distribution Department personnel who were the majority of her fellow passengers. When she came near where her welcoming committee stood, Emilio could see what was probably the _only_ thing (besides blind loyalty to the Party and its ways) that had ever helped her to rise in the diplomatic service.
Samantha was a beauty, in both face and shape, on a movie-star level. She could not be a day less than thirty-six years old, but she _looked_ not a day older than maybe twenty-three. Emilio knew that this was not merely cosmetics, either; Party oligarchs enjoyed unlimited access to healthcare assets which the proletariat seldom even saw, so this woman would have undergone processes like telomere preservation, which would _actually_ slow the aging process, giving the fortunate ones _real_ benefits in health and life expectancy.
Some of that would have worked to a significant extent even for very elderly persons, Emilio reflected; but the Party didn't want to be bothered with them. Easier to celebrate the completion of their lives. Of course, the elites will change that practice once _they_ get old. And this woman is guilty, if only by acquiescence, of that whole inhuman philosophy. How did she ever manage to be the mother of a good kid like Daffodil?
Samantha now trotted forward, merrily crying out her son's name...and embracing Pinwheel Matfeyev.
When her mistake was pointed out to her, Samantha pleaded in her own defense that she had drunk an unaccustomed amount of an unusually good wine that was served on the airplane. Once Emilio caught a whiff of her breath, he believed her explanation.
Though the ex-ambassador was in poor condition to conduct a newspaper interview, Daffodil entered the call-code of his friend's tablet computer in his dataphone, so that it would be possible for Pinwheel to do a remote interview after Samantha had slept off the wine. The teenage internal diplomat and the Texas Ranger then saw to claiming Samantha's baggage, after which they practically carried her to her lodgings.
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Zella
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Copperfox
Well-known member
Now if only his mother would grow up too, eh? Just so you know, the idea of having Samantha be too drunk to see which boy was her son came to me _while_ I was writing: a good way of reminding the reader what a _moron_ she is. Daffy definitely gets his brains from Corporal Redfern, and I say this as the all-knowing author.
Copperfox
Well-known member
Limited space in the Balubal residence had Cecilia and Esperanza sharing a single-size bed for the night; but at least it was in a room by itself. Thus, when all was silent after midnight, Esperanza nudged her elder cousin awake. "Cecilia! I need to ask you something! Please don't be mad."
Once fully conscious, the older girl reassuringly hugged the younger. "I'll never be angry at you," she whispered back. "What do you need to ask me about?" Cecilia half-suspected that she knew what the question would be; and that half of her proved to be correct.
"But you being mad IS what I've gotta ask you about! Why are you mad at Wilson?"
Cecilia sighed. "Was I that obvious at your house? Essie, I'm sad, not mad. Or maybe mad because I'm sad. It's because he doesn't like me."
"What do you mean? How could he not like you?"
"He thinks I'm a stuck-up snob. He said I was only play-acting when I kissed him! But I did it because I was so happy to see him again!"
Esperanza solicitously squeezed her cousin. "This has to be a mistake! Even if Wilson _did_ think you didn't really like him, he wouldn't _say_ anything mean about it. He would think and try to understand why; that's how he is, just like Papa. Hey, do you want me to talk to Wilson about it?"
"Maybe, Essie. Let's wait and see."
= = = = = = = = = = =
The governmental pseudo-motel had a modest breakfast area, supplied by Workforce Food Service. When Daffodil and Emilio, now again accompanied by Lester Buckley, went for a bite of breakfast, they found that Cassie Magruder the airship pilot was also there. They invited her to sit and eat with them, and Daffodil told her: "My mother took a _rare_ break from her usual steady focus on her duties, and liquified herself pretty thoroughly on her plane ride last night. Since you're a woman, would you mind knocking at her door after breakfast and seeing if she'll accept some help in getting on her feet so we can go?"
Cassie smiled. "Goodness, are you in a hurry to leave Rapid City? Did you already finish signing autographs as Captain Turgenev of the Churchbusters, for _everyone_ who lives here?"
Daffodil half-smiled. "What I'm not finished with, is videocording my indoor scenes as Blossom Dooley of the Clumsy Buffoons. That's the name--well, not the buffoon part--that Citizen Conklin made up for me. Besides, three members of Alipang Havens' family flew from Sussex with us, and they need to get back today, particularly Harmony, so she can have more time with Chilena Salisbury before going back to work at Gai-- I mean at Earth's Treasures."
Soon enough, Cassie obligingly went and got Samantha Ford up and somewhat ambulatory--although, by the time Samantha actually appeared in the breakfast area, Lester had had to say goodbye and head for his helicopter inspection.
"Who are you?" the famous diplomat bluntly asked Emilio, even as Emilio was chivalrously seating her at the table.
"Lieutenant Emilio Tomas Vasquez, Texas Rangers Enclave Aviation Detachment. That turns out to make an acronym, the word 'tread,' as in 'Don't tread on me.' I'll be transporting you and your son to where he is currently working on loan to the Department of Indoctrination."
"Indoctri-- what? They got removed from the Enclave, didn't they?"
"Except for Fidel North's little Pinkshirt contingent, ma'am, yes, they no longer have any full-time presence here."
Daffodil elaborated further: "But Indoctrination has a _temporary_ presence in the form of a movie production. Didn't you read my message telling about that? It involves Trip Conklin, who directed my acting in the Churchbusters play. You did watch the video I sent you about the Churchbusters play, didn't you?"
"Of course I did. You looked so adult in that black suit, leading the heroes."
Daffodil didn't bother telling her that his costume had been mostly purple, and that his character had not been the leader in that show. But I'll be the leader NOW, he promised himself. Rising from the table, he said, "Here, Mom, I'll get you something easy to digest: a tall glass of Joy Nectar, with nutrient powder dissolved in it." Most people, after all, did not suffer any adverse effects from the beverage. When he came back with the glass of liquid nourishment, he ordered, not asked, his mother to drink it. She did, it stayed down, and she livened up enough that she finally thought to thank the woman Cassie for assisting her. Then she addressed her son again:
"Where are Bailey and Moonrose?"
"Not fighting anybody, not _even_ each other," Daffodil replied. He was feeling sassy all of a sudden, and a mild joke at the expense of his female aides was not a direct mockery of his mother. Though Daffodil knew that all of them were cut from the same cloth. "I told them to keep occupied setting up sessions to teach exiles the concept of Equalityball."
Samantha nodded. "All right, now that I'm here to..." Then she trailed off as she looked at her son's face. Daffodil did not look angry or contemptuous, but he did somehow look as if he _didn't_ expect to be _taking_ any orders from her. And indeed, he _was_ the one in charge of this not-very-organized mission. So Samantha changed her own words to: "What will you be wanting me to do, dear?"
"Probably writing a report first. I'll give you a summary of the work the girls and I have done so far, and you use your skill with words to make it sound good."
"Of course. You _know_ I've been straining at the leash to come here and actually work alongside my own bioproduct."
Daffodil knew no such thing. But he was resolved that this petty, vain, shallow creature, who had incubated him so she wouldn't have to be bothered carrying him to term, _was_ indeed going to do some actual work. He would allow her work to be alongside him as she had just said, for he was not without filial emotions for her; but the work would proceed on _his_ terms.
Once fully conscious, the older girl reassuringly hugged the younger. "I'll never be angry at you," she whispered back. "What do you need to ask me about?" Cecilia half-suspected that she knew what the question would be; and that half of her proved to be correct.
"But you being mad IS what I've gotta ask you about! Why are you mad at Wilson?"
Cecilia sighed. "Was I that obvious at your house? Essie, I'm sad, not mad. Or maybe mad because I'm sad. It's because he doesn't like me."
"What do you mean? How could he not like you?"
"He thinks I'm a stuck-up snob. He said I was only play-acting when I kissed him! But I did it because I was so happy to see him again!"
Esperanza solicitously squeezed her cousin. "This has to be a mistake! Even if Wilson _did_ think you didn't really like him, he wouldn't _say_ anything mean about it. He would think and try to understand why; that's how he is, just like Papa. Hey, do you want me to talk to Wilson about it?"
"Maybe, Essie. Let's wait and see."
= = = = = = = = = = =
The governmental pseudo-motel had a modest breakfast area, supplied by Workforce Food Service. When Daffodil and Emilio, now again accompanied by Lester Buckley, went for a bite of breakfast, they found that Cassie Magruder the airship pilot was also there. They invited her to sit and eat with them, and Daffodil told her: "My mother took a _rare_ break from her usual steady focus on her duties, and liquified herself pretty thoroughly on her plane ride last night. Since you're a woman, would you mind knocking at her door after breakfast and seeing if she'll accept some help in getting on her feet so we can go?"
Cassie smiled. "Goodness, are you in a hurry to leave Rapid City? Did you already finish signing autographs as Captain Turgenev of the Churchbusters, for _everyone_ who lives here?"
Daffodil half-smiled. "What I'm not finished with, is videocording my indoor scenes as Blossom Dooley of the Clumsy Buffoons. That's the name--well, not the buffoon part--that Citizen Conklin made up for me. Besides, three members of Alipang Havens' family flew from Sussex with us, and they need to get back today, particularly Harmony, so she can have more time with Chilena Salisbury before going back to work at Gai-- I mean at Earth's Treasures."
Soon enough, Cassie obligingly went and got Samantha Ford up and somewhat ambulatory--although, by the time Samantha actually appeared in the breakfast area, Lester had had to say goodbye and head for his helicopter inspection.
"Who are you?" the famous diplomat bluntly asked Emilio, even as Emilio was chivalrously seating her at the table.
"Lieutenant Emilio Tomas Vasquez, Texas Rangers Enclave Aviation Detachment. That turns out to make an acronym, the word 'tread,' as in 'Don't tread on me.' I'll be transporting you and your son to where he is currently working on loan to the Department of Indoctrination."
"Indoctri-- what? They got removed from the Enclave, didn't they?"
"Except for Fidel North's little Pinkshirt contingent, ma'am, yes, they no longer have any full-time presence here."
Daffodil elaborated further: "But Indoctrination has a _temporary_ presence in the form of a movie production. Didn't you read my message telling about that? It involves Trip Conklin, who directed my acting in the Churchbusters play. You did watch the video I sent you about the Churchbusters play, didn't you?"
"Of course I did. You looked so adult in that black suit, leading the heroes."
Daffodil didn't bother telling her that his costume had been mostly purple, and that his character had not been the leader in that show. But I'll be the leader NOW, he promised himself. Rising from the table, he said, "Here, Mom, I'll get you something easy to digest: a tall glass of Joy Nectar, with nutrient powder dissolved in it." Most people, after all, did not suffer any adverse effects from the beverage. When he came back with the glass of liquid nourishment, he ordered, not asked, his mother to drink it. She did, it stayed down, and she livened up enough that she finally thought to thank the woman Cassie for assisting her. Then she addressed her son again:
"Where are Bailey and Moonrose?"
"Not fighting anybody, not _even_ each other," Daffodil replied. He was feeling sassy all of a sudden, and a mild joke at the expense of his female aides was not a direct mockery of his mother. Though Daffodil knew that all of them were cut from the same cloth. "I told them to keep occupied setting up sessions to teach exiles the concept of Equalityball."
Samantha nodded. "All right, now that I'm here to..." Then she trailed off as she looked at her son's face. Daffodil did not look angry or contemptuous, but he did somehow look as if he _didn't_ expect to be _taking_ any orders from her. And indeed, he _was_ the one in charge of this not-very-organized mission. So Samantha changed her own words to: "What will you be wanting me to do, dear?"
"Probably writing a report first. I'll give you a summary of the work the girls and I have done so far, and you use your skill with words to make it sound good."
"Of course. You _know_ I've been straining at the leash to come here and actually work alongside my own bioproduct."
Daffodil knew no such thing. But he was resolved that this petty, vain, shallow creature, who had incubated him so she wouldn't have to be bothered carrying him to term, _was_ indeed going to do some actual work. He would allow her work to be alongside him as she had just said, for he was not without filial emotions for her; but the work would proceed on _his_ terms.
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Copperfox
Well-known member
In Sussex, just before time for noon dinner, Victor Tomisaburo, son of that furnace repairman who was also a deep-cover spy, was with Wilson Havens, who was a little older than he. Now that the weather was almost like spring, Trip Conklin had rounded them up to join a crowd of local children and pre-teens for an improvised movie scene. The rest of the children chosen as extras were girls, except for the sons of Raoul and Annette Rochefort. (Tommy Salisbury could also have been in the Equalityball scene if he had come up to Sussex; but he was back in Casper, splitting his time between entertaining his grandparents with poems, talking with anyone interesting he met, and rehearsing under Ms. Cruller's guidance for scenes he was _scheduled_ to be in.)
Conklin had them line up on a former football field, and put Chilena in the picture, where with improvised lines she would pretend to coach them in Equalityball. The scriptwriter might have waited for Daffodil to come back and do a _convincing_ job of Equalityball coaching; but Party policy demanded that _male_ characters in movies (unless the characters were government figures) must very seldom be shown as having the brains to teach anything to anyone. Anyway, this was a reserve scene, one that might be discarded in editing; if used, it could fit at any of several points in the plot--just a bit of fill-in.
Victor, a skilled soccer player, had to be told several times _NOT_ to kick the ball set before him farther ahead than others were doing. The first two times Chilena corrected him were themselves incorporated in the improvisational dialogue; but when he kicked too vigorously a third time, Conklin stopped the camera in some exasperation. As in the case of the little girl at the Pan-Fantasy Fair, whose apology to Dan had not been what the collective wanted, Dan hurried now to do the talking himself.
"You're Peter Tomisaburo's son, aren't you? I'm Alipang's brother-in-law, Dan Salisbury. I know Kim's looking after your little sister Adrienne right now; she's a little darling." The actor shook hands with the son of the spy...
And unknown to either of them, by some fluke of programming, the nanobots which had previously passed from Colonel Hsiao Luo-Sher to Dan Salisbury, now mistook Victor Tomisaburo's DNA for that of his father...and passed from Dan to Victor.
Oblivious to this, Dan continued: "I realize that Equalityball didn't really take off until a time when you would already have been in the Enclave. But you have to understand that _precision_ is what this game's all about, the precision to match other people's movements...."
Dan's counselling worked, Victor was retained in the scene, and it went from there with no problems. Only later would the son of the spy gain any intimation of what adjustments the nanobots were setting out to perform inside his body. Peter Tomisaburo was introduced to Dan before the movie company's lunch break -- and had no idea that he had missed out on a special delivery from China.
Noon dinner at Alipang and Kim's house was crowded, even with Harmony, Cecilia and Esperanza absent, but was cheerful and convivial. Half an hour later, Emilio came flying back in the helicopter-ambulance, bringing along all who had flown east with him except for Lester, and bringing Samantha in Lester's place. As before, there was an exodus from the house to meet the persons arriving by air.
Wilson and Cecilia looked into each other's eyes without anything resembling anger, but with a two-way hesitancy and uncertainty. Esperanza began to open her mouth, but fell silent at a gesture from Cecilia.
Samantha had recovered swiftly enough to give Pinwheel Matfeyev his remote interview during the flight from Rapid City. Now she was on her best State Department manners as her son introduced her to his local friends. She neither did nor said anything offensive... unless it were offensive that she did not think to mention, let alone show gratitude for, Alipang having saved her son's life almost at the cost of his own. But seeing that Alipang didn't care about this, Kim and the rest chose also to let the slight go unremarked.
Cecilia the Younger knew about her Filipino uncle's courageous deed. When she realized that Uncle Al was refusing to be angry about a slight, she remembered Essie's words about Wilson being "just like Papa." It became one degree more plausible to her that Wilson had _never_ intended any disdain toward her.
Daffodil certainly noticed Samantha's glaring omission. He wanted to say something; but although he couldn't feel much respect for his mother, he didn't want to embarrass her by pointing out her failure in front of the others. If he had anticipated her forgetting something _that_ important, he would have reminded her of Alipang's bravery while they were flying to Sussex.
At least he had briefed Samantha on some other things enroute, such as the fact that almost all exiles were meat-eaters. In light of this, he had told her that she could eat as his guest in the building Trip Conklin had commandeered to use as a cafeteria for the moviemaking personnel.
From here, Emilio would shortly be flying Harmony, Cecilia and Irene with him back to Casper. Suddenly too anxious for a reconciliation to let matters wait until another visit, Cecilia made sure she had eye contact with Wilson, darted a glance at Alipang's dental-office shed, and mouthed the word "Please." He responded by moving in the indicated direction, making no attempt to pretend that it was only by accident that Cecilia was heading for the same place as he was. Irene started to follow her big sister, but Esperanza persuaded her to leave the older pair alone. Unpestered by anyone, Wilson and Cecilia converged behind the stand-alone structure.
Daffodil covered thanks and goodbyes for himself and his mother, as applicable... and found his discomfort at once eased and intensified by having Harmony kiss him _again_ while his mother looked on with slightly widened eyes. Then he led his mother away to have a late lunch--explaining to her that they would be _walking_ there, that Sussex had only one loop of light rail and it was no better than walking to reach their current destination. Since now Samantha was bursting with curiosity about Harmony, Daffodil explained truthfully enough that Harmony was grateful for all his efforts to restore the ties of the extended Havens family. The idea of gratitude was then the bridge to let him start privately scolding his mother for not thanking Alipang.
Conklin had them line up on a former football field, and put Chilena in the picture, where with improvised lines she would pretend to coach them in Equalityball. The scriptwriter might have waited for Daffodil to come back and do a _convincing_ job of Equalityball coaching; but Party policy demanded that _male_ characters in movies (unless the characters were government figures) must very seldom be shown as having the brains to teach anything to anyone. Anyway, this was a reserve scene, one that might be discarded in editing; if used, it could fit at any of several points in the plot--just a bit of fill-in.
Victor, a skilled soccer player, had to be told several times _NOT_ to kick the ball set before him farther ahead than others were doing. The first two times Chilena corrected him were themselves incorporated in the improvisational dialogue; but when he kicked too vigorously a third time, Conklin stopped the camera in some exasperation. As in the case of the little girl at the Pan-Fantasy Fair, whose apology to Dan had not been what the collective wanted, Dan hurried now to do the talking himself.
"You're Peter Tomisaburo's son, aren't you? I'm Alipang's brother-in-law, Dan Salisbury. I know Kim's looking after your little sister Adrienne right now; she's a little darling." The actor shook hands with the son of the spy...
And unknown to either of them, by some fluke of programming, the nanobots which had previously passed from Colonel Hsiao Luo-Sher to Dan Salisbury, now mistook Victor Tomisaburo's DNA for that of his father...and passed from Dan to Victor.
Oblivious to this, Dan continued: "I realize that Equalityball didn't really take off until a time when you would already have been in the Enclave. But you have to understand that _precision_ is what this game's all about, the precision to match other people's movements...."
Dan's counselling worked, Victor was retained in the scene, and it went from there with no problems. Only later would the son of the spy gain any intimation of what adjustments the nanobots were setting out to perform inside his body. Peter Tomisaburo was introduced to Dan before the movie company's lunch break -- and had no idea that he had missed out on a special delivery from China.
Noon dinner at Alipang and Kim's house was crowded, even with Harmony, Cecilia and Esperanza absent, but was cheerful and convivial. Half an hour later, Emilio came flying back in the helicopter-ambulance, bringing along all who had flown east with him except for Lester, and bringing Samantha in Lester's place. As before, there was an exodus from the house to meet the persons arriving by air.
Wilson and Cecilia looked into each other's eyes without anything resembling anger, but with a two-way hesitancy and uncertainty. Esperanza began to open her mouth, but fell silent at a gesture from Cecilia.
Samantha had recovered swiftly enough to give Pinwheel Matfeyev his remote interview during the flight from Rapid City. Now she was on her best State Department manners as her son introduced her to his local friends. She neither did nor said anything offensive... unless it were offensive that she did not think to mention, let alone show gratitude for, Alipang having saved her son's life almost at the cost of his own. But seeing that Alipang didn't care about this, Kim and the rest chose also to let the slight go unremarked.
Cecilia the Younger knew about her Filipino uncle's courageous deed. When she realized that Uncle Al was refusing to be angry about a slight, she remembered Essie's words about Wilson being "just like Papa." It became one degree more plausible to her that Wilson had _never_ intended any disdain toward her.
Daffodil certainly noticed Samantha's glaring omission. He wanted to say something; but although he couldn't feel much respect for his mother, he didn't want to embarrass her by pointing out her failure in front of the others. If he had anticipated her forgetting something _that_ important, he would have reminded her of Alipang's bravery while they were flying to Sussex.
At least he had briefed Samantha on some other things enroute, such as the fact that almost all exiles were meat-eaters. In light of this, he had told her that she could eat as his guest in the building Trip Conklin had commandeered to use as a cafeteria for the moviemaking personnel.
From here, Emilio would shortly be flying Harmony, Cecilia and Irene with him back to Casper. Suddenly too anxious for a reconciliation to let matters wait until another visit, Cecilia made sure she had eye contact with Wilson, darted a glance at Alipang's dental-office shed, and mouthed the word "Please." He responded by moving in the indicated direction, making no attempt to pretend that it was only by accident that Cecilia was heading for the same place as he was. Irene started to follow her big sister, but Esperanza persuaded her to leave the older pair alone. Unpestered by anyone, Wilson and Cecilia converged behind the stand-alone structure.
Daffodil covered thanks and goodbyes for himself and his mother, as applicable... and found his discomfort at once eased and intensified by having Harmony kiss him _again_ while his mother looked on with slightly widened eyes. Then he led his mother away to have a late lunch--explaining to her that they would be _walking_ there, that Sussex had only one loop of light rail and it was no better than walking to reach their current destination. Since now Samantha was bursting with curiosity about Harmony, Daffodil explained truthfully enough that Harmony was grateful for all his efforts to restore the ties of the extended Havens family. The idea of gratitude was then the bridge to let him start privately scolding his mother for not thanking Alipang.
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Copperfox
Well-known member
Out of sight of the others, Wilson and Cecilia faced each other: not touching each other, yet standing scarcely a hand's length apart.
"Wilson, I know I should have written letters to you from Delaware, but Mom and Dad were afraid that my interest in exiles might create problems for me at school."
"That's all right, Sizzle--"
More loudly than she intended, Cecilia exclaimed, "You remember the nickname you gave me!" Her feet inched closer to his feet, and now they stood only a finger's length apart. Still not yet touching.
"Of course I remember it! Listen, it's true I would have enjoyed a direct reply from you to the letters I wrote. But it's okay, really, because Aunt Chil and Uncle Dan gave enough news when _they_ wrote."
"So tell me -- what I should have asked you about yesterday, but I blew the chance by being silly. Tell me what I _seem_ like to you. Tell me what opinion you got of me from faraway news, these past four years, and if meeting me has changed it."
Wilson's hands very lightly clasped Cecilia's, in a relaxed, hanging-loose manner. "I got the only possible opinion: that you were being brave and intelligent in hard circumstances. I was always proud of you for that; I still am proud of you for it."
Cecilia beamed. "Really?" Without another word, her hands leaped out of Wilson's hands, so that her arms could fly around his neck; an instant later, she was giving him a kiss twice as firm and three times as long as the controversial one from yesterday. Her cousin was so startled that he didn't get around to embracing her in return until she was leaning back from that kiss. Blushing, Cecilia added, "I guess we just skipped ahead over three or four stages."
"Well, your time is short. But let me fill in one of the skipped parts. When I made my _dumb_ comment about you making an entrance, did you think that I was saying you were being fake?"
"Oh my God, yes, that is what I thought! Maybe partly because I've always heard how Aunt Kimberly hates people being fake. But you have a smart and loyal sister; Essie told me last night that you _wouldn't_ be mean on purpose! And she was right."
Wilson hugged her tightly, actually the first strong hug he had yet given her since she came to the Enclave. "My brain-mouth interface needs repairs. But what I _meant_ by that bit about an entrance was that I remembered how much fun we used to have as kids, and that it was awesome to see you again."
"And now, scrag the fluking luck, I have to _leave_ you again already."
"But we'll see each other soon -- Sizzle."
This much was all the cousins had time for, but it made a world of difference. When they rejoined the others, they were both at ease.
Once Emilio's reorganized flight party had left, Kim said to Chilena, "Didn't you tell us at some point that this diplomat woman presided at the recognition of the new Republic of Alchatka?"
"Yes, I did, and she did. That was good for Alaskans, because then China permitted them to keep their petroleum reserves, instead of confiscating the oil as it did in the contiguous United States."
"Well, maybe Daffodil can find his mother a job in Alchatka. Daffy's a nice boy, but I sure have no use for his mother. Maybe if some Inuit saves her life _there,_ she'll remember to thank him."
At the lunch with the movie people, Samantha enjoyed the ego-boost of three or four persons in addition to Trip Conklin recognizing her from news broadcasts even before Daffodil introduced her as his mother. It gave Samantha the chance to say some vacuous things about herself and the moviemakers being comrades in the urgent struggle to prevent the Nazi hordes of capitalistic sexist white-supremacist Christian fascist bigots from overrunning the whole continent. Her nonsense was so articulate-sounding that Daffodil, _knowing_ it to be all wrong, still could not find the will to object out loud.
But a young woman on the film crew, her nametag identifying her as "Frigate," spoke up in his stead:
"Excuse me, Citizen Ambassador, but we've been meeting exiles in Wyoming Sector who really _aren't_ any kind of Nazis. I know you already know who Alipang Havens is; he filled a bad cavity for me without pay. He seems to be good at everything he does." Frigate purposely said all this loudly enough to carry to the far-off seat where the union goon Rudy was eating.
Samantha's mind maneuvered to make this new input fit her paradigm. "Yes, of course the exiles are behaving well _since_ my bioproduct, and now Citizens Cruller and Conklin, have been around to exert a civilizing influence."
Frigate fell silent, not wanting to push her luck.
"Thank you for that, Ms. Ford," Conklin responded. "And that's a natural segue to something I'd like to ask you. Since Daffodil is such a promising actor, is there any chance I could get _you_ to let me fit you into Sectors of the Heart also? I'm sure the actors' union will approve temporary credentials for you as they did for Daffodil."
Samantha beamed. "I'd love it!" She might have added that she would stipulate having no love scenes for herself with men, if not for the fact that even her narcissistic brain did not expect a role given to her so late to be a _large_ enough one for that issue to come up.
"Good! We'll have a conference call with Isadora, to find out where she would prefer to include you in the script. And if this works out as well as I believe it will, who knows? We might be able to extend your credentials and give you a _major_ part in an upcoming production--one that would be artistically daring." By his last phrase, Conklin meant he wanted Samantha to do the kind of movie that primitive tribal fanatics would once have described as "filthy." He already knew that she had all the looks for such a job, and no inhibitions that could not be worked around.
Following this conversation, and understanding _perfectly_ well what Conklin wished his mother to do, Daffodil almost protested. But then he remembered that his mother was already widely known to be a mocker of traditional morality in _real_ life, to such a degree that her being in a movie could hardly make any difference--as long as HE was not forced to watch it.
Aloud he said, "Okay, Caregiver, I _think_ we can spare you from the project work for _some_ of the time."
Samantha took a moment to absorb this, then smiled with more warmth for him than she showed most of the time when with him. "Thanks, Daffy. It still has us all on the same team of oneness and diversity."
The effect of this meaningless throw-away utterance on Daffy was that he decided he would never address her as "Caregiver" again as long as he lived. Mother, yes--but not any title which explicitly credited her with caring. It was not that Daffodil would refuse to have anything more to do with her, for he dared to hope that God might one day make a change in her; but within his own mind, his emancipation from her was now complete.
"Wilson, I know I should have written letters to you from Delaware, but Mom and Dad were afraid that my interest in exiles might create problems for me at school."
"That's all right, Sizzle--"
More loudly than she intended, Cecilia exclaimed, "You remember the nickname you gave me!" Her feet inched closer to his feet, and now they stood only a finger's length apart. Still not yet touching.
"Of course I remember it! Listen, it's true I would have enjoyed a direct reply from you to the letters I wrote. But it's okay, really, because Aunt Chil and Uncle Dan gave enough news when _they_ wrote."
"So tell me -- what I should have asked you about yesterday, but I blew the chance by being silly. Tell me what I _seem_ like to you. Tell me what opinion you got of me from faraway news, these past four years, and if meeting me has changed it."
Wilson's hands very lightly clasped Cecilia's, in a relaxed, hanging-loose manner. "I got the only possible opinion: that you were being brave and intelligent in hard circumstances. I was always proud of you for that; I still am proud of you for it."
Cecilia beamed. "Really?" Without another word, her hands leaped out of Wilson's hands, so that her arms could fly around his neck; an instant later, she was giving him a kiss twice as firm and three times as long as the controversial one from yesterday. Her cousin was so startled that he didn't get around to embracing her in return until she was leaning back from that kiss. Blushing, Cecilia added, "I guess we just skipped ahead over three or four stages."
"Well, your time is short. But let me fill in one of the skipped parts. When I made my _dumb_ comment about you making an entrance, did you think that I was saying you were being fake?"
"Oh my God, yes, that is what I thought! Maybe partly because I've always heard how Aunt Kimberly hates people being fake. But you have a smart and loyal sister; Essie told me last night that you _wouldn't_ be mean on purpose! And she was right."
Wilson hugged her tightly, actually the first strong hug he had yet given her since she came to the Enclave. "My brain-mouth interface needs repairs. But what I _meant_ by that bit about an entrance was that I remembered how much fun we used to have as kids, and that it was awesome to see you again."
"And now, scrag the fluking luck, I have to _leave_ you again already."
"But we'll see each other soon -- Sizzle."
This much was all the cousins had time for, but it made a world of difference. When they rejoined the others, they were both at ease.
Once Emilio's reorganized flight party had left, Kim said to Chilena, "Didn't you tell us at some point that this diplomat woman presided at the recognition of the new Republic of Alchatka?"
"Yes, I did, and she did. That was good for Alaskans, because then China permitted them to keep their petroleum reserves, instead of confiscating the oil as it did in the contiguous United States."
"Well, maybe Daffodil can find his mother a job in Alchatka. Daffy's a nice boy, but I sure have no use for his mother. Maybe if some Inuit saves her life _there,_ she'll remember to thank him."
At the lunch with the movie people, Samantha enjoyed the ego-boost of three or four persons in addition to Trip Conklin recognizing her from news broadcasts even before Daffodil introduced her as his mother. It gave Samantha the chance to say some vacuous things about herself and the moviemakers being comrades in the urgent struggle to prevent the Nazi hordes of capitalistic sexist white-supremacist Christian fascist bigots from overrunning the whole continent. Her nonsense was so articulate-sounding that Daffodil, _knowing_ it to be all wrong, still could not find the will to object out loud.
But a young woman on the film crew, her nametag identifying her as "Frigate," spoke up in his stead:
"Excuse me, Citizen Ambassador, but we've been meeting exiles in Wyoming Sector who really _aren't_ any kind of Nazis. I know you already know who Alipang Havens is; he filled a bad cavity for me without pay. He seems to be good at everything he does." Frigate purposely said all this loudly enough to carry to the far-off seat where the union goon Rudy was eating.
Samantha's mind maneuvered to make this new input fit her paradigm. "Yes, of course the exiles are behaving well _since_ my bioproduct, and now Citizens Cruller and Conklin, have been around to exert a civilizing influence."
Frigate fell silent, not wanting to push her luck.
"Thank you for that, Ms. Ford," Conklin responded. "And that's a natural segue to something I'd like to ask you. Since Daffodil is such a promising actor, is there any chance I could get _you_ to let me fit you into Sectors of the Heart also? I'm sure the actors' union will approve temporary credentials for you as they did for Daffodil."
Samantha beamed. "I'd love it!" She might have added that she would stipulate having no love scenes for herself with men, if not for the fact that even her narcissistic brain did not expect a role given to her so late to be a _large_ enough one for that issue to come up.
"Good! We'll have a conference call with Isadora, to find out where she would prefer to include you in the script. And if this works out as well as I believe it will, who knows? We might be able to extend your credentials and give you a _major_ part in an upcoming production--one that would be artistically daring." By his last phrase, Conklin meant he wanted Samantha to do the kind of movie that primitive tribal fanatics would once have described as "filthy." He already knew that she had all the looks for such a job, and no inhibitions that could not be worked around.
Following this conversation, and understanding _perfectly_ well what Conklin wished his mother to do, Daffodil almost protested. But then he remembered that his mother was already widely known to be a mocker of traditional morality in _real_ life, to such a degree that her being in a movie could hardly make any difference--as long as HE was not forced to watch it.
Aloud he said, "Okay, Caregiver, I _think_ we can spare you from the project work for _some_ of the time."
Samantha took a moment to absorb this, then smiled with more warmth for him than she showed most of the time when with him. "Thanks, Daffy. It still has us all on the same team of oneness and diversity."
The effect of this meaningless throw-away utterance on Daffy was that he decided he would never address her as "Caregiver" again as long as he lived. Mother, yes--but not any title which explicitly credited her with caring. It was not that Daffodil would refuse to have anything more to do with her, for he dared to hope that God might one day make a change in her; but within his own mind, his emancipation from her was now complete.
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Copperfox
Well-known member
Chapter 91: Baby Brother At Work
On the morning of the same day when Emilio Vasquez flew Daffodil Ford to Rapid City to meet his arriving mother, Terrance Havens and Frodo Von Spock woke up in their room at the Earth's Treasures workforce dormitory...to discover that Frodo had somehow lost his protective gloves. At breakfast in the employees' cafeteria, they asked around in case anyone had seen the gloves, or had a spare set; but the answer was no to both questions.
Accordingly, Terrance, whose own hands were more thoroughly work-toughened than those of the former cult leader, lent his gloves to his roommate. It was not impossible to work without them, since the gloves in question were just for handling rough-edged objects. For jobs where hands could be harmed by heat or corrosive substances, special gloves were temporarily issued and never taken out of the plant.
The former fake archangel at first seemed to take Terrance's act of generosity in stride, almost as his due; but later, in the middle of working, he suddenly got around to speaking about it to his benefactor.
It was while they, and several other employees, were carrying aluminum ingots to a storage space. Aluminum cans, and other objects made of that metal, had been shredded and melted right here in the recycling center; the melted aluminum had been formed into slab-like ingots weighing ten kilograms each. Once a batch of the ingots had cooled on ceramic shelves close to the melting furnace, men would carry them by hand to the storage area set aside for them, sparing any use of electricity or combustible fuel for the process of moving them. A considerable quantity of aluminum was being saved up in this manner, because the Department of Distribution was still pondering whether to ship the ingots out of the Enclave as they were, or expand the operation in Nebraska to include _making_ new things out of the recycled metal.
Winnie Drucker had originally insisted that women, including Harmony and her own Mennonite roommate, do all the ingot-carrying, as an assertion of feminist pride. But the brutal facts of biology, as applying to upper-body strength in any human being not artificially enhanced, had refused to conform to political correctness; so the general manager had finally resigned herself to having mostly men carry the ingots.
Not that _every_ man had more upper-body strength than _every_ woman. The best that Frodo Von Spock could ever do was to carry two of the ten-kilogram aluminum ingots at a time, whereas Harmony could manage three at a time, if she were allowed to rest between trips. Terrance could carry seven ingots at once with no real difficulty, and could make many such trips before needing to take a break. (There were some wheeled handcarts in the facility for such purposes, but they were being used for heavier materials like iron.)
On this particular day, however, Terrance was moving more slowly at all stages of the procedure, because some of the ingots had jagged edges. He had so far succeeded in avoiding any serious cuts on his hands, but the work was harder for him than usual. As a young man given to using humor as a support in adversity, he remarked to the nearby Frodo, "This is going on forever! Mom taught me long ago that aluminum was the most commonly-occurring metallic element on Earth. I think she made an understatement; I'm becoming convinced that aluminum is THE most common element of ANY kind in the WHOLE universe! That, or else the Ku Klux Quakers really exist after all, and they've been proving their evilness by sneaking into the storage area, taking ingots we already stacked on the pallets, and smuggling them back to the cooling shelves, so that we have to carry the SAME ingots over again!"
Frodo laughed politely at this, then said more soberly, "My hands would be raw meat by now if you hadn't let me borrow your gloves. And you didn't HAVE TO do it. You didn't have to let me room with you, either. Why are you so kind to me, when I insulted your mother the first time we ever met?"
"It's no mystery, Frodo. I'm a follower of Jesus Christ. Although my understanding of Scripture doesn't require me ALWAYS to let wrongdoers have everything their own way, I believe strongly in overcoming evil with good. And I think it's working with you; as far as I can tell, you are now a well-behaved gentleman. All that remains is for you to receive Jesus as YOUR Savior, and then you can also start overcoming evil with good!"
When they came to the rows of pallets and set down their latest loads, Frodo said to Terrance, "Let's talk more about that after supper."
On the morning of the same day when Emilio Vasquez flew Daffodil Ford to Rapid City to meet his arriving mother, Terrance Havens and Frodo Von Spock woke up in their room at the Earth's Treasures workforce dormitory...to discover that Frodo had somehow lost his protective gloves. At breakfast in the employees' cafeteria, they asked around in case anyone had seen the gloves, or had a spare set; but the answer was no to both questions.
Accordingly, Terrance, whose own hands were more thoroughly work-toughened than those of the former cult leader, lent his gloves to his roommate. It was not impossible to work without them, since the gloves in question were just for handling rough-edged objects. For jobs where hands could be harmed by heat or corrosive substances, special gloves were temporarily issued and never taken out of the plant.
The former fake archangel at first seemed to take Terrance's act of generosity in stride, almost as his due; but later, in the middle of working, he suddenly got around to speaking about it to his benefactor.
It was while they, and several other employees, were carrying aluminum ingots to a storage space. Aluminum cans, and other objects made of that metal, had been shredded and melted right here in the recycling center; the melted aluminum had been formed into slab-like ingots weighing ten kilograms each. Once a batch of the ingots had cooled on ceramic shelves close to the melting furnace, men would carry them by hand to the storage area set aside for them, sparing any use of electricity or combustible fuel for the process of moving them. A considerable quantity of aluminum was being saved up in this manner, because the Department of Distribution was still pondering whether to ship the ingots out of the Enclave as they were, or expand the operation in Nebraska to include _making_ new things out of the recycled metal.
Winnie Drucker had originally insisted that women, including Harmony and her own Mennonite roommate, do all the ingot-carrying, as an assertion of feminist pride. But the brutal facts of biology, as applying to upper-body strength in any human being not artificially enhanced, had refused to conform to political correctness; so the general manager had finally resigned herself to having mostly men carry the ingots.
Not that _every_ man had more upper-body strength than _every_ woman. The best that Frodo Von Spock could ever do was to carry two of the ten-kilogram aluminum ingots at a time, whereas Harmony could manage three at a time, if she were allowed to rest between trips. Terrance could carry seven ingots at once with no real difficulty, and could make many such trips before needing to take a break. (There were some wheeled handcarts in the facility for such purposes, but they were being used for heavier materials like iron.)
On this particular day, however, Terrance was moving more slowly at all stages of the procedure, because some of the ingots had jagged edges. He had so far succeeded in avoiding any serious cuts on his hands, but the work was harder for him than usual. As a young man given to using humor as a support in adversity, he remarked to the nearby Frodo, "This is going on forever! Mom taught me long ago that aluminum was the most commonly-occurring metallic element on Earth. I think she made an understatement; I'm becoming convinced that aluminum is THE most common element of ANY kind in the WHOLE universe! That, or else the Ku Klux Quakers really exist after all, and they've been proving their evilness by sneaking into the storage area, taking ingots we already stacked on the pallets, and smuggling them back to the cooling shelves, so that we have to carry the SAME ingots over again!"
Frodo laughed politely at this, then said more soberly, "My hands would be raw meat by now if you hadn't let me borrow your gloves. And you didn't HAVE TO do it. You didn't have to let me room with you, either. Why are you so kind to me, when I insulted your mother the first time we ever met?"
"It's no mystery, Frodo. I'm a follower of Jesus Christ. Although my understanding of Scripture doesn't require me ALWAYS to let wrongdoers have everything their own way, I believe strongly in overcoming evil with good. And I think it's working with you; as far as I can tell, you are now a well-behaved gentleman. All that remains is for you to receive Jesus as YOUR Savior, and then you can also start overcoming evil with good!"
When they came to the rows of pallets and set down their latest loads, Frodo said to Terrance, "Let's talk more about that after supper."
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Copperfox
Well-known member
The next morning, Harmony's roommate, the mid-fortyish widow Ingrid Plesser, was sitting down to a decent eggs-and-oatmeal breakfast courtesy of Workforce Food Service, she heard herself being hailed by Harmony's younger brother. Looking toward the voice, she saw Terrance coming toward her with Frodo Von Spock in tow. Frodo was carrying both of their trays, as Terrance's right hand was bandaged; Terrance had not _quite_ made it through yesterday without a bleeding cut.
Ingrid already knew, as many workers did, about Terrance's sacrificial generosity to Frodo the day before--a generosity which would not have been necessary if Winnie Drucker had not been so stingy about commonplace items like leather gloves. Ingrid also knew that at least Ms. Drucker had not vetoed the decision of the floor supervisor--who, besides Ms. Drucker and an accountant-slash-secretary, was the only NON-exile woman in the place--to assign Terrance to an easy control-switch position for these last two days before he would go on leave.
So, as he and Frodo sat down with Ingrid, it was easy for Terrance not to bother with any more talk about his minor injury. Instead, he could go straight to happier news--news he could speak about more openly here in the Enclave than if he had been outside the fence.
"Guess what Frodo did last night? Drumroll, cymbal clash, HE RECEIVED JESUS AS HIS LORD!"
Only now, beholding the radiant smile which broke forth on Mrs. Plesser's face at the announcement, did Terrance become fully aware that he had never seen her smiling very strongly in all their short acquaintance up to now. "Praise His name!" she exclaimed. "And congratulations to YOU, Frodo! I hope you realize that God's angels up in Heaven are applauding you right now."
"Then I hope some of their applause is for Terrance," remarked the redeemed weirdo. "It took a lot of patience on his part. But last night was the payoff. I think one thing that helped me turn the corner was the way Terrance exposed himself to injury to spare ME from it, even though I had offended him in the past. I guess the parallel is obvious enough to a Biblical."
Terrance patted Frodo's right shoulder with his left hand. "Now you're a Biblical too."
Frodo smiled broadly. "So I am!"
Terrance addressed Ingrid again: "Tomorrow evening, I'll be on my way to Casper--where I think Dad can scrounge up a new pair of leather gloves for me. Would you mind making yourself available while I'm away, to answer Frodo's questions about following Jesus?"
"I'll regard it as a privilege, young man. And Frodo, here's a free sample of my spiritual advice. You are impressed with Terrance's patience toward you, and it's right for you to appreciate him for it. But in fact, patience and the closely-related virtue of forgiveness are standard equipment for the Christian. However much of patience and forgiveness you THINK is enough to practice in your walk with Jesus, double it. Jesus once told one of His disciples to forgive an offender 490 times; and that number was really a metaphor for tireless, open-ended forgiveness."
Like a little child--which of course he now was, in a certain sense--Frodo suddenly asked her, "Have you forgiven the men who murdered your niece?"
Ingrid took no offense at the question. "I confess that God made that easy for me. I don't have to see Overseers Vargas and Huddleston strutting past me day after day, smirking over what they got away with. Their own violence returned upon their heads; they reaped what they sowed. If their having to pay for their crimes contributes anything to Eva's enjoyment of being in Heaven, well and good. But I do like to think that, if there had been occasion for it, I could have told those murderers to their faces that I wished for their salvation rather than their condemnation."
Those two workdays went well, and several of the recycling workers besides Terrance and Ingrid joined in encouraging their new fellow believer. As his leave approached, an extra blessing appeared for Terrance: he would be able to save a train token going into the Wyoming Sector. Kostas Demophilos had been meaning to go confer with Lyra Bender's Forest Ranger contingent, and he could time this trip so as to bring Terrance along in his overlander.
Ingrid already knew, as many workers did, about Terrance's sacrificial generosity to Frodo the day before--a generosity which would not have been necessary if Winnie Drucker had not been so stingy about commonplace items like leather gloves. Ingrid also knew that at least Ms. Drucker had not vetoed the decision of the floor supervisor--who, besides Ms. Drucker and an accountant-slash-secretary, was the only NON-exile woman in the place--to assign Terrance to an easy control-switch position for these last two days before he would go on leave.
So, as he and Frodo sat down with Ingrid, it was easy for Terrance not to bother with any more talk about his minor injury. Instead, he could go straight to happier news--news he could speak about more openly here in the Enclave than if he had been outside the fence.
"Guess what Frodo did last night? Drumroll, cymbal clash, HE RECEIVED JESUS AS HIS LORD!"
Only now, beholding the radiant smile which broke forth on Mrs. Plesser's face at the announcement, did Terrance become fully aware that he had never seen her smiling very strongly in all their short acquaintance up to now. "Praise His name!" she exclaimed. "And congratulations to YOU, Frodo! I hope you realize that God's angels up in Heaven are applauding you right now."
"Then I hope some of their applause is for Terrance," remarked the redeemed weirdo. "It took a lot of patience on his part. But last night was the payoff. I think one thing that helped me turn the corner was the way Terrance exposed himself to injury to spare ME from it, even though I had offended him in the past. I guess the parallel is obvious enough to a Biblical."
Terrance patted Frodo's right shoulder with his left hand. "Now you're a Biblical too."
Frodo smiled broadly. "So I am!"
Terrance addressed Ingrid again: "Tomorrow evening, I'll be on my way to Casper--where I think Dad can scrounge up a new pair of leather gloves for me. Would you mind making yourself available while I'm away, to answer Frodo's questions about following Jesus?"
"I'll regard it as a privilege, young man. And Frodo, here's a free sample of my spiritual advice. You are impressed with Terrance's patience toward you, and it's right for you to appreciate him for it. But in fact, patience and the closely-related virtue of forgiveness are standard equipment for the Christian. However much of patience and forgiveness you THINK is enough to practice in your walk with Jesus, double it. Jesus once told one of His disciples to forgive an offender 490 times; and that number was really a metaphor for tireless, open-ended forgiveness."
Like a little child--which of course he now was, in a certain sense--Frodo suddenly asked her, "Have you forgiven the men who murdered your niece?"
Ingrid took no offense at the question. "I confess that God made that easy for me. I don't have to see Overseers Vargas and Huddleston strutting past me day after day, smirking over what they got away with. Their own violence returned upon their heads; they reaped what they sowed. If their having to pay for their crimes contributes anything to Eva's enjoyment of being in Heaven, well and good. But I do like to think that, if there had been occasion for it, I could have told those murderers to their faces that I wished for their salvation rather than their condemnation."
Those two workdays went well, and several of the recycling workers besides Terrance and Ingrid joined in encouraging their new fellow believer. As his leave approached, an extra blessing appeared for Terrance: he would be able to save a train token going into the Wyoming Sector. Kostas Demophilos had been meaning to go confer with Lyra Bender's Forest Ranger contingent, and he could time this trip so as to bring Terrance along in his overlander.
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Copperfox
Well-known member
Besides their already-existing history of getting on splendidly as cousins in childhood, the chief reason why Cousin Wilson had often been on Cecilia Ruth's mind during their four years of separation was -- all other males.
In consequence of the success of the Fairness Revolution, everyone who still had the will to resist enslavement had either escaped from America, like Uncle Alipang's friend for whom Cousin Brendan was named; been forced to bide their time, like Uncle Emilio; been sent to prisons where many were murdered, like the gallant Navy veteran for whom Cousin Wilson himself was named; or been stranded in the Western Enclave, like Cousin Wilson himself. All males not included in any of those categories were either thugs for the regime, obedient slaves of the regime, or -- like Cecilia's father Daniel Salisbury -- men with good hearts, but hogtied, handcuffed and hemmed in.
Now that Cecilia Ruth was old enough at least to think about eventual romance and marriage, she was painfully aware that outside the fence, Christian boys from her own age through age sixteen had all been more or less battered into submission. It wasn't their fault; everything in the D.S.A. was rigged against them. But fault or no fault, Cecilia would not have placed a blind man in the front saddle of a tandem bicycle when she was in the rear saddle; and she had no interest in marrying any boy who had been spiritually crushed by the iron wheels of dictatorship. Cousin Wilson, however, preserved in himself the manliness of his father, Uncle Alipang; and there was every reason to believe that male exile friends of Wilson's also had the qualities to become a girl's hero and love.
If there was any reason for her to think any farther than Wilson himself.
Overflowing with thoughts on these lines, Cecilia decided that she owed it to her father to confide her thoughts to him, not always and only to her mother. Daniel Salisbury had lived most of his life with many circumstances stacked against him, going as far back as the boyhood mononucleosis which had permanently weakened his health; yet he had achieved much good, and he deserved respect for that. So-- "Dad?"
"What can I do for you, precious?"
"Tell me what you think. How old do I need to be before I might be smart enough to know what
boy is meant to be my husband?"
That question was good for an hour of father-daughter talk.
= = = = = = = = = = = = =
Terrance and Harmony passed each other coming and going, the latter taking a train back to Nebraska and "Gaia's Guts." Daffodil Ford found an excuse not to be present at Harmony's departure...because he would almost rather die than to make the object of his adoration think he was so stupid as to dare to hope she could ever be his. Nor did he take any comfort from hearing that the fickle girl Skydazzle was still around and currently available. Harmony Havens made ordinary females seem SO ordinary.
Daffodil knew by now that Alipang Havens had once been "the younger boy" feeling exactly the same way about Kim Tisdale, who did in fact end up marrying him; but a five-year age difference appeared to Daffodil as so much greater than a two-year age difference, that he took no comfort from knowing what Alipang and Kim's outcome had been.
Terrance was dropped off in Casper by Forest Ranger Demophilos on a Tuesday afternoon. He had had to work the previous Sunday, and his leave would be over before he could attend next Sunday's worship at either of the churches familiar to him. But the happy news of the ex-cultist's conversion would spread fast enough among members of The Church of the Faithful and Sussex Gospel Church. His first order of business was to see Chilena and her husband and children, who had just gotten back to Casper themselves. Although he had not of course been as intensely close with Chilena in the old days in Virginia as Alipang had been, there were NO two Havens siblings who didn't share enough mutual love to make a reunion joyous. And Terrance had, for Chilena, the novelty effect of being a great deal bigger and stronger than he had been the last time she had seen him. So a joyful time was had by all, even though Irene had no prior memory of Uncle Terrance meeting her when she was a toddler, and Tommy didn't remember Terrance much more distinctly than Irene did.
Cecilia the Younger DID remember the enjoyment of Uncle Terrance tossing her in the air and catching her when she had been small. Although she had grown larger since then, so had he, and he proved he could still toss her upward at least a little bit.
Isadora Cruller was introduced to the youngest of her star Chilena's siblings before he had been back in town more than two hours. Appraising his sturdy physique, the film director asked him, "Can you do a convincing job of falling down wounded or stunned?"
"Ummm....I suppose so. What, you mean for Chilena's movie?"
"Exactly! We need plenty of shots of rank-and-file bad guys getting trank-darted, sonic-stunned or otherwise incapacitated by the heroic Commerce Inspectors in the climactic battle. So we can definitely use another extra who can look dangerous, and who hasn't been in the civilian-crowd scenes. Can you report to the shooting location tomorrow morning after breakfast? We're using a vacant warehouse for part of the action sequence; by filming you in there, we can use your bit regardless of what the weather is when we do exteriors. We'll fit you with a DeathstructionCorp security uniform; videocord some views of you wielding a prop gun, flashes and noise to be added later; have you fall down as a non-lethal weapon puts you out of action; and also have one shot of you being marched along in custody by Pulverizer after the battle."
"Pulverizer??"
"Oh, that's right, you wouldn't have heard of her, I'm forgetting you don't have holovision here. I mean Pulverizer Clarendon, an up-and-coming actress. This is only her second speaking part in a movie, though she's acted in some public-awareness vignettes for the Collective Network. In Sectors of the Heart, she plays one of the Commerce Inspectors--a medium-size role, fourteen lines of dialogue and a good share of the fighting work."
"Will Chilena be in any of the same scenes as me?"
"Sorry, no; remember that her character is an exile, so she can't be in the thick of the battle against the corporate gunmen, even though she's done plenty of combat in other movies."
"Too bad; but at least I'll be SORT OF working with her. So sure, I'll do it."
"Great, thanks! I can promise you that the union won't obstruct your temporary credentialling."
Only later, at a big family supper, did Terrance find out why Ms. Cruller had made a point of telling him that last part. He enjoyed hearing how his big brother had humiliated the bullying union facilitator.
In consequence of the success of the Fairness Revolution, everyone who still had the will to resist enslavement had either escaped from America, like Uncle Alipang's friend for whom Cousin Brendan was named; been forced to bide their time, like Uncle Emilio; been sent to prisons where many were murdered, like the gallant Navy veteran for whom Cousin Wilson himself was named; or been stranded in the Western Enclave, like Cousin Wilson himself. All males not included in any of those categories were either thugs for the regime, obedient slaves of the regime, or -- like Cecilia's father Daniel Salisbury -- men with good hearts, but hogtied, handcuffed and hemmed in.
Now that Cecilia Ruth was old enough at least to think about eventual romance and marriage, she was painfully aware that outside the fence, Christian boys from her own age through age sixteen had all been more or less battered into submission. It wasn't their fault; everything in the D.S.A. was rigged against them. But fault or no fault, Cecilia would not have placed a blind man in the front saddle of a tandem bicycle when she was in the rear saddle; and she had no interest in marrying any boy who had been spiritually crushed by the iron wheels of dictatorship. Cousin Wilson, however, preserved in himself the manliness of his father, Uncle Alipang; and there was every reason to believe that male exile friends of Wilson's also had the qualities to become a girl's hero and love.
If there was any reason for her to think any farther than Wilson himself.
Overflowing with thoughts on these lines, Cecilia decided that she owed it to her father to confide her thoughts to him, not always and only to her mother. Daniel Salisbury had lived most of his life with many circumstances stacked against him, going as far back as the boyhood mononucleosis which had permanently weakened his health; yet he had achieved much good, and he deserved respect for that. So-- "Dad?"
"What can I do for you, precious?"
"Tell me what you think. How old do I need to be before I might be smart enough to know what
boy is meant to be my husband?"
That question was good for an hour of father-daughter talk.
= = = = = = = = = = = = =
Terrance and Harmony passed each other coming and going, the latter taking a train back to Nebraska and "Gaia's Guts." Daffodil Ford found an excuse not to be present at Harmony's departure...because he would almost rather die than to make the object of his adoration think he was so stupid as to dare to hope she could ever be his. Nor did he take any comfort from hearing that the fickle girl Skydazzle was still around and currently available. Harmony Havens made ordinary females seem SO ordinary.
Daffodil knew by now that Alipang Havens had once been "the younger boy" feeling exactly the same way about Kim Tisdale, who did in fact end up marrying him; but a five-year age difference appeared to Daffodil as so much greater than a two-year age difference, that he took no comfort from knowing what Alipang and Kim's outcome had been.
Terrance was dropped off in Casper by Forest Ranger Demophilos on a Tuesday afternoon. He had had to work the previous Sunday, and his leave would be over before he could attend next Sunday's worship at either of the churches familiar to him. But the happy news of the ex-cultist's conversion would spread fast enough among members of The Church of the Faithful and Sussex Gospel Church. His first order of business was to see Chilena and her husband and children, who had just gotten back to Casper themselves. Although he had not of course been as intensely close with Chilena in the old days in Virginia as Alipang had been, there were NO two Havens siblings who didn't share enough mutual love to make a reunion joyous. And Terrance had, for Chilena, the novelty effect of being a great deal bigger and stronger than he had been the last time she had seen him. So a joyful time was had by all, even though Irene had no prior memory of Uncle Terrance meeting her when she was a toddler, and Tommy didn't remember Terrance much more distinctly than Irene did.
Cecilia the Younger DID remember the enjoyment of Uncle Terrance tossing her in the air and catching her when she had been small. Although she had grown larger since then, so had he, and he proved he could still toss her upward at least a little bit.
Isadora Cruller was introduced to the youngest of her star Chilena's siblings before he had been back in town more than two hours. Appraising his sturdy physique, the film director asked him, "Can you do a convincing job of falling down wounded or stunned?"
"Ummm....I suppose so. What, you mean for Chilena's movie?"
"Exactly! We need plenty of shots of rank-and-file bad guys getting trank-darted, sonic-stunned or otherwise incapacitated by the heroic Commerce Inspectors in the climactic battle. So we can definitely use another extra who can look dangerous, and who hasn't been in the civilian-crowd scenes. Can you report to the shooting location tomorrow morning after breakfast? We're using a vacant warehouse for part of the action sequence; by filming you in there, we can use your bit regardless of what the weather is when we do exteriors. We'll fit you with a DeathstructionCorp security uniform; videocord some views of you wielding a prop gun, flashes and noise to be added later; have you fall down as a non-lethal weapon puts you out of action; and also have one shot of you being marched along in custody by Pulverizer after the battle."
"Pulverizer??"
"Oh, that's right, you wouldn't have heard of her, I'm forgetting you don't have holovision here. I mean Pulverizer Clarendon, an up-and-coming actress. This is only her second speaking part in a movie, though she's acted in some public-awareness vignettes for the Collective Network. In Sectors of the Heart, she plays one of the Commerce Inspectors--a medium-size role, fourteen lines of dialogue and a good share of the fighting work."
"Will Chilena be in any of the same scenes as me?"
"Sorry, no; remember that her character is an exile, so she can't be in the thick of the battle against the corporate gunmen, even though she's done plenty of combat in other movies."
"Too bad; but at least I'll be SORT OF working with her. So sure, I'll do it."
"Great, thanks! I can promise you that the union won't obstruct your temporary credentialling."
Only later, at a big family supper, did Terrance find out why Ms. Cruller had made a point of telling him that last part. He enjoyed hearing how his big brother had humiliated the bullying union facilitator.
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Copperfox
Well-known member
Before bedtime, Tommy Salisbury recited his Jesse James poem for Uncle Terrance. When finished, without giving his uncle an instant to react, the boy hastened to explain: "I _know_ it's a lie; I _know_ that the James Gang was stopped at Northfield by _armed_ citizens. But I had to give the Pioneer leaders _something_ they would like, or they would come down on us twice as hard to give up on Jesus and agree with everything the Pinkshirts say."
"That's what Chilena and I do with our movies," Dan told his in-laws. "We offer snacks to the crocodile, to try not to feed _ourselves_ to it. It's a shame to have to vandalize Shakespeare; but his plays are not the foundation of the Christian faith. So having Andrew Aguecheek be the _most_ manly male character in our version of The Twelfth Night was a small price to pay for not being ordered to deny Jesus directly on a continent-wide streamcast."
Chilena added, "Now even the refuge of _only_ ruining Shakespeare looks like being closed to us."
Eric Havens looked at his eldest daughter more intently. "Do you mean your public is losing interest?"
"No, Dad, that isn't it; people still love the Revised Shakespeare Series. But they're wanting it--or more accurately, the Indoctrination Department wants it--to be even _more_ revised. Closing our loophole there."
"Scarcely two weeks ago," Dan put in, "Galaxy Spirit herself issued her orders for what she wants the studio to do with Romeo and Juliet. Her version will make the Troma Entertainment parody from the Nineties look _reverent_ by comparison. Chilena and I simply _can't_ have anything to do with making this new adaptation. To give you only the gentlest hint of what they'll be doing to the material: Pulverizer Clarendon is being considered for the role of Juliet."
"So it was a God-sent reprieve," said Chilena, "that we were allowed to do _this_ production instead. Sectors of the Heart has an idiotic script, but it _doesn't_ rely on blasphemy and perversion; it doesn't even bash males as much as most movies nowadays."
Terrance registered surprise. "From what I hear Dan had to go through, if that's _less_ male-bashing than usual, I'm glad I _haven't_ seen any of the Revised Shakespeare movies."
"Terry, by current standards, this one's a Doris Day movie. So we _must_ make it a success; then we can hope to be allowed to film others like it, and _continue_ not having to deny Jesus or lose our union memberships."
"Wyoming certainly is a great piece of country for movie locations," said Eric.
"I wish we could all just _stay_ here," Tommy declared, "so I wouldn't have to try to keep Miss Yintavong happy anymore."
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
The next day, Terrance got his first sight of Pulverizer Clarendon. If she had not had mammary appendages and a feminine face, he would have sworn she was a man. What he could see of her skin looked abnormal--some hint in it of a reddish-orange coloring not natural to any subset of the human race.
Pulverizer, and another actor who _was_ a man, were costumed as Commerce Inspectors, and were talking to none other than Chilena herself in her exile character. Chilena actually was allowed to speak of Jesus having risen from the dead and being Lord. The Commerce Inspector characters, in return, spoke of how they believed in themselves and believed in life and so on, typical secular-humanist lines...but they did not say that Chilena's farm-woman character was _wrong_ to believe in Jesus. They even talked as if they _liked_ Chilena's character.
So maybe this _was_ the best deal Dan and Chilena could get in the Diversity States.
When this dialogue scene was all videocorded, Terrance was introduced to Pulverizer. "Do you mind if I test your falling skills a bit?" she asked; her voice, like her face, was more feminine than her physique.
Terrance consented... and soon found his whole body being flipped and flung this way and that way as if he were a child, so that he might have gotten hurt if he _hadn't_ been trained by his own brother in taking falls. Pulverizer was _stronger_ than he was; but he felt certain that her strength was the product of somatic alteration, not that of an unaltered woman at the strong end of normal possibility. Some biochemical change, of which her odd skin color could be a sign. That would be an irony, Terrance told himself inwardly, if some laboratory planned and studied and worked, and produced their super-woman artificially--as alleged proof that women by _nature_ are stronger than men.
It never became clear whether Ms. Clarendon held any animosity against men; she was civil enough when Terrance got his chance to suit up and play mercenary soldier. But it was no secret that the political party which pulled all the strings for American media _hated_ the ideals of manhood, as it hated the Bible. It was a stressful tightrope that Chilena must be walking; Terrance would be redoubling his prayers that she and Dan somehow still _would_ be able to keep on working, _without_ being backed into a corner and _ordered_ to disown their Savior.
After his little portion of the movie had been shot, it was this prayer need, not fantasies of himself becoming a movie star, which occupied his mind.
"That's what Chilena and I do with our movies," Dan told his in-laws. "We offer snacks to the crocodile, to try not to feed _ourselves_ to it. It's a shame to have to vandalize Shakespeare; but his plays are not the foundation of the Christian faith. So having Andrew Aguecheek be the _most_ manly male character in our version of The Twelfth Night was a small price to pay for not being ordered to deny Jesus directly on a continent-wide streamcast."
Chilena added, "Now even the refuge of _only_ ruining Shakespeare looks like being closed to us."
Eric Havens looked at his eldest daughter more intently. "Do you mean your public is losing interest?"
"No, Dad, that isn't it; people still love the Revised Shakespeare Series. But they're wanting it--or more accurately, the Indoctrination Department wants it--to be even _more_ revised. Closing our loophole there."
"Scarcely two weeks ago," Dan put in, "Galaxy Spirit herself issued her orders for what she wants the studio to do with Romeo and Juliet. Her version will make the Troma Entertainment parody from the Nineties look _reverent_ by comparison. Chilena and I simply _can't_ have anything to do with making this new adaptation. To give you only the gentlest hint of what they'll be doing to the material: Pulverizer Clarendon is being considered for the role of Juliet."
"So it was a God-sent reprieve," said Chilena, "that we were allowed to do _this_ production instead. Sectors of the Heart has an idiotic script, but it _doesn't_ rely on blasphemy and perversion; it doesn't even bash males as much as most movies nowadays."
Terrance registered surprise. "From what I hear Dan had to go through, if that's _less_ male-bashing than usual, I'm glad I _haven't_ seen any of the Revised Shakespeare movies."
"Terry, by current standards, this one's a Doris Day movie. So we _must_ make it a success; then we can hope to be allowed to film others like it, and _continue_ not having to deny Jesus or lose our union memberships."
"Wyoming certainly is a great piece of country for movie locations," said Eric.
"I wish we could all just _stay_ here," Tommy declared, "so I wouldn't have to try to keep Miss Yintavong happy anymore."
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
The next day, Terrance got his first sight of Pulverizer Clarendon. If she had not had mammary appendages and a feminine face, he would have sworn she was a man. What he could see of her skin looked abnormal--some hint in it of a reddish-orange coloring not natural to any subset of the human race.
Pulverizer, and another actor who _was_ a man, were costumed as Commerce Inspectors, and were talking to none other than Chilena herself in her exile character. Chilena actually was allowed to speak of Jesus having risen from the dead and being Lord. The Commerce Inspector characters, in return, spoke of how they believed in themselves and believed in life and so on, typical secular-humanist lines...but they did not say that Chilena's farm-woman character was _wrong_ to believe in Jesus. They even talked as if they _liked_ Chilena's character.
So maybe this _was_ the best deal Dan and Chilena could get in the Diversity States.
When this dialogue scene was all videocorded, Terrance was introduced to Pulverizer. "Do you mind if I test your falling skills a bit?" she asked; her voice, like her face, was more feminine than her physique.
Terrance consented... and soon found his whole body being flipped and flung this way and that way as if he were a child, so that he might have gotten hurt if he _hadn't_ been trained by his own brother in taking falls. Pulverizer was _stronger_ than he was; but he felt certain that her strength was the product of somatic alteration, not that of an unaltered woman at the strong end of normal possibility. Some biochemical change, of which her odd skin color could be a sign. That would be an irony, Terrance told himself inwardly, if some laboratory planned and studied and worked, and produced their super-woman artificially--as alleged proof that women by _nature_ are stronger than men.
It never became clear whether Ms. Clarendon held any animosity against men; she was civil enough when Terrance got his chance to suit up and play mercenary soldier. But it was no secret that the political party which pulled all the strings for American media _hated_ the ideals of manhood, as it hated the Bible. It was a stressful tightrope that Chilena must be walking; Terrance would be redoubling his prayers that she and Dan somehow still _would_ be able to keep on working, _without_ being backed into a corner and _ordered_ to disown their Savior.
After his little portion of the movie had been shot, it was this prayer need, not fantasies of himself becoming a movie star, which occupied his mind.
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Copperfox
Well-known member
The next day, having not too great a patient load, Eric Havens insisted that Cecilia the Elder get out of the house with Cecilia the Younger and Terrance, to watch some more of the movie company's activity. It was in this way that Terrance was to have a much more pleasing encounter with a female than what had happened with Ms. Clarendon.
It so happened that there was only one exile in Wyoming Sector who had been a professional carpetlayer before being arrested and relocated. That person was a resident of Sussex: Nick Forrester, father of Terrance's tentative girlfriend Jillian. Isadora Cruller wanted some new carpeting installed in two rooms of a building in Casper that would be used for interior scenes, so on this day an available fixed-wing plane belonging to the Agriculture Department had brought him down. Jillian, aware that Terrance would be in Casper on leave, and wanting to be _less_ tentative about being his girlfriend, begged her way onto the flight, saying with some truth that she could help her father lay carpet.
Terrance, his mother and his niece witnessed the completion of an outdoor dialogue scene involving non-exile actors whom young Cecilia had heard of but the other two had not. The actors, playing exile characters, were as clueless about Christian beliefs as the thugs had been who posed as "Ku Klux Quakers;" they said things like, "I hope that Jesus will help me to meet the collective crop-yield quota for winter wheat this year." But for all of this, the movie _wasn't_ presenting any message to the effect that people ought to _quit_ following Jesus. The Christian characters were being shown sympathetically, albeit somewhat condescendingly. Much better than the "Nazi mutants" in the Churchbusters enactment. So that was worth something.
When the call of "Cut!" was given, and onlookers could speak again, Terrance heard a familiar voice calling his name. Jillian and her father had been standing out of the way while the scene was videocorded; now Jillian was running toward Terrance with arms reaching ahead. Her wide-eyed facial expression was so exuberantly happy, she almost looked frightened. Her father, following closely behind her, gave no sign of disapproval; he knew the moral fiber of the Havens family.
Bounding into Terrance's arms, Jillian kissed both his cheeks, then was daring enough to kiss his lips briefly. Her father, meanwhile, introduced himself to young Cecilia, with whom he had not had the chance to speak when she had been up in Sussex not long ago.
Adult Cecilia said, "Jillian, dear, how good of you to be so enthusiastic about seeing ME again!" Intoxicated with Terrance's nearness, the girl took a moment to grasp that the older woman was joking.
Isadora presently drew Nick into a discussion of the carpeting job. Not immediately needed for that, Jillian remained latched onto Terrance--and started chattering about how wonderfully the marriage of Henry and Huldah Spafford was going so far, and how Huldah being only seventeen wasn't causing any difficulty. Terrance conversed with her along this line for a minute or so, but then changed the subject to the conversion of Frodo Von Spock.
The actor who had been the second Commerce Inspector yesterday in the scene with Chilena and Pulverizer was loitering close enough to hear most of what was being said; he did look Jillian up and down, yet was also genuinely following the conversation. Terrance by now had learned that this man's first name was Fluffykin. After listening to a good deal about Frodo Von Spock, Fluffykin suddenly tapped Terrance on the shoulder. "Excuse me, wasn't Citizen Von Spock the author of a net-book titled When Archangels Get The Urge? I read that last year."
"Why, yes, he was. He's told me about it. But _now_ Frodo says he wishes he never had written it. He agrees with me that it was a _dumb_ book. His 'Archangel' talk was mostly just based on Heinlein's novel Stranger In A Strange Land."
Fluffykin frowned. "Can't you Biblicals _ever_ let people go their own way? I _liked_ that book, especially the chapter about how leaving your lovers without warning helps _them_ to grow. No wonder you're in here;" and away he stalked, finding someone else to talk to. The someone else was a man called Zimmo Garland, another Indoctrination Department movie director--not involved in making the current movie, but visiting the location to develop his ideas for making future movies in the Enclave.
Clinging harder to Terrance, Jillian half-whispered, "You won't leave me without warning, will you?"
Cecilia the Elder tried to help her son off the hot seat: "Eric and I taught all of our children about fairness and consideration in love and friendship. Terrance would never blindside you, unless it were with a _good_ surprise. Isn't that right, Terrance?"
"Of course, Mom. Every step that happens with Jillian and me is going to be accompanied by prayer, two-way discussion, and input from our parents and pastors. Now that more stuff is _happening_ in the Enclave, we have more details to face for our future--like the possibility that we could be able to get a college education after all."
"You're right," Jillian conceded, without letting herself be any less closely snuggled up to her sweetheart. "But remember that the future is about _who_ is in that future _with_ you."
It so happened that there was only one exile in Wyoming Sector who had been a professional carpetlayer before being arrested and relocated. That person was a resident of Sussex: Nick Forrester, father of Terrance's tentative girlfriend Jillian. Isadora Cruller wanted some new carpeting installed in two rooms of a building in Casper that would be used for interior scenes, so on this day an available fixed-wing plane belonging to the Agriculture Department had brought him down. Jillian, aware that Terrance would be in Casper on leave, and wanting to be _less_ tentative about being his girlfriend, begged her way onto the flight, saying with some truth that she could help her father lay carpet.
Terrance, his mother and his niece witnessed the completion of an outdoor dialogue scene involving non-exile actors whom young Cecilia had heard of but the other two had not. The actors, playing exile characters, were as clueless about Christian beliefs as the thugs had been who posed as "Ku Klux Quakers;" they said things like, "I hope that Jesus will help me to meet the collective crop-yield quota for winter wheat this year." But for all of this, the movie _wasn't_ presenting any message to the effect that people ought to _quit_ following Jesus. The Christian characters were being shown sympathetically, albeit somewhat condescendingly. Much better than the "Nazi mutants" in the Churchbusters enactment. So that was worth something.
When the call of "Cut!" was given, and onlookers could speak again, Terrance heard a familiar voice calling his name. Jillian and her father had been standing out of the way while the scene was videocorded; now Jillian was running toward Terrance with arms reaching ahead. Her wide-eyed facial expression was so exuberantly happy, she almost looked frightened. Her father, following closely behind her, gave no sign of disapproval; he knew the moral fiber of the Havens family.
Bounding into Terrance's arms, Jillian kissed both his cheeks, then was daring enough to kiss his lips briefly. Her father, meanwhile, introduced himself to young Cecilia, with whom he had not had the chance to speak when she had been up in Sussex not long ago.
Adult Cecilia said, "Jillian, dear, how good of you to be so enthusiastic about seeing ME again!" Intoxicated with Terrance's nearness, the girl took a moment to grasp that the older woman was joking.
Isadora presently drew Nick into a discussion of the carpeting job. Not immediately needed for that, Jillian remained latched onto Terrance--and started chattering about how wonderfully the marriage of Henry and Huldah Spafford was going so far, and how Huldah being only seventeen wasn't causing any difficulty. Terrance conversed with her along this line for a minute or so, but then changed the subject to the conversion of Frodo Von Spock.
The actor who had been the second Commerce Inspector yesterday in the scene with Chilena and Pulverizer was loitering close enough to hear most of what was being said; he did look Jillian up and down, yet was also genuinely following the conversation. Terrance by now had learned that this man's first name was Fluffykin. After listening to a good deal about Frodo Von Spock, Fluffykin suddenly tapped Terrance on the shoulder. "Excuse me, wasn't Citizen Von Spock the author of a net-book titled When Archangels Get The Urge? I read that last year."
"Why, yes, he was. He's told me about it. But _now_ Frodo says he wishes he never had written it. He agrees with me that it was a _dumb_ book. His 'Archangel' talk was mostly just based on Heinlein's novel Stranger In A Strange Land."
Fluffykin frowned. "Can't you Biblicals _ever_ let people go their own way? I _liked_ that book, especially the chapter about how leaving your lovers without warning helps _them_ to grow. No wonder you're in here;" and away he stalked, finding someone else to talk to. The someone else was a man called Zimmo Garland, another Indoctrination Department movie director--not involved in making the current movie, but visiting the location to develop his ideas for making future movies in the Enclave.
Clinging harder to Terrance, Jillian half-whispered, "You won't leave me without warning, will you?"
Cecilia the Elder tried to help her son off the hot seat: "Eric and I taught all of our children about fairness and consideration in love and friendship. Terrance would never blindside you, unless it were with a _good_ surprise. Isn't that right, Terrance?"
"Of course, Mom. Every step that happens with Jillian and me is going to be accompanied by prayer, two-way discussion, and input from our parents and pastors. Now that more stuff is _happening_ in the Enclave, we have more details to face for our future--like the possibility that we could be able to get a college education after all."
"You're right," Jillian conceded, without letting herself be any less closely snuggled up to her sweetheart. "But remember that the future is about _who_ is in that future _with_ you."
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Copperfox
Well-known member
Chapter 92: Inbound and Outbound
Starting another day at his hospital job in Uganda, medical technologist Josiah Redfern found that he was once again to be introduced by the administrator to someone interesting.
In the spy-proof conference room, Setyabulleh Mawejje directed Josiah's attention to an elderly European gentleman. "Josiah Redfern, meet Professor Matti Siermaala; Matti, Josiah. Matti speaks English."
The former soldier shook hands. "From Finland?"
"Originally. When my house and laboratory were demolished to make room for a new mosque, I began feeling unwanted. I escaped to Poland as soon as I could. I say I, singular; my surviving relatives had already gotten out. I was at least able to bring away my late wife's ashes."
"And was your laboratory connected with medical technology?"
Professor Siermaala glanced sidelong at Doctor Mawejje. "You were right, he does catch on quickly." Facing Josiah again: "Yes, I was developing some ideas in ultrasound scanning. What you might call reverse engineering. I wanted to produce an ultrasound set which would give the same benefits for diagnosis as the current state-of-the-art devices...yet whose electronic workings would all be on an _analog_ basis, like early television."
Josiah's eyes widened. "That would be the _very_ sort of thing we're trying to offer to the D.S.A.! They're afraid of letting their peasants have unsupervised internet use anymore, so they enforce tight controls on possession of _anything_ computerized; but what you describe could even be brought inside their Western Enclave to benefit exiles, and they wouldn't be scared. Have you got a working model?"
"I _will_ have one, very soon, thanks to this interesting secret society that you fellows have going."
"Colonel Parnescu approached Professor Siermaala within hours after he made it into Poland," Mawejje explained. "The network was aware of his medical-related work, and saw at once that it could help us get a foot in the door with the Trevette regime."
"My return to analog was not at first conceived as a way to get around those computer-use restrictions in America," said Siermaala. "I was looking for ways to produce various useful electronic devices which _wouldn't_ be vulnerable to hackers and viruses. But that line of research falls right into the pattern of what you people wish to do. Accordingly, Corporal Redfern-- yes, they told me about your military record --you will shortly undergo a training course, helped by brain acceleration, to learn how to operate my apparatus...in ALL of its applications."
"What, is there more to it than meets the eye?"
"There is. It will give medical benefits as advertised; but it can be made to serve other functions besides. Those other functions will achieve many things for you when you go to work in America."
Josiah looked at his boss. "All of this sounds as if you're confident by now that we _will_ be welcomed into the Diversity States."
Mawejje nodded. "Our monitoring of Nalani Hahona and Cassandra Jefferson has paid off. They were made aware, and thus WE were made aware, that Greater China, in return for the favor our network did them, has instructed Washington to accept our offer."
"If that's so, hasn't Beijing told us the same thing directly?"
"Not yet. We believe that Beijing _will_ confirm this fact for us, but that at this moment they're still sniffing out suspicious persons in their own power structures, because of which they're limiting their own confidential communications as a matter of principle. But those American diplomats and their superiors _don't_ know that we're monitoring them, so they had no reason to trick us with disinformation. We therefore are proceeding on the assumption that our 'humanitarian' visit to America _will_ be given a green light."
"Which means," Professor Siermaala told Josiah, "that you will be spending much of today letting me know _exactly_ how extensive your knowledge of medical imaging technology is."
Yes, it means that, thought Josiah. It also means that I might really be able to meet my test-tube son, Daffodil Ford.
Starting another day at his hospital job in Uganda, medical technologist Josiah Redfern found that he was once again to be introduced by the administrator to someone interesting.
In the spy-proof conference room, Setyabulleh Mawejje directed Josiah's attention to an elderly European gentleman. "Josiah Redfern, meet Professor Matti Siermaala; Matti, Josiah. Matti speaks English."
The former soldier shook hands. "From Finland?"
"Originally. When my house and laboratory were demolished to make room for a new mosque, I began feeling unwanted. I escaped to Poland as soon as I could. I say I, singular; my surviving relatives had already gotten out. I was at least able to bring away my late wife's ashes."
"And was your laboratory connected with medical technology?"
Professor Siermaala glanced sidelong at Doctor Mawejje. "You were right, he does catch on quickly." Facing Josiah again: "Yes, I was developing some ideas in ultrasound scanning. What you might call reverse engineering. I wanted to produce an ultrasound set which would give the same benefits for diagnosis as the current state-of-the-art devices...yet whose electronic workings would all be on an _analog_ basis, like early television."
Josiah's eyes widened. "That would be the _very_ sort of thing we're trying to offer to the D.S.A.! They're afraid of letting their peasants have unsupervised internet use anymore, so they enforce tight controls on possession of _anything_ computerized; but what you describe could even be brought inside their Western Enclave to benefit exiles, and they wouldn't be scared. Have you got a working model?"
"I _will_ have one, very soon, thanks to this interesting secret society that you fellows have going."
"Colonel Parnescu approached Professor Siermaala within hours after he made it into Poland," Mawejje explained. "The network was aware of his medical-related work, and saw at once that it could help us get a foot in the door with the Trevette regime."
"My return to analog was not at first conceived as a way to get around those computer-use restrictions in America," said Siermaala. "I was looking for ways to produce various useful electronic devices which _wouldn't_ be vulnerable to hackers and viruses. But that line of research falls right into the pattern of what you people wish to do. Accordingly, Corporal Redfern-- yes, they told me about your military record --you will shortly undergo a training course, helped by brain acceleration, to learn how to operate my apparatus...in ALL of its applications."
"What, is there more to it than meets the eye?"
"There is. It will give medical benefits as advertised; but it can be made to serve other functions besides. Those other functions will achieve many things for you when you go to work in America."
Josiah looked at his boss. "All of this sounds as if you're confident by now that we _will_ be welcomed into the Diversity States."
Mawejje nodded. "Our monitoring of Nalani Hahona and Cassandra Jefferson has paid off. They were made aware, and thus WE were made aware, that Greater China, in return for the favor our network did them, has instructed Washington to accept our offer."
"If that's so, hasn't Beijing told us the same thing directly?"
"Not yet. We believe that Beijing _will_ confirm this fact for us, but that at this moment they're still sniffing out suspicious persons in their own power structures, because of which they're limiting their own confidential communications as a matter of principle. But those American diplomats and their superiors _don't_ know that we're monitoring them, so they had no reason to trick us with disinformation. We therefore are proceeding on the assumption that our 'humanitarian' visit to America _will_ be given a green light."
"Which means," Professor Siermaala told Josiah, "that you will be spending much of today letting me know _exactly_ how extensive your knowledge of medical imaging technology is."
Yes, it means that, thought Josiah. It also means that I might really be able to meet my test-tube son, Daffodil Ford.
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Copperfox
Well-known member
In Georgetown, at a time when Evan was working and all the children were at one form of school or another, Summer Rand was suddenly visited by Dobie Marsalis. Apartment doors _outside_ the Enclave were not expected to be left unlocked; but certain privileged persons, including labor-union enforcers, possessed master keys for apartment buildings where persons lived who were in some way subordinate to them.
"Summer, are you decent?" the huge man called to her as he stood at the half-opened door. This superficial courtesy didn't reassure Summer. Male guards in Leavenworth Self-Esteem Center had not kept _their_ hands off her; and even though Dobie had not so far offered her any insult, she couldn't help _feeling_ as if he were a threat. Certainly she knew, by way of her husband hearing it, that the labor-governance facilitator had pleasured himself with a great many _other_ women--although it was thought that he only took willing ones.
But there was no telling him to go away. In fact, Summer had resolved before now that, if Dobie ever did want to use her carnally, she would submit to it... to protect her husband and children from reprisals.
But the jazz-loving muscleman did wait to come all the way into the apartment until she said it was all right; and once inside, he spoke in a fairly impersonal manner, while seeming to sense how far he needed to stand from her in order not to frighten her.
"I won't take much of your time, Citizen Rand, but I've been told some news which I thought you'd like to hear in private." His next words proved that he was good at sensing fear in others: "Hey, relax, the news is all good, nothing to worry about. First, we know that you haven't had any communication from your friends the Salisburys since they went into the Enclave. Carolyn Biao received some reports through the grapevine this morning. Not only is the shooting going well on that movie Dan and Chilena are starring in, but exiles are starting to be given walk-on roles in it. Like Terrance Havens, one of Chilena's brothers: he'll be in the big shoot-out climax as a villain. And _everyone_ in the Havens collective seems to be in good health now.
"Than there's news closer at hand. I believe you know that the Chinese invited American women to another competition for another two or three breeding billets in the Lunar Orchard colony?"
Summer nodded mutely.
"Well, guess who one of the contestants is? The same girl who tried to come on to Evan when he had just been admitted into our union! So you can be sure that _she_ won't be making any more attempts to steal your partner. Even if she doesn't get to go to the Moon, just her being in the competition is likely to catch her some new boyfriend."
Now Summer was both afraid of seeming rude by not showing appreciation for the good news, and afraid that if she did show appreciation, Dobie might choose to see this as... an invitation. After an awkward eight seconds of silence, she forced herself to say, "Thank you. I trust Evan anyway, but it _will_ be nice to know that one pest is leaving him alone."
"Okay, glad I could brighten your day a bit. Is there anything you need before I go?"
"Um, no, thank you, I guess not."
"Very well; the collective is all!" And just like that, Facilitator Marsalis was gone again--leaving Summer as completely un-abused and un-assaulted as at every other encounter between them. Now she was _almost_ convinced that he really _didn't_ mean any harm at all to her or her family; but after years of living in fear and vulnerabiity, it was hard for her _not_ to be worried.
"Summer, are you decent?" the huge man called to her as he stood at the half-opened door. This superficial courtesy didn't reassure Summer. Male guards in Leavenworth Self-Esteem Center had not kept _their_ hands off her; and even though Dobie had not so far offered her any insult, she couldn't help _feeling_ as if he were a threat. Certainly she knew, by way of her husband hearing it, that the labor-governance facilitator had pleasured himself with a great many _other_ women--although it was thought that he only took willing ones.
But there was no telling him to go away. In fact, Summer had resolved before now that, if Dobie ever did want to use her carnally, she would submit to it... to protect her husband and children from reprisals.
But the jazz-loving muscleman did wait to come all the way into the apartment until she said it was all right; and once inside, he spoke in a fairly impersonal manner, while seeming to sense how far he needed to stand from her in order not to frighten her.
"I won't take much of your time, Citizen Rand, but I've been told some news which I thought you'd like to hear in private." His next words proved that he was good at sensing fear in others: "Hey, relax, the news is all good, nothing to worry about. First, we know that you haven't had any communication from your friends the Salisburys since they went into the Enclave. Carolyn Biao received some reports through the grapevine this morning. Not only is the shooting going well on that movie Dan and Chilena are starring in, but exiles are starting to be given walk-on roles in it. Like Terrance Havens, one of Chilena's brothers: he'll be in the big shoot-out climax as a villain. And _everyone_ in the Havens collective seems to be in good health now.
"Than there's news closer at hand. I believe you know that the Chinese invited American women to another competition for another two or three breeding billets in the Lunar Orchard colony?"
Summer nodded mutely.
"Well, guess who one of the contestants is? The same girl who tried to come on to Evan when he had just been admitted into our union! So you can be sure that _she_ won't be making any more attempts to steal your partner. Even if she doesn't get to go to the Moon, just her being in the competition is likely to catch her some new boyfriend."
Now Summer was both afraid of seeming rude by not showing appreciation for the good news, and afraid that if she did show appreciation, Dobie might choose to see this as... an invitation. After an awkward eight seconds of silence, she forced herself to say, "Thank you. I trust Evan anyway, but it _will_ be nice to know that one pest is leaving him alone."
"Okay, glad I could brighten your day a bit. Is there anything you need before I go?"
"Um, no, thank you, I guess not."
"Very well; the collective is all!" And just like that, Facilitator Marsalis was gone again--leaving Summer as completely un-abused and un-assaulted as at every other encounter between them. Now she was _almost_ convinced that he really _didn't_ mean any harm at all to her or her family; but after years of living in fear and vulnerabiity, it was hard for her _not_ to be worried.
Zella
New member
I hope he can.
Copperfox
Well-known member
The young woman who had offered unwanted attentions to Evan on a train ride was in fact destined to find a new lover in the course of entering the Moon-colony contest, and would not pester Summer's husband anymore. She was not, however, destined to reside in the domes and subsurface galleries of the Lunar Orchard. The Collective Network and the Oneness Channel were already hyping the "talent search," to give proletarian women the hope of something exciting. In reality, though, the fix was in for the selection of new American space colonists.
Involved in the fixing was the Aztlano citizen from the Bucaneros gang who had first brought to Samantha Ford the warning of Sherman Lake's palace-revolution plot, and who was in the good graces of the Trevette administration. Felipe Contreras was not privy to Jessica Trevette's liaison and shared scheming with Emilio Formentera; but he was allowed to know many other things about the Fairness Party elite--including things El Presidente Tonio Formentera knew that his son didn't know.
In an office in Portland, Northwest Federal District, two shapely and intelligent women, Diversity States citizens, were waiting for Contreras to come and introduce them to someone who had a special interest in seeing _them_ in particular sent to the Chinese Moon colony. One of the women was black, the other white; the Chinese had made it plain that in supplying a diverse gene pool for child-production on the Moon, they were _already_ sufficiently supplied with Asian chromosomes, thank you very much. These two women were friends to each other, though not in the man-despising fashion of women like Ex-Ambassador Ford. And they possessed enough technical education that they could fairly easily be trained into new jobs which had relevance for the Moon settlement.
Felipe Contreras arrived, accompanied by a Chinese man somewhat older than the Aztlano hoodlum. "Thank you for waiting, senoritas bonitas," Contreras gushed. "Our promising business may now proceed." Well might he gush; for unlike the time he had had to _look_ at the charms of Samantha Ford and Cassandra Jefferson without daring to show anything like attraction, _these_ women had both voluntarily treated him to a much more complete enjoyment of _their_ charms on the previous evening. The Chinese were not demanding purity in their supplementary breeders, provided they had health and brains.
Of course, the health part was going to be giving the Lunar Orchard personnel a big surprise, no later than two months from now.
"I also thank you for waiting," said the Chinese man. "My name is Cho Kwok-Shu...although both of you will have to undergo a temporary memory block with respect to having met me. I am the Triad representative you heard about as providing the biotechnology for our project."
"Nice to meet you, sir," said the black woman. "Will we also have to forget the technology?"
"For awhile, yes; but it will ride along safely with you until the time comes to use it. You will be carrying it in these rings;" and he showed them transparent cases containing rings, each ring topped with what looked like a pearl. "Your brain treatment _will_ allow you to remember that the rings are highly important to you, always to be kept safe, and never taken off if you can avoid it. When the time comes for you to act, a conditioned-response stimulus will make you remember everything about the rings, and about the _real_ reason you were sent to the Lunar Orchard. Then you will each _swallow_ the imitation pearl from your ring; they will dissolve in your stomachs without harm to you, and soon their biomodification effects will go to work. I'll be telling you more about that shortly; but I will say now that the two of you--selected in part because you're accustomed to cooperating with each other, without strife or quarrels--will have the power together to _dominate_ the colony, making all the others do as you command."
"Somewhat like the way Jessica Trevette is able to sway and influence people she meets," volunteered Contreras.
The white woman asked Mr. Cho, "What can your interest BE in a Moon colony? Some kind of hideout? Even if we do take it over completely, the whole place currently can only accommodate what, like two hundred people tops? And it's only just barely achieved self-sufficiency in sustaining life. How much use can it be to the Triads?"
"I'm not sure Senor Cho wants to--" Contreras began to interject.
"It's all right, Felipe, this will also be part of what they forget until we can allow them to remember it again. It's true, a Moon base _isn't_ a very good place for our members to seek refuge; but _Beijing_ prizes it so dearly, that our taking _control_ of it--through two lovely proxies--would give us an invaluable bargaining counter _against_ Beijing."
The white woman murmured, "That's a new one: taking the whole Moon hostage."
Cho smiled. "Only the inhabited part. But my association is in urgent _need_ of bargaining counters. Back inside China, the Ministry of Internal Affairs, and other power structures, are digging relentlessly to uncover all our remaining sanctuaries and hidden assets. We need ways to put pressure on _them_ to back off. The infiltration of the Lunar Orchard, on the view of our leadership, will be our single heaviest gun in this campaign."
The black woman laughed. "Well, it isn't as if we have much else to do, since we lost our steady jobs. And by the sound of your explanation, we won't have to _kill_ anyone on the Moon."
"You _probably_ won't," Cho amended. "But if I'm not mistaken, both of you ladies _have_ celebrated the completion of some human lives in your former line of work."
"True enough. And we didn't lose our positions because any superiors got angry at us; it was just that the whole organization was downsized."
The white woman added: "Still, we'd both rather keep the men at Lunar Orchard for fun than kill them. And we're not eager to kill the women, either; we don't mind sharing the men with them."
Contreras laughed. "Good thing, because you'll have extra women TO share the men with, besides the ones already on the Moon. Beijing offered some trade incentives to the European and Egyptian Caliphates to allow several women from _their_ populations to become Lunar Orchard breeders also."
"Why not the Babylonian and Central Asian Caliphates?"
"Because the average person from the European or the Egyptian Caliphate is genetically farther removed from the Chinese than the others are. Gene pool diversity again."
"Those women at least are experienced at _having_ to share a man with other women," smirked Cho.
"But that doesn't mean they won't compete hard for the chance to get _out_ of where they are now," Contreras replied. "I've already seen some pirate holovideo from cities in those Caliphates where women are being allowed to apply for emigration to the Moon. YOU two ladies may be above wishing harm to other women, but--caramba! You haven't seen strangeness, until you've seen two faceless, blobby burkas colliding, _trying_ to have a fight, when their movements are so impeded that they can scarcely hold on to each other. Like a wrestling match between two beanbags! Funniest thing you ever saw!"
"Well, maybe the funniest thing _you_ ever saw," corrected the white woman, former Enclave Overseer Faye Miller.
"Mr. Cho, let's get back to the actual briefing," said the black woman, former Enclave Overseer Luminessa Tigobo.
Involved in the fixing was the Aztlano citizen from the Bucaneros gang who had first brought to Samantha Ford the warning of Sherman Lake's palace-revolution plot, and who was in the good graces of the Trevette administration. Felipe Contreras was not privy to Jessica Trevette's liaison and shared scheming with Emilio Formentera; but he was allowed to know many other things about the Fairness Party elite--including things El Presidente Tonio Formentera knew that his son didn't know.
In an office in Portland, Northwest Federal District, two shapely and intelligent women, Diversity States citizens, were waiting for Contreras to come and introduce them to someone who had a special interest in seeing _them_ in particular sent to the Chinese Moon colony. One of the women was black, the other white; the Chinese had made it plain that in supplying a diverse gene pool for child-production on the Moon, they were _already_ sufficiently supplied with Asian chromosomes, thank you very much. These two women were friends to each other, though not in the man-despising fashion of women like Ex-Ambassador Ford. And they possessed enough technical education that they could fairly easily be trained into new jobs which had relevance for the Moon settlement.
Felipe Contreras arrived, accompanied by a Chinese man somewhat older than the Aztlano hoodlum. "Thank you for waiting, senoritas bonitas," Contreras gushed. "Our promising business may now proceed." Well might he gush; for unlike the time he had had to _look_ at the charms of Samantha Ford and Cassandra Jefferson without daring to show anything like attraction, _these_ women had both voluntarily treated him to a much more complete enjoyment of _their_ charms on the previous evening. The Chinese were not demanding purity in their supplementary breeders, provided they had health and brains.
Of course, the health part was going to be giving the Lunar Orchard personnel a big surprise, no later than two months from now.
"I also thank you for waiting," said the Chinese man. "My name is Cho Kwok-Shu...although both of you will have to undergo a temporary memory block with respect to having met me. I am the Triad representative you heard about as providing the biotechnology for our project."
"Nice to meet you, sir," said the black woman. "Will we also have to forget the technology?"
"For awhile, yes; but it will ride along safely with you until the time comes to use it. You will be carrying it in these rings;" and he showed them transparent cases containing rings, each ring topped with what looked like a pearl. "Your brain treatment _will_ allow you to remember that the rings are highly important to you, always to be kept safe, and never taken off if you can avoid it. When the time comes for you to act, a conditioned-response stimulus will make you remember everything about the rings, and about the _real_ reason you were sent to the Lunar Orchard. Then you will each _swallow_ the imitation pearl from your ring; they will dissolve in your stomachs without harm to you, and soon their biomodification effects will go to work. I'll be telling you more about that shortly; but I will say now that the two of you--selected in part because you're accustomed to cooperating with each other, without strife or quarrels--will have the power together to _dominate_ the colony, making all the others do as you command."
"Somewhat like the way Jessica Trevette is able to sway and influence people she meets," volunteered Contreras.
The white woman asked Mr. Cho, "What can your interest BE in a Moon colony? Some kind of hideout? Even if we do take it over completely, the whole place currently can only accommodate what, like two hundred people tops? And it's only just barely achieved self-sufficiency in sustaining life. How much use can it be to the Triads?"
"I'm not sure Senor Cho wants to--" Contreras began to interject.
"It's all right, Felipe, this will also be part of what they forget until we can allow them to remember it again. It's true, a Moon base _isn't_ a very good place for our members to seek refuge; but _Beijing_ prizes it so dearly, that our taking _control_ of it--through two lovely proxies--would give us an invaluable bargaining counter _against_ Beijing."
The white woman murmured, "That's a new one: taking the whole Moon hostage."
Cho smiled. "Only the inhabited part. But my association is in urgent _need_ of bargaining counters. Back inside China, the Ministry of Internal Affairs, and other power structures, are digging relentlessly to uncover all our remaining sanctuaries and hidden assets. We need ways to put pressure on _them_ to back off. The infiltration of the Lunar Orchard, on the view of our leadership, will be our single heaviest gun in this campaign."
The black woman laughed. "Well, it isn't as if we have much else to do, since we lost our steady jobs. And by the sound of your explanation, we won't have to _kill_ anyone on the Moon."
"You _probably_ won't," Cho amended. "But if I'm not mistaken, both of you ladies _have_ celebrated the completion of some human lives in your former line of work."
"True enough. And we didn't lose our positions because any superiors got angry at us; it was just that the whole organization was downsized."
The white woman added: "Still, we'd both rather keep the men at Lunar Orchard for fun than kill them. And we're not eager to kill the women, either; we don't mind sharing the men with them."
Contreras laughed. "Good thing, because you'll have extra women TO share the men with, besides the ones already on the Moon. Beijing offered some trade incentives to the European and Egyptian Caliphates to allow several women from _their_ populations to become Lunar Orchard breeders also."
"Why not the Babylonian and Central Asian Caliphates?"
"Because the average person from the European or the Egyptian Caliphate is genetically farther removed from the Chinese than the others are. Gene pool diversity again."
"Those women at least are experienced at _having_ to share a man with other women," smirked Cho.
"But that doesn't mean they won't compete hard for the chance to get _out_ of where they are now," Contreras replied. "I've already seen some pirate holovideo from cities in those Caliphates where women are being allowed to apply for emigration to the Moon. YOU two ladies may be above wishing harm to other women, but--caramba! You haven't seen strangeness, until you've seen two faceless, blobby burkas colliding, _trying_ to have a fight, when their movements are so impeded that they can scarcely hold on to each other. Like a wrestling match between two beanbags! Funniest thing you ever saw!"
"Well, maybe the funniest thing _you_ ever saw," corrected the white woman, former Enclave Overseer Faye Miller.
"Mr. Cho, let's get back to the actual briefing," said the black woman, former Enclave Overseer Luminessa Tigobo.
Copperfox
Well-known member
Inside the territory where Overseers Tigobo and Miller had formerly worked, one of the two Grange riders who had once come to their aid was riding for the Grange once again. Alipang Havens had been called for duty by the Crazy Woman Creek Grange Hall, to pitch in with bear control as the bears were coming out of hibernation; cougars and wolves were also to be watched for, of course. This had meant not getting a chance to visit with Terrance, but it couldn't be helped. Henry was out of the rotation for awhile, what with setting up his household with Huldah AND her father and brother; and hunters were needed now. Riding with Alipang was Porter Hennepin, the black man formerly volunteering for a Grange Hall east of Rapid City.
The two bow hunters were crossing a wide open stretch, where potentially tall grass, trampled and eaten all winter by deer and elk, had not yet gotten far with its annual comeback. As they rode, Alipang remarked, "I wish John Wisebadger could be with us this trip. Since he's been an Ombudsman, he just can't give time to the trail life the way he used to."
"That isn't the only change," replied Porter. "I heard from Gabe Ellison the other day, and he says that the Energy Department is already marking off where the new fence line will be, when they expand the Enclave to take in Yellowstone."
Alipang said in turn, "I can't complain about more employment coming onto the reservation; but I'm worried that some of our fellow exiles will make suicidal attempts to get out when the perimeter's being shifted."
"No doubt that's one reason why the triumvirate is edging us Grangers closer to having actual police authority: the hope that our friends will listen to us, and be talked out of making useless breaks for it."
"Speaking of escaping: though I'm glad to have you helping us in Wyoming Sector, didn't you only come away from South Dakota because there was a danger that Nash Dockerty's mob might be after you there? Now Dockerty's gone, you could go back where you were, couldn't you?"
Porter sighed. "Yes, I could. But then it would be Victoria Tabor who was after me."
"Tabor? That's the family that had the fire on their property, right? The pretended Ku Klux Quaker attack?"
"Yeah--the _Mormon_ family that had the fire, et cetera. Victoria's a nice young woman; but I simply _can't_ see marrying any woman who believes that the God of the Bible came from a previous God, who came from another previous God, who came from a still earlier God, who came from yet another God, in an infinite retrogression. That doctrine is head-on against the statements in Isaiah that there _can't_ be any additional Gods before or after the One we know. A lot of Mormons have rejected the polytheism by now, but the Tabor family hasn't. And if I _have_ to be an exile for my faith, I might as well be _staying_ in my faith. So while I'm in Wyoming, I don't have to see Victoria shooting sad, wounded expressions at me."
"Hmmm. You know how Huldah Spafford received Jesus. If Miss Tabor also became a Biblical Christian, _then_ would you be interested?"
"Possibly, though I'm a bit old for her. But I can't do anything about it except pray for her. Even with the Overseers removed from the Enclave, I could still get jumped for 'hate speech' if I'm known to have told the Tabors they're in error."
"But Henry shared _his_ faith with the Rosenbaums, and didn't get in any trouble for it."
"That's because the Rosenbaums _consented_ to his sharing. I already know that the Tabors _won't_ listen to anything that contradicts Doctrines and Covenants."
Alipang told him, "Then if Miss Victoria stays polytheistic, you're just going to have to find a woman who's Biblically orthodox. We do happen to have some of those in Wyoming Sector."
The conversation, like the Grange horses, rambled onward. Half an hour later, the dirigible which had been used in Trip Conklin's play, still sporting its purple, green and orange paint job, came into sight....moved closer.... sank in altitude.... and made ready to land near them.
"What can this be about?" Porter wondered.
The two bow hunters were crossing a wide open stretch, where potentially tall grass, trampled and eaten all winter by deer and elk, had not yet gotten far with its annual comeback. As they rode, Alipang remarked, "I wish John Wisebadger could be with us this trip. Since he's been an Ombudsman, he just can't give time to the trail life the way he used to."
"That isn't the only change," replied Porter. "I heard from Gabe Ellison the other day, and he says that the Energy Department is already marking off where the new fence line will be, when they expand the Enclave to take in Yellowstone."
Alipang said in turn, "I can't complain about more employment coming onto the reservation; but I'm worried that some of our fellow exiles will make suicidal attempts to get out when the perimeter's being shifted."
"No doubt that's one reason why the triumvirate is edging us Grangers closer to having actual police authority: the hope that our friends will listen to us, and be talked out of making useless breaks for it."
"Speaking of escaping: though I'm glad to have you helping us in Wyoming Sector, didn't you only come away from South Dakota because there was a danger that Nash Dockerty's mob might be after you there? Now Dockerty's gone, you could go back where you were, couldn't you?"
Porter sighed. "Yes, I could. But then it would be Victoria Tabor who was after me."
"Tabor? That's the family that had the fire on their property, right? The pretended Ku Klux Quaker attack?"
"Yeah--the _Mormon_ family that had the fire, et cetera. Victoria's a nice young woman; but I simply _can't_ see marrying any woman who believes that the God of the Bible came from a previous God, who came from another previous God, who came from a still earlier God, who came from yet another God, in an infinite retrogression. That doctrine is head-on against the statements in Isaiah that there _can't_ be any additional Gods before or after the One we know. A lot of Mormons have rejected the polytheism by now, but the Tabor family hasn't. And if I _have_ to be an exile for my faith, I might as well be _staying_ in my faith. So while I'm in Wyoming, I don't have to see Victoria shooting sad, wounded expressions at me."
"Hmmm. You know how Huldah Spafford received Jesus. If Miss Tabor also became a Biblical Christian, _then_ would you be interested?"
"Possibly, though I'm a bit old for her. But I can't do anything about it except pray for her. Even with the Overseers removed from the Enclave, I could still get jumped for 'hate speech' if I'm known to have told the Tabors they're in error."
"But Henry shared _his_ faith with the Rosenbaums, and didn't get in any trouble for it."
"That's because the Rosenbaums _consented_ to his sharing. I already know that the Tabors _won't_ listen to anything that contradicts Doctrines and Covenants."
Alipang told him, "Then if Miss Victoria stays polytheistic, you're just going to have to find a woman who's Biblically orthodox. We do happen to have some of those in Wyoming Sector."
The conversation, like the Grange horses, rambled onward. Half an hour later, the dirigible which had been used in Trip Conklin's play, still sporting its purple, green and orange paint job, came into sight....moved closer.... sank in altitude.... and made ready to land near them.
"What can this be about?" Porter wondered.
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