The First Love Of Alipang Havens

As if summoned by Alipang's having spoken about him, out of the dirigible hopped John Wisebadger, who immediately cracked a joke: "This freight shipment is being delivered by Air-Rapahoe!"

Alipang gave that one a chuckle, then asked, "What freight?" Porter added the corollary: "And for whom?"

"Have a look inside," the Agriculture Ombudsman told them. "As for who's the recipient, this is--rather, THEY ARE--for Henry Spafford and his now-enlarged family."

The two patrol riders dismounted, and Alipang held both horses to let Porter have the first look. A moment after the older man disappeared inside, Alipang could hear him exclaiming, "It's full of sheep in here!"

Another voice, recognizable as Gabe Ellison, responded laughingly, "I resent THA-A-A-A-A-AT!"

Next, Cassie the airship flier could be heard saying, "These are unclaimed sheep, a ram and six ewes, rounded up and tranquilized in Yellowstone while that area was being surveyed to choose geothermal-plant locations. The Agriculture Consultant heard about it, and had the inspiration to ask that they be given to Henry Spafford instead of to some tourists' animal-viewing park. A sort of stimulus grant for exile industry. I was tagged to pick the animals up on the outside, of course with help from workers there in the onloading; then I had Citizens Wisebadger and Ellison meet me just inside the fence, to help deliver them."

Porter thanked her for the explanation. A moment later, he and Gabe were both emerging from the airship. Alipang took his turn going inside the gondola and seeing the tranquilized animals, then remarked, "Yeah, I've heard that some farm animals here and there escaped the great kill-off when the Party imposed its forced veganism. But sheep? How did these live so long with no one taking care of them?"

Gabe, hearing the question, poked his head back inside and answered: "The reason why they could survive out THERE, was because the predators that would have eaten them were brought in HERE, to devour US instead."

"Oh.... right."

"All interesting enough," said Porter to John; "but why have the pilot touch down short of your destination, just to let us see the sheep?"

"It's because, as Agriculture Ombudsman, I'm requesting that you turn your horses around and go to the Spafford place also. Henry and his new father-in-law will be grateful to be able to restart the Rosenbaum sheep-herding business; but with new hoofstock provided to them sooner than they expected, it'll take them some time to get things organized. Gabe and I will both have to return to where we were when Cassie picked us up; I'm asking you men to lend Henry a hand building a sheep pen, and to help guard against predators while the sheep are still without a shelter."

Alipang thanked Cassie for being part of improving Henry's ability to support a family, then rejoined the other men alongside the horses, telling them, "I hope Yitzhak Rosenbaum sees this as a providence from the God he used to hate."

"I expect he will," said Porter, who was aware by now of the Israeli expatriate's tragicomic feud with his Maker.

John spoke now in a lowered voice: "During the flight, Cassie told Gabe and me some of the scuttlebutt she heard from those workers on the outside. Their supervisor says that the enlarging of the Enclave perimeter is being accelerated--not only because of the importance of the geothermal project, but also because Washington wants to create room in a hurry for a LOT more permanent Enclave residents."

Alipang felt a sudden tension. "What, are the authorities making more arrests on the OUTSIDE at the very same time as they're making things easier for US?"

"Not new arrests, or not predominantly new arrests," Gabe clarified. "It's a matter of moving an existing prison population into OUR prison."

"It's what we've suspected," said John to Alipang. "The Rainbow House has admitted to having operated standard concentration camps, besides our own very lenient gulag here. But for whatever reason, these camps are now to be shut down, and all prisoners from them who are not simply set free, will be brought in here."

"But what KIND of prisoners are they?" demanded Porter.

"Good scragging question," growled Alipang. "Some of us have talked before about the fact that our Enclave population includes a very high proportion of skilled professionals; we figured that if there were Fairness Party concentration camps, those would be used largely for prisoners without such valuable talents to offer. But I can't help thinking about what the Soviet Union did at one period in its history..."

John finished the thought for him: "They released a number of TRUE criminals who had been in the gulags, and then failed to protect honest citizens from the new crime wave those men created."

Gabe turned to John. "Do you think that's what's coming here? Genuine criminals instead of our fellow Christians?"

"They wouldn't send NOTHING BUT the scum of the earth, because that wouldn't help them to advance the energy-production potential of Yellowstone. But the influx may well INCLUDE criminal predators."

Alipang snapped his fingers--although this made almost no sound when wearing gloves. "Predators! Exactly! They dumped the grizzlies and so forth on us, but allowed us to have means of defending ourselves. And since the Overseers were put down, we Grange riders have been elevated in status, with at least the suggestion that we could wield police powers under Forest Ranger supervision. THAT means we'll have some ability to defend ourselves from HUMAN predators..." He fell silent, absorbing the impact of the conclusion his own thoughts were leading to.

"Gladiators," John murmured almost inaudibly. Gabe and Porter heard him, and stared at him.

Alipang resumed: "Yes. They already HAVE satellites and other surveillance assets watching us in here. They can see, and often hear, what goes on when we conduct our hunts for dangerous carnivores.... Of course, that's it! Maybe it wouldn't go to the general public, but the oligarchs would watch... We're an action movie! Trip Conklin did a stage play in here, and now Chilena's working on a fictional movie in here, but at the same time there's a reality show--US, providing THEM with drama by the very act of living our lives. Entertainment at literally NO extra cost, since they would want to monitor us in any case."

Porter's jaw sagged, then rallied to utter words: "Like that old movie, The Truman Show."

"But only for the top elites. Remember that when Henry was missing in November, even the Energy and Agriculture Undersecretaries couldn't automatically get access to surveillance records that would have let us find him sooner than we did. Maybe the top echelon considered those relatively decent women to be PART OF their entertainment, and thus wanted to watch them going through the search with the rest of us."

The four men had not noticed the middle-aged woman getting out of her dirigible to listen to them; but now Cassie offered a remark of her own: "Come on, you fellows can't think that this whole reservation was mapped out only to be some kind of arena! Not when you exiles are doing so much to keep the nation functioning."

"You're right, Cassie: it wouldn't be the ONLY reason for the Enclave to exist. Using us as entertainment probably only occurred to someone after we were confined; but they would be pleased to get that extra use out of us. By the same token, this closing of concentration camps can't be happening ONLY as a pretext to import vicious criminals into the Enclave, so that we'll provide more thrills as we defend ourselves; but once the rulers were in some way prompted to close the camps, I bet someone said, 'Hey, I've got a better idea than transferring the hardened criminals to Self-Esteem Centers!' Just you watch, guys: after we finish helping Henry with the sheep, I'm going to talk to Lyra Bender about obtaining approval to teach martial arts officially to Grange volunteers, to improve our ability to handle HUMAN predators. And I predict that it will be APPROVED all the way up the chain, because it'll mean more action to amuse the rulers!"

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

Thousands of kilometers away, Vice-President Carlos Anselmo, seated in front of a television screen whose view was two-dimensional but otherwise excellent, turned to speak to his latest girlfriend: "THERE! Did you follow that? I told you, Havens is a really sharp thinker! If he would only ditch that religion and join the Party, he could rise to the top!"

The young woman nodded. "Since you don't have the resources to track EVERY internal exile EVERY minute, of course you want to stay with the really interesting ones. And even if he doesn't evolve into the collective, he's already been helpful in getting rid of Sherman Lake, right? So he could have other uses as well."
 
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Dynamo Earthquake's tactic of sharing streamcast time with younger newswomen, while putting her own focus on high-visibility interviews, was continuing to work out well for her. It had allowed her to speak with several more non-exiled Christians in various districts, privately increasing her understanding of God. She had not gone to see Summer Rand again, or anyone connected with Summer like the Desmond family, lest she bring unfriendly attention upon those Biblicals. They deserved better than to be singled out for new harassment by the Pinkshirts.

By the same token, once inside the Enclave again, Dynamo did not immediately seek another meeting with Alipang and Kimberly Havens. Rapid City and its environs afforded her some logical interviews, with persons who had filled the official vacuum after Nash Dockerty's death. The first of these was with the Distribution Undersecretary who had become the third triumvirate member; this woman told Dynamo (or Denise) that she had lately appointed exile Ombudsmen as Energy and Agriculture had done. The Distribution Ombudsman for Wyoming Sector was Dalbir Pitafi, whose husband Sarbar would continue to manage the Federal Merchandise Center in Casper while Dalbir went here and there doing her new duties. The Undersecretary unabashedly, even callously, told her interviewer that she was positively hoping this _would_ result in Dalbir having affairs with other men, "as a way of nudging more exiles to evolve beyond all their narrow tribal paradigms of patriarchal domesticity."

Dynamo carefully avoided saying anything from her side which _approved_ of the Undersecretary's wishes; but she was going to have to let that part stay in the streamcast. It would be noticed if she edited it out.

When the burly actress Pulverizer Clarendon completed her scenes for Isadora Cruller's movie, she had to pass through Rapid City to catch a plane out; she was due to meet again with Jessamina Pinder to discuss her prospective leading role in the planned ultra-revisionist adaptation of Romeo and Juliet. Thus Dynamo found a handy opportunity to interview Pulverizer as well. The actress was one of the few females Dynamo had ever interviewed who had more muscle bulk than Dynamo had; but the veteran journalist could sense that Pulverizer did not have any such wholehearted animosity toward males as most of the beefed-up women had these days. (Dynamo already knew about the younger woman's somatic improvements, and knew that the Party _wouldn't_ give the costly strength-boosting procedures to any woman who was known to hold retrogressive opinions about male-female relationships; but Pulverizer at least did not _hate_ men.)

The official interview was all about Ms. Clarendon's qualifications to play the new Juliet, qualifications like how much weight she could bench-press; and about how daring and innovative it was to trash another of William Shakespeare's plays. They were easily able to pad the conversation with enough rah-rah talk in praise of the Party, that the finished interview would be divided into segments to be shown on two successive days. And even then--thanks to a delay in Pulverizer's flight on the national airline Atmosfleet--the two women were able to talk further, off the record.

Now Dynamo asked Pulverizer if she had met Alipang Havens. The reply was: "I remember who he is; I saw it when you interviewed him and his partner last summer, and I know about the incident when he saved the Ford boy. But no, I didn't get to meet him. On the other hand, I did meet his brother Terrance."

"Really? How so?"

"He was recruited for some of the action scenes; did very well, for someone with no acting experience. And a _particularly_ interesting thing..." The massive actress trailed off pensively.

"What interesting thing?"

"His attitude. When I was introduced to him, I decided to check out his agility, his ability to take rough stuff. When I slammed him around, he showed that he had some skill; he controlled every fall he took and avoided getting hurt. But as I say, it was really his _attitude_ I noticed. He apparently _didn't_ resent my being stronger than he was; he took it in stride, made no attempt to salvage his pride with talk about having 'only LET me do that.' He was perfectly polite while working with me, but he didn't go the _other_ way either, that is he didn't grovel to me. These exiles really do seem to have something that gives them an inner peace in all circumstances."

Dynamo kept her face expressionless while simply saying, "Yes, they do have something."
 
Chapter 93: The Return of Denise Heathcock

Since her husband John was keeping busy, and their children were grown and outside the fence, Lynne Wisebadger--who had by this time acquired some proficiency with a crossbow--had invited herself on a Grange patrol with female volunteers Ruby Vincent and Ladira Garvey. These younger women, also armed with crossbows, had Lynne and her mare Hashbrown under their wings, riding across a stretch of open country less likely to feature bears than coyotes. This morning at first light, the fourth morning of the expedition, they had actually bagged a coyote near a Cheyenne family's farm; Lynne's main contribution to this kill had been spotting the animal in the first place, using the non-electronic binoculars John had obtained for her.

The farming family which benefitted by this act of pest control asked them to stay for breakfast. The three women did so, as a son of their host and hostess unsaddled and rubbed down their mounts. When they left this farm later, they were carrying two letters from the family, addressed to friends in North Dakota Sector.

An hour and two more mail pickups later, Lynne, Ruby and Ladira saw a motorcycle bumping along toward them over the terrain. It was one of the silent electric motorcycles formerly used by the Overseers, with the particle beam removed. The woman riding it was not familiar to any of the three horsewomen, even when looking through Lynne's field glasses; nor was she wearing any sort of uniform, not even a pink shirt or jacket.

One piece of gear which had not been stripped from the motorcycle was its loudspeaker. Sooner than her unaided voice would have been distinguishable, the motorcyclist called out: "Hello, Grange volunteers! I have a small favor to ask! One of you is the domestic partner of the Wyoming Agriculture Ombudsman, right?"

Lynne allowed her to come closer before telling her, "I am MAR-RIED to John Wisebadger, yes. What can we do for you?"

"My name's Ernestine Clawson; I work for the Distribution Undersecretary." Ernestine Clawson left out the fact that she had only been working for the Distribution Department since the Campaign Against Hate had lost its triumvirate seat; prior to this, she had been a Pinkshirt since the Enclave had first been formed. "I just need to ride alongside you for the next quarter hour; the direction doesn't matter, go on whatever trail you would have gone anyway."

"Sounds pretty painless," remarked Ladira. "May we ask why?"

"You citizens know about the movie production in progress, don't you? Sectors of the Heart?"

"We know about it thanks to Lynne," said Ruby. "She and her husband are friends with the exile relatives of Chilena Salisbury, the star of the movie. So is this about that? Is there a camera crew nearby, needing to shoot a scene that calls for a motorcycle to be accompanying three horses?"

"You're close. A camera is nearby, but the scene to be shot here is for a _later_ movie." Ernestine had no reason to falsify the nature of the cinematic project she was assisting; but she was fudging the technicalities of the filming. The camera that would be shooting, was mounted on a Chinese spy satellite in space. This satellite would shortly be at a part of its orbit where it could see the four women, and close enough to the Wyoming horizon that the zoomed-in image of the women would not _seem_ to be shot from high in the sky. The Chinese had given permission for some footprint time on this satellite to be used in this way, free of charge, thus not diverting Isadora Cruller's camera crews; for Beijing approved of the new exile-friendly trend in American movies.

Lynne raised her eyebrows. "What, are they already starting another movie before the first one's wrapped?"

"Only long-range outdoor shots, views that could be used for any of a dozen plotlines. The sequence of my riding with you, for instance, could be intercut with later closeup shots of an actress on a cycle, dressed the same as I am now, and other actresses seated on swaying mockups of these horses; and for whatever dialogue was written for the scene, the voices would be dubbed over in the far-away footage made here today. That makes the four of us here stunt doubles, without having to dodge any explosions."

"Is a new script already written? A sequel to what's being made now?"

"Citizen, the answer to both questions is that I don't know yet. No one knows yet. This outdoor sequence, and others like it that will be shot, could equally be used in a sequel to Sectors of the Heart, or in an unrelated movie which only had a small part of its action set inside the Enclave. But please, could we start moving along? I don't want the-- the camera crew to lose time."

"No problem," Ladira told her. "Only, to get the right view, do you want to drive on the right or left side from us?"

Making sure she did not mix up which direction the satellite was watching from, Ernestine replied, "I'll go on the right, unless you move due west." Soon the little caravan was in motion; they travelled together for almost fourteen minutes before Ms. Clawson took her leave.

Afterward, Lynne, Ruby and Ladira agreed they had no reason to suppose that the claim of shooting a movie scene was untrue. More or less shrugging off the incident, they ventured to hope that it was merely one more sign of the friendlier interest now accorded to internal exiles.

 
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Around this time, Dynamo Earthquake requested, and obtained, a meeting with the Enclave's all-woman triumvirate. An additional woman was included: Oneness Chaplain Martina Caldwell, from the Rocky Mountain District's federal-police detachment whose main duties were to be in North Dakota Sector and the northern edge of South Dakota Sector. Just one male was included: Fidel North, supervisor of the token Pinkshirt squad in Rapid City. Dynamo wouldn't have felt right without him there, since the Indoctrination Department was her department.

As first among equals in the triumvirate, the Energy Undersecretary called the meeting to order: "Colleagues; Chaplain Caldwell; Supervisor North-- welcome, thank you for being here. Citizen Earthquake has what she feels is a feasible idea for an undertaking which, all at the same time, will show friendly attention to the exiles as a positive reinforcement for their obedience; give us more access to their minds with a proper collectivized understanding of things; and distract them a bit from reading books so much. Citizen Earthquake, please proceed."

"Thank you, Undersecretary." Dynamo turned toward the middle-management Pinkshirt. "Fidel, tell me if I'm right to say this. Exiles are allowed to have television sets which work only for playing antique analog-signal videotapes as entertainment; meanwhile, government and Party personnel inside the Enclave have the use of a closed fiber-optic televsion network. Some government properties in the four sectors have small auditoriums with projection TV screens, tied into the fiber-optic lines, allowing groups of non-exiles to watch Collective Network and Oneness Channel programming."

"That's correct, Citizen Earthquake. We don't want to deny the enjoyment of TV to our own people; and we want even the exiles to retain some appreciation for electronic media, so that if any of them ever grow enlightened enough to be released from the Enclave, it will be that much easier to fit them back into citizen routines."

"Very good. Now, friends, do all of you remember public-access cable channels?"

"I remember them," Chaplain Caldwell offered. "I used to broadcast short meditations on a public-access channel up in Minnesota."

Dynamo smiled. "I was hoping you would mention that. I did a little research on you, and found out about your devotional series. How would you like to be part of something like that IN HERE?"

Martina Caldwell did not find words to reply immediately. She was remembering, with NO pride in remembering, the way she had managed almost never to mention God in her messages. Fidel North was the first to react:

"I take it this would be something for the benefit of Party members?"

Dynamo glanced at the Energy Undersecretary, then back at Fidel. "Not only for them. As Energy said a moment ago, this would be something FOR THE EXILES. We would create some kind of programming THEY could be allowed to watch. This could be done in scheduled sessions, free admission with first come, first seated, at those government auditoriums. In addition, we could cause analog videotapes to be made of the programs, which could be lent out to exiles in some kind of library arrangement."

"I take it," sneered the Distribution Undersecretary, "that the Chaplain's involvement means you envision some kind of RELIGIOUS subject matter?"

"Not any MORE religious, anyway, than the Biblical Granger who SAVED THE LIFE of an Energy employee last year," said Energy, in a tone of mild rebuke. Distribution fell silent, leaving it to Agriculture to pick up an inference :

"Citizen Earthquake, you spoke of PUBLIC-access programs. Does that mean that you propose letting exiles play a role in MAKING the programs?"

"Yes, I do. You already allow them to have a newspaper; why not a television channel?"

Fidel scowled. "We must NOT waver in our policy of keeping the God-fascists off the internet."

"And we won't. It will all be controlled. But if they have even a SMALL concession made to them in the form of letting them feel THEY are being heard, might they not in turn be more willing really to listen to US?" That was the sales pitch Dynamo was making; she had already made the concept known to her journalist-union leadership on the East Coast. But in her secret heart, her one and only reason for proposing this idea was in order that SHE could have officially-approved opportunities to hear EXILES talk about God.

"I think the proposal has merit," said Energy.

 
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Freya Vanaheim, the camerawoman who had caught the image of the Aztlano fighter-bombers entering the airspace of Great Plains Federal District, was with Dynamo in the Enclave. After the triumvirate meeting, the two media women caught a ride on one of the handful of small passenger planes which constituted Enclave Air Transit, bound for Nebraska Sector to visit Earth's Treasures. Doing some digging in the exile database while Dynamo had been promoting her "public-access" concept with the bureaucrats, Freya had ascertained that a former cult leader, someone to whom Neutron Invincible had once given airtime on "The Glance" before he was exiled, was now an employee of the recycling center.

Dynamo knew, as soon as she looked at a bio-file on the center's director, that Winnie Drucker would not take kindly to being left out of the excitement. So the first thing Dynamo and Freya did upon being admitted to the premises was to let Ms. Drucker give them an on-camera tour of the plant, with Ms. Drucker being left free to boast at length about how much of all they were seeing was her own idea. Having had her ego stroked, Ms. Drucker was then quite amenable to letting Frodo Von Spock step off the sorting line to be interviewed by the famous journalist.

Frodo at first was conspicuously bland and cautious in his replies to Dynamo's questions--exactly as if he feared that some kind of entrapment was going on. So she told him about the proposal to produce a television talk-show for the exiles, trying to make him curious. It worked.

"That sure would liven things up for us!" the geeky man exclaimed. "In a society where nine-year-olds compose complex poetry and write papers about types of stars in the galaxy, you've got people of all ages _bursting_ to have a platform to _talk_ about things! Major self-esteem issue!"

"And, Citizen Von Spock, do you realize that _you_ would have access to that platform yourself? That it would not be _only_ Christians and Jews monopolizing the program? You would be able to add _your_ free-thinking insight to the universe of diversity!" Dynamo did not say that the Judeo-Christian viewpoint was what she herself wanted to hear. This interview would be seen by scores of authority figures, and could affect the acceptance of her proposal, so she had to stick with the diversity script.

Frodo, however, _didn't_ stick with that script.

"Pardon me, Citizen Earthquake, are you expecting me to talk the same line as I used to do on my commune, if I get to be on this new series? But everything I did in those days was only to get money, power and women for myself. I would choke on my own words now if I went _back_ to talking that way. Now I've got something ever so much better."

"And what would that be?" Dynamo asked.

"Why, knowing Jesus Christ as my Savior! What else is it that you have to be exiled to learn?"

Dynamo had to refrain from telling him that she was genuinely happy for him. What she said, still playing to the Fairness Party audience, was: "Listen carefully, Citizen Von Spock: if Biblicals living here in the Enclave have in any way threatened you in order to make you join their religion, you can be provided with protection. That kind of service is one reason why federal district police are now stationed inside the Enclave."

Frodo smiled and shook his head. "No one threatened me or coerced me; I became a believer because I became convinced that Jesus was real. If you put me on this new local-color show, it will be Jesus Whom I honor. Let me know if you're interested on those terms."

"We'll keep your name, Citizen Von Spock, and thank you for your time." Dynamo was going to have to think about whether her superiors would be annoyed by an interview that ended up advocating a move _away_ from paganism and _toward_ Christianity. Even though this was the direction Dynamo's own heart was currently taking.

Perhaps if she also interviewed other workers, Von Spock's conversion would not stand out enough to set off alarms.

 
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Many more of the recycling-center employees were interviewed; but Dynamo purposely bypassed Harmony Havens. This, because she would soon enough be interviewing Harmony's Caucasian sister, and she didn't want her bosses to think she was obsessed with this particular family. She did manage to locate three agnostic political dissenters in the plant and interview them.

When Dynamo and Freya made it to Casper, there was plenty of independent work for the camerawoman to do. Various supporting actors in Sectors of the Heart were at outdoor locations just outside the city, with all the movie cameras now busy shooting them. Some were acting out farming scenes (for which several exiles had been hired as technical advisors); others were simulating an outdoor prayer meeting which was actually portrayed _sympathetically_ in the script, though the dialogue as written resolutely avoided any mention of Jesus Christ; and still others, mingled with exiles as one-scene extras, were acting out fleeing for their lives from the mercenary gunmen of DeathstructionCorp. Terrance Havens had even been given further screen time to be in that last sequence, pretending to fire his prop gun directly at cute little children.

Freya's footage of the actors and crews at work on this day would be used on streamcasts after the movie was released, and could be given any voice-over that seemed good at that time. Dynamo, meanwhile, seized the golden chance to meet with Chilena Salisbury in Casper while Chilena and her husband were enjoying a day off. Dan took charge of Cecilia the Younger, Tommy and Irene when Dynamo approached Chilena in the nearest park to the Eric Havens house; Dan did not need to be told that Ms. Earthquake would always rather interview a woman than a man, all other things being equal. Yet what the star reporter wanted to talk with Chilena _about_ was to be a surprise to Dan when he heard about it afterwards.

Sitting on a park bench with the leading lady of the groundbreaking movie, Dynamo began thus: "Citizen Salisbury, in a little while I'll ask to do a bit of interviewing, videocording you with my nano-implants. Fragments of you talking, really, which the network will be able to insert in all sorts of places during coverage of your movie project. Later, Freya will be back to shoot a conventional interview in which you and I are both visible. But before I do _even_ the fragments, I want to-- rather, say that I'm _requesting_ you to talk with me off the record, without my implants running. And as we talk, remember that hate-speech regulations are significantly relaxed inside the Enclave."

Chilena stared intently at the older and larger woman. "Am I to suppose that you want me to make use of Enclave conditions to speak about my Christian faith?"

"Well, yes, if you would. Do you remember how I interviewed your friend Summer Rand, after that girl Reagan Desmond received special help from the Health Rationing Agency?"

Chilena guardedly replied, "I remember you interviewing Summer."

Dynamo took a deep diaphragm breath. "What would you say if I told you that I now believe Reagan Desmond was _supernaturally_ healed, and the government personnel who were at the Georgetown Oneness Temple that night contributed _nothing_ to her survival and recovery?"

"I would say that I bet you've done a lot of soul-searching since that night."

"So I have; and I was _prodded_ into it by Someone." Dynamo's tone and facial expression gave that "Someone" a capital S. "Before I ever met Summer, I saw her in a dream, unmistakably her, complete with the injured hand. In the dream, she was _praying_ for me; so were some other people, but up to now I still haven't met those others. Anyway, the dream led me to expect that the woman with the missing fingers had something important to tell me. And sure enough, she spoke to me about really _living_ a faith in the Universal Spirit. Excuse me, I need to get used to saying 'God'...maybe even saying the specific name of Jesus Christ."

"So do you have questions?"

"I do; and with your movie-star status, on top of the fact of being in the Enclave at present, you are much less likely to be harassed if you give me answers, than Summer might be if I put her on the spot by paying her a repeat visit."

"Well reasoned. What do you want to ask me?"

Dynamo reflexively glanced around, then reminded herself that on one hand there was probably a satellite imaging her and Chilena right now, but on the other hand there actually _was_ more freedom of speech inside the fence. "I can raise plenty of questions! But first of all is this: how does just plain _believing_ a certain fact-claim cause God not to be angry at you anymore?"

 
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Chilena gathered herself for the witnessing just as Summer had done on that past occasion. "First, you need to understand that God _doesn't_ get angry in the sense of a petulant fit of temper. Instead, He feels a justified and appropriate indignation against things being out of order, against His good plans being disobeyed. When you ordered those nano-video implants you told me you have, and they were installed in your own living flesh, if they _hadn't_ worked as promised, wouldn't you have been annoyed at Micronanoverse for not delivering what they were supposed to?" Micronanoverse was the government-owned corporation which manufactured the relatively small amount of nanotechnology that was made in the Diversity States.

"You're right, I would."

"Then in such a case, would you have allowed Micronanoverse to deflect your justified criticism by saying you were just prejudiced and bigoted against media-product manufacturers?"

"No, I wouldn't."

"Glad you're with me so far. Now, in the Book of Isaiah, God says metaphorically that He planted a vineyard in Israel; that He expected it to yield edible farm-strain grapes, that it _should_ have yielded those; but instead, it yielded sour, worthless little wild grapes. This parable shows God's _reason_ for indignation: people not _being_what they ought to be."

Dynamo frowned, in thought rather than anger. "But if He's all-powerful, why didn't He just _make_ the people do what he wanted?"

"Ciizen Earthquake, I happen to know that you have spoken the phrase 'freedom of choice' not less than five hundred times in your journalism career. Can it be so strange to you that God might _give_ humans genuine freedom of choice, a _real_ ability to go one way or another way?"

"Okay, you're right, I get it. But where does the belief come in?"

"Thoughts produce actions, therefore _beliefs_ produce actions. Active evil persists in the world _because_ wrong mental attitudes persist. Again, this can't be too strange to an employee of the Department of Indoctrination, a department which polices mental attitudes. God is also concerned about inner attitudes."

"And believing in Jesus does what?"

"It sort of lines you up with reality. Since humanity HAS gone wrong, and since Jesus DID intervene on Earth to provide a cure for the wrongness, believing in Him IS a way of acknowledging the facts of the universe, instead of making up fantasies which don't teach any lessons worth learning. And agreeing with true facts is part of yielding good grapes instead of sour ones..."

Chilena continued explaining aspects of the gospel of salvation to Dynamo for almost half an hour. Preoccupied with the questions and answers, neither woman's mind registered the fact that a young man walked up near them and listened in. He was none other than Daffodil Ford.

At this moment, the boy's three subordinates--Moonrose, Bailey, and Daffodil's mother Samantha--were out at the filming locations, talking to exiles who had walk-ons in the movie, trying to convince them that being in a movie was a far greater thrill than merely knowing God and having a promise of eternal life. Daffodil had by now justified his presence in town by visiting the De Sotos and writing an impromptu article for the Wyoming Observer; this done, he had gone looking for any relatives of Alipang Havens, and had had the luck to discover Chilena with Dynamo.

The boy heard much of the conversation, including things Chilena said about submitting to God's authority as Creator, instead of boasting that one could make up one's own reality. This evoked a sudden declaration from Dynamo:

"Chilena, I think I must have been fated to hear these things you're telling me. There's an idea I had since that special dream, and you've reinforced it."

Forgetting his long-instilled deference to women, Daffodil blurted out, "Reinforced what?" Then he was embarrassed as both women looked at him with surprise. But Dynamo, a showperson after her fashion, took the interruption smoothly, answering him:

"The name I use is made up. I made it up, just to sound impressive. But my name from birth was Denise Heathcock. I was considering dropping 'Dynamo Earthquake,' and using my birth name. Now, I _will_ do it."

"That sounds like suitable symbolism," Chilena told her. "Like admitting that you are not self-created, that no human is. Welcome back to the world, Miss Heathcock."

"I hope this enhances your self-esteem," Daffodil said, merely because this was the sort of shallow fluff he had been taught to say at the Boston Tolerance House.

"Thank you," Denise Heathcock replied, looking at Daffodil again. She had not yet come far enough along to address the question of whether Daffodil might be allowed to change _his_ given name to something less effeminate. It was something else which abruptly caused her to peer more closely at the boy's features, and then to say, "Citizen Ford! Am I correct in remembering that your male chromosome source is not a person of available record?"

"That's correct, Citizen Earth-- I mean, Citizen Heathcock."

Denise's mouth unconsciously sagged open. "Well, flog me if you're not...that is... This is remarkable. Your face and hair--you look like the fair-haired man I saw in my dream! Well, he was plainly forty years old or so, or older if I was seeing someone with telomere preservation; but you look like he might have looked as a teenager."

Daffodil's face registered a slightly slow realization of the import of this. Then he asked her, "If you saw a man in a dream who looked like me, but older... DID YOU HEAR A NAME FOR THAT MAN?"

"Sorry, no; not a birth name OR a custom-made name."

 
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Copperfox said:
At this moment, the boy's three subordinates--Moonrose, Bailey, and Daffodil's mother Samantha--were out at the filming locations, talking to exiles who had walk-ons in the movie, trying to convince them that being in a movie was a far greater thrill than merely knowing God and having a promise of eternal life.
Click to expand...

Yeah, right. Good luck with that.:rolleyes:
 
It's high time (once I can write more of this ever-growing story) for me to take the narrative back outside the fence, into the wide world. Therefore, here is a reminder of who the global players are in my imagined future:

China is the leading superpower, and has taken Vietnam, Taiwan, Burma and other Asian countries under its control. There are several things preventing China from trying to conquer the rest of the world: (1) It already has enough land, wealth and armaments to get by just fine. (2) Liberal tendencies, in a good sense of the term, are growing in China. (3) India is strong enough to hurt China plenty in case of war; and the Pacific Federation, led by Japan and Australia, has the capability (with advanced rail guns) to shoot down Chinese spaceships on takeoff if push came to shove. (4) China is the only nation colonizing the Moon so far, and does not want anything disrupting this achievement.

Aztlan is quite weak, but profits by dealing with terrorists and gangsters. This includes indulging them with the most depraved forms of "tourism." Right now, Chinese Triad gangsters are increasingly threatened by Chinese law enforcement, and are trying to make Aztlan into a defensible refuge for themselves: this, in part, by way of swiping the Pacific Federation's high-quality defensive-weaponry designs to be copied in Aztlan. The President of Aztlan, and his son, are operating almost independently of each other, pursuing different plans for strengthening their nation's position.

Most of Central and South America is aligned with one of two alliances: that of Mexico (basically good), and that of Venezuela (bad). The Venezuelan Alliance is friendly with Aztlan, and with all four of the Islamist Caliphates. The Mexican Alliance has long been helping the Texas Rangers to defend against Aztlan; President Andreas Garcia of Mexico feels he owes this to the Yanquis, after his own country had facilitated the dumping of all Mexican lowlifes in Aztlan, which had profoundly improved Mexican society.

The Islamist Caliphates rule nearly all of Europe west of Russia, plus most of Northern Africa and a good chunk of Asia. They all want to dominate each other. Besides the rivalry which keeps them separate, the only thing deterring the Caliphates from resuming open jihad against the remaining non-Muslim nations is the realization that China and India would combine as one to stop them.

The African Union, controlling about three quarters of its continent, is in pretty good shape. African nations including Nigeria and Uganda have benefitted greatly from the immigration of talented, educated persons fleeing from one or another of the current forms of tyranny. Many Africans are participants in what my narrative calls "the secret army of freedom." When the Catholic Church was forced at gunpoint to remove itself from Europe, the Pope and his entourage found a safe harbor in Nigeria.

The Pacific Federation cannot do more than fight defensively in any major conventional war against any major power, but on defense it is an antagonist not to be taken lightly. This Federation relies heavily on diplomacy and covert operations; it also supports the secret army. Many Americans moved to Australia when the Diversity States was created, and the Pacific Federation would like to see America regain at least part of what it lost.
 
Chapter 94: The Mess on the Moon


The Beijing Spaceways flight was now less than two hours away from landing on the spacecraft pad at the Lunar Orchard. For Luminessa Tigobo and Faye Miller, who were sorely missing the days when they could shoot people who annoyed them, the landing couldn't come too soon. Then the other six genetic-diversity women riding the ship with them would have _other_ people to talk to.

These other women were the Muslim volunteers about whom Felipe Contreras had told the two American women. While China had intended to accept women only from the European and Egyptian Caliphates, the other two Caliphates had been so upset about losing prestige that China had allowed them to beg and bargain their way into being included. The Babylonian and Central Asian Caliphates, however, had been allowed to send only one young woman each.

Rafif, the girl from the Central Asian Caliphate, was currently bending the ears of both American women; she was on her fourth or fifth time of telling them: "The Saudis really ought to be placing themselves under _our_ Caliph's authority. It is _our_ people who have the most to offer culturally; it was we who had contacts with Persia, India and China all at once"-- and so on.

The other contest winners-- Paquette and Fatima from the Islamic Realm of Europe (Paquette being the only one of the Muslim girls with European blood, but as much a convinced Muslim as the rest of them), Adeela and Khadijah from the Egyptian Caliphate, and Lalumei from the Babylonian Caliphate --had spent the whole space voyage competing to gain allies. Although they realized that there was practically no chance of converting everyone in the Moon colony to Islam, each was hoping at least to convince others that, _within_ the Muslim segment of the human race, it was her own home Caliphate that deserved to be in charge of the faith.

Saudi Arabia, birthplace of Islam, had so far managed somehow to remain independent of all four of its would-be owners. Faye and Luminessa heartily wished success to the Saudis in that.

So did Professor Chun, the man who had met all eight female recruits on board the Orbital Palace and become their guide to outer space. This trip had been his first time getting back even _close_ to Earth since the colony's founding. Because the women assigned to him, Yael Meyerling and Lori Purdue, were both now expecting children by him, the leadership had agreed that it was a good time to give Chun a break from being on the Moon. And he had been the _first_ target for Fatima, Paquette, Khadijah, Adeela, Lalumei and Rafif, in their efforts to persuade someone to agree with them about who deserved to lead all Muslims. Only after he ordered them to quit haranguing him had they shifted their attentions to Faye and Luminessa. They hadn't bothered with the spaceship crew, men who they understood would not be staying on the Moon.

"Ladies," the Chinese scientist now announced, "I am advised that, at the time of our landing, the Lunar Orchard will be in the middle of live conferences with scientists back in China. This activity will have our communications channels tied up until about an hour after you will complete your in-processing. You have been allowed only voice contact with your families on this flight; but once you're settled in your temporary quarters, you will each be allowed to send a ninety-second video message, telling your families your first impressions of the Lunar Orchard. For eight or nine days after that, you will be too busy getting oriented to do any more talking with Earth; so in the interval after landing, make sure you give careful thought to what you plan to say in your first message from your new home."

After making moonfall would have been soon enough to have told them this; but Professor Chun was in a mood now to do _anything_ short of homicide that would interrupt the bickering and jockeying among Paquette, Fatima, Khadijah, Adeela, Lalumei and Rafif.

The two former Enclave Overseers mentally applauded him.

"I have the best headcloth to wear when I record my video message," Rafif declared. "The others are SO immodest with theirs; with Paquette's scarf, you can even see her ears!"

"But haven't all of you been given a dispensation by your imams to let your faces be seen among the colonists when you live on the Moon?" asked Luminessa.

"Of course we have, or we couldn't come here in conscience. But it's different when we call back to Earth. When our images appear on Earth, we must maintain proper modesty and purity."

Some purity, thought Faye, when they don't even know if they'll be required to have offspring with more than one man. Aloud she said, "You could arrange for your video to be seen only by your parents."

Rafif shook her head. "But the signal still must be _transmitted;_ therefore, it could be seen by some unauthorized male, and lead to his having impure thoughts."

Luminessa was losing patience. "Here's an idea: When you make your video, you stand _outside_ the camera's field of sight. Nail your headcloth, _just_ the cloth by itself, onto a wall, and point the camera at that. You do your talking from off-camera, so your message is heard, but all that _anyone_ sees is the headcloth which is your true identity."

Rafif changed seats in a huff; Professor Chun chuckled to himself; and Faye high-fived Luminessa.

 
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At the time the Aztec-Maoists had first claimed possession of California and the other five "reconquered" Southwestern states, a great many television sets had fallen into the hands of looters. In order that the acts of theft he himself had encouraged should not be for nothing, El Presidente had ordered that the new Libertad de Aztlan streamcasting network should always retain old-style air-broadcast television capability as well. Thus it was that Tonio Formentera was seen and heard by way of both older and newer technologies, when he gave a speech coinciding with the new delivery of women to the Chinese Moon colony. Even Apaches, Navajos and other indigenous peoples within Aztlan, who had yet to reconcile themselves to speaking only Spanish, were following his speech with the help of closed captioning on their screens.

"Hermanos y hermanas, I speak to you as your leader who has always fought for justice in the name of The Race." (Formentera did not mention, would never publicly mention, that his wife, the mother of his children, had been a Saudi Arab. Long before the United States fell, he had married Sadida as part of politically courting the Islamic terrorist networks who shared most of his hatreds. She had given him both pleasure and children; but he had eventually orchestrated a convincing fatal accident for her, with none of their sons or daughters knowing what had really happened, so that the ever-intensifying Hispanic-supremacist passion he was exploiting among Mexicans would not turn against him.)

"When Spain came to rule this land, it did not take the Spaniards long at all to adopt the wisdom of native peoples, the wisdom of the commune. There was no capitalistic aristocracy; everyone shared everything, and everyone prospered equally, with no one having to bow to anyone else." Of course there had really been social hierarchy in Spain's New World colonies; Formentera was lying about this with the smoothness of long practice. He had always admired white Marxists for their talent and brazenness in rewriting history, and he had assimilated all their techniques. The great key was to find out what the proletariat wanted to believe, and offer them that same narrative in a form that justified the policies of the rulers.

"So it was that The Race as we now know it came to be, already enjoying progressive diversity centuries ago. Then came the Anglos to poison and ruin this way of life; and anyone of any color who follows the Anglo ways, counts as an Anglo. They brought greed, they brought war, they brought the enslavement created by Christianity... and they brought the prejudice and hate which until then had been unheard of among people of The Race.

"Within your lifetimes, my friends, you have seen a partial compensation for Anglo injustice. In establishing this Aztec-Maoist People's Republic, we captured cities, highways, farmland, utilities, infrastructure, that all rightfully belonged to us. Thousands of educated persons not belonging to The Race, who gained their dishonest wealth by stealing from The Race, now repay us daily, as they are made to work for our collective, using their skills to provide YOU with your share of comfort and satisfaction." He did not mention the fact that under his regime, there was a vertical gap in wealth and other elements of earthly happiness between rulers and subjects, more complete and profound than any social inequalities that had existed anywhere in the United States in that nation's final sixty years.

"Now, however, we see the forces of capitalistic Anglo selfishness forging ahead once more. Even as I speak to you, a Chinese spacecraft is close to landing on the Moon. The Moon, where Hispanic cosmonauts were the first humans ever to set foot, now has NOT EVEN ONE Hispanic resident. The Chinese created a Moon colony; we cannot begrudge them this achievement, since they did so much to right wrongs for us here in the Americas; but by some treacherous intrigue and manipulation, ANGLOS have contrived to benefit by it in a way that The Race has not so far benefitted." The tricky part of the scripted rant was coming now: Formentera must play on self-pitying resentment in his listeners, as he had always done, but without speaking ill of the Chinese themselves. He didn't care to bite the hand that fed him--except of course, when it was the hand of the Diversity States.

"The Chinese wanted genetic diversity in the small population of the Lunar Orchard. Well and good. But the first two non-Chinese women they received into their colony, last year, were both white!--that is, if we count a JEWISH woman as white, which we may as well. So this time, we expected them to balance their selections. And what has happened this time? They have, to be sure, taken a larger number of women, with more diversity; but they STILL did not take even one woman of The Race, indeed none from ANY Spanish-speaking nation! Yet they did take two more women from the Diversity States! The Chinese, for their part, have been innocent of all racial injustice ever since their Great Helmsman liberated them in 1949; but the cunning Anglos of the D.S.A. have clearly exerted some corrupting influence on them.

"What, then, is to be our national response to seeing The Race insulted yet again? It shall not be a response of childish anger, but it shall be a response of energetic resolve. We shall, for the present, continue our existing policies of increasing our own prosperity and guarding against white-supremacist plots; but we shall also look ahead. With wisdom, sacrifice, and the collective spirit, one day we will create OUR OWN space colony!"

Tonio Formentera fervently hoped that he was doing this propaganda job effectively. He was making a pitch for a new national ambition, again based on the Aztlano people supposedly having been deprived of something they had a right to enjoy; but he was not calling for any animosity against China, nor suggesting that the Lunar Orchard was one of the things which The Race "had a right" to take over. Hopefully, therefore, no one would guess that Aztlan was in connivance with the scheme by the Chinese Triads to use Luminessa Tigobo and Faye Miller in a takeover of the Lunar Orchard.

Nor would they guess that, when large quantities of new aerospace hardware began showing up in Aztlan, this would really be more in connection with the Triad gangsters fortifying their North American refuge, than with a desire to explore and populate the cosmos.
 
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At the Lunar Orchard, all structures and spaces which had no definite need to be on the surface, were five or more meters beneath it. Why create the necessity to insulate against the temperature changes and hard radiation on the airless Moon, when the Moon's own natural rock could do the same job as long as basic airtight walls were layered into the tunnels and chambers?

Thus, when the Chinese ship landed, its airlock was mated to an elevator which would carry the disembarking passengers and their luggage directly to a reception point on the third underground level counting downward. So none of them got to see the Lunar landscape from a ground-level viewpoint, though they had seen plenty during the spaceship's descent. "In a few weeks," Professor Chun informed his flock, "you'll have the chance to go outside in environment suits. For now, adjusting to the Moon's gravity will demand much of your attention. You all doubtless notice already that it's far easier to lift your luggage straight up here than it would be on Earth; but remember that, as was the case on the space station, its _mass_ is unchanged, so that its momentum in _forward_ motion may surprise you."

In the chamber where they emerged from the elevator, three Chinese persons awaited them. The new arrivals had seen enough preparatory data to know who these were: leaders of the colony, peers to Professor Chun. The one woman was Doctor Hsing Ti-Lao, in charge of all health issues. The taller of the two men was Vice-Director Yap, and the shorter and older man was General Director Dong.

Luminessa had, before now, imagined basing disrespectful jokes on the names Dong and Yap. She would never speak them to anyone, however; she remembered the late Nash Dockerty's peevishness about his name, and she was not eager to be tossed out into vacuum. Faye, meanwhile, was observing the Muslim girls. The Babylonian and Central Asian girls, and one each of the Europeans and Egyptians, had their eyes fixed on the General Director, clearly intending to curry his favor, while the second girls from the two-person contingents were aiming tractor beams at the Vice-Director. Obviously the European and Egyptian duos had worked out their division of labor in advance.

But it was the female in the welcoming committee who spoke first. Not seeming the least bit jealous of the younger women, Dr. Hsing said in Chinese: "Fatima, Paquette, Adeela, Khadijah, Rafif, Lalumei, Faye and Luminessa-- welcome to the Moon! This world belongs to China, but now it also belongs to you. If you do your part here, you will be valued and esteemed equally with everyone else; Yael and Lori, whom you will soon meet, can attest to this. Now, am I correct that all of you, whether by knowledge-implant or conventional teaching, have an adequate grasp of Mandarin Chinese?"

Everyone replied in the affirmative. In the midst of this, Fatima suddenly began waving an urgent hand, until she had her opening to say, "Please, may I go to the bathroom?"

Rarely did anyone hear Dr. Hsing laugh, but she laughed now. "Yes, you may! It's that door over there; and we have enough gravity on the Moon that you'll find the procedure more Earth-like than the way you had to do it on the space flight."

Mr. Dong and Mr. Yap filled in time with lightweight words of welcome while Fatima was adding to the organic recycling reserves. Then, with everyone together again, Dr. Hsing declared, "Now for your first refreshment in the Lunar Orchard!" From a sort of cabinet, she brought out a tray with bottles of some beverage. "This will taste familiar to the Americans; it's almost identical to their Joy Nectar."

Seeing the physician hand out the drinks, Faye Miller felt certain that Dr. Hsing was making sure each person received a particular bottle intended for that particular person. But for herself, she did find the beverage to taste like Joy Nectar, and felt no unusual effects. She told herself to go with the flow of events, to keep her mind on learning what she was taught. No use worrying about everything.

"Now, ladies," Dr. Hsing announced, "the men will be leaving us for a little while, so that I can perform some bio-medical scanning on all of you. Please accompany me through this white door. Since you may not all be fluent yet in _written_ Chinese, I'll tell you that the sign says 'Medical Screening Room.' "
 
Glad to be shed of his travel-guide assignment, Professor Chun went one level higher, to the residential area, to see his concubine Lori Purdue--both because he was fond of her, and in order to divert her from wondering what her co-concubine Yael Meyerling was doing. It was a case of Lori not having need to know. Unlike the Israeli woman, Lori had never been a covert scientific consultant for the Mossad.

Yael was with Director Dong and Vice-Director Yap, in a small room equipped to monitor the large medical-screening room where Dr. Hsing and several sophisticated robots were at work. Dong was remarking to Yael, "If you had continued to conceal your past connection, and we had found it out by other means, we wouldn't have _terminated_ you; after all, brainwave scanning shows that you were not planning anything harmful to China's interests. But we would have been obliged to edit information about this colony out of your mind before sending you back to Earth. As it is, a few Israeli officials are going to receive at least a token scolding, but _you're_ still one of us."

Yap added, "I'm glad the Lunar Orchard won't be losing your talents and your good genes. I'm also glad for Chun's sake; did you know that he literally never had a woman of his own before he was matched up with you and Lori?"

"That was among the things I found out via open-source snooping," Yael confessed. "To this day, you Chinese still haven't completely rectified the female shortage in your population that you caused by your own one-child policy. That's why all the non-Chinese you're bringing to the Moon are women."

Neither man commented on this indisputable fact. Instead, the General Director asked, "Are you seeing anything of interest yet? You know you can interpret these displays more accurately than Yap or I can."

With her background in microbiology, the Israeli woman understood every step in Dr. Hsing's procedures. The medical chief had given each of the new women a drink tailored to that woman's own DNA, which was made possible by genetic information provided before the eight had ever been permitted to come to the Moon. In a sort of organic version of tomography, the formula would "paint" foreign cells in each woman's blood. Blood samples would enable direct nanoscopic scrutiny of any bacteria or viruses; in addition, right inside each woman's body, a combination of thermal and ultrasound imaging was already being helped by the telltale fluid to inspect everything that wasn't made from the subject's own genetic heredity.

Though this gear was taking no notice of the pearl rings worn by Luminessa Tigobo and Faye Miller.

After learning that women of the Caliphates would be coming from Earth, Yael had seen no choice but to break cover. She had to tell her superiors in the colony that, back before Israel had nearly perished and had needed China's help to go on existing, she had taken part in the analysis of a developing biological-warfare threat. Several terrorist organizations had begun pressuring their sponsor governments to revive the use of people as disease-bearing time bombs; and intercepted enemy communications at that time had revealed that any sort of space stations, enclosed environments, were considered by the fanatics as good potential targets.

Yael's disclosure had come soon enough to allow preparations. Chun, Hsing, Dong, Yap, and all Aerospace Force personnel with whom the Caliphate women would be in any contact, had been fortified with the latest disease-fighting nanobots in their bodies; and there was no way that the eight newcomers were going to get past medical screening without being checked virtually molecule by molecule.

Presently, suspicious micro-organisms began to stand out in the bodies of three women: Adeela and Khadijah from the Egyptian Caliphate, and Lalumei from the Babylonian Caliphate. "Adeela and Khadijah are carrying two different mutated viruses," Yael announced; "and Lalumei has an interesting new rickettsia pathogen. All of these disease agents are in a dormant state, implying that bio-attack would occur only under triggering conditions."

"Conditions like our failure to hand over ownership of this colony to the senders," Yap snorted.

"Most likely," agreed the microbiologist. "All of the remaining five women read clean."

"Good," said Dong. "Given the money it cost to bring them here, I would hate for ALL these women to prove unacceptable."

Yael tensed at the thought of three women being dumped out on the surface of the Moon as a cost-effective precaution. "Sir, you realize that the contaminated women might not even know they were deliberately infected. They may be innocent victims."

"They may," Dong conceded. He sounded as if innocence made no difference to him; nonetheless, his next words were: "Chairman Mao would have had them terminated without a second thought; but we have made _some_ progress in all these years. Lalumei, Khadijah and Adeela, plus any others who by any means are found out to be false, will be returned to Earth alive--but not to their home countries. Instead, they will be made to testify before the United Nations, the better to embarrass the governments that sent them. Assuming that the rest of the sending nations have not pulled any treachery, Beijing will want to show positive reinforcement to those nations."

"We'll know more after deep hypnotic probing," said Yap.

"Yes, and meanwhile the infiltrators will be allowed to send out their initial messages to their families before they realize they're to be isolated and returned to Earth, so that the conspirators will not know that we detected the threat until _after_ we've alerted our own authorities in Beijing."

This probing was to confirm that Adeela, Khadijah and Lalumei had undergone conditioning to remember their assignment only under well-defined circumstances; while Paquette, Fatima and Rafif had not undergone any technological or chemical tampering with their brains. The latter three, therefore, were to be welcomed into the growing Lunar society without further ado... though still watched closely, just in case.

As for Faye and Luminessa, nothing untoward had been found _inside_ their bodies; and their minds _appeared_ untampered with. For Cho Kwok-Shu and his Triad associates had access to nearly all scientific information possessed by Greater China; thus they knew the latest Chinese techniques for detecting mental conditioning, and the process used on the two American women had been designed to pass undetected.

So for now, the leadership of the Lunar Orchard felt as certain as the American women felt, that the American women had no plans for subterfuge.

 
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There was more than one way to be a nonconformist in a rigid social order. Decades before, Chinese idealists who really wanted justice and freedom had shown their nonconformity at Tienanmen Square. They had been crushed with armed force.

Then there was the rather less honorable nonconformity of the bribe-takers and pleasure-seekers. General Shuei of the Ministry of Internal Affairs fell into this category. More accurately, he had plunged into it on purpose, long ago. Shuei had himself been among the young soldiers who shot down young protestors at Tienanmen Square--not because he had any more altruistic attachment to Communism than he did to Western-style representative government. Rather, because he wanted to rise to the top, then reap the benefits. As things turned out, he had risen fast enough in service that it became possible for him to enjoy the rejuvenating effect of telomere preservation before he became terribly old.

For the better part of forty years since Tienanmen Square, kept sufficiently vigorous by elite life-extension, Shuei had grown steadily more corrupt--but was always cunning at hiding it, never letting himself be so greedy or overconfident as to give away the game. By now, he was one of China's seven highest-ranking officers in uniformed service to be in Triad pay. His narcissistic smugness over what he was getting away with, served as a warped substitute for honor, for a sense of noble purpose. He relished being in the know; for instance, although not playing a role personally in that particular transaction, he had been _aware_ of the influence-peddling which had enabled the Aztlanos to start arming their jets with guided missiles. Being part of a shadow government made him feel almost like a mythical god.

And how he had secretly, mentally ridiculed men like Yang Sung-Kuo: men who wanted to do the right thing, but who had no idea what was going on behind the scenes!

At least... Major Yang HAD BEEN unaware of what was going on. But completely unconnected with the exposure of Islamist attempts against the Moon colony, a studious, pedestrian analysis of diverse information had been in progress ever since the Zurich operation in which Nyunt Zeyar had been a participant. The guilt of all seven of those corrupted flag-rank officers had been proven... before any of those _culprits_ knew their peril. Some highly-placed sold-out figures in the Party and the civil government had been lucky enough to feel the wind changing and to flee from Greater China; but the most important military and paramilitary leaders to be bought by the Triad were about to pay for being bought.

On what seemed an ordinary day at his headquarters, General Shuei's first intimation that something was amiss took the form of his office door bursting free from its hinges, to fly inward and hit the edge of his desk. In the time it took the General to flinch from this, it became apparent that neither an explosive device nor a sonic weapon had broken in the door.

The right foot of a very cold-faced Major Yang had done it.

Shuei took in the fact that Yang was aiming a pistol at Shuei's head--and not a trank pistol, either. At the same time, the crooked General now could hear a commotion all through the offices around his: the kind of commotion that could arise if a large number of persons were being arrested without warning.

"Don't move, General," snapped Yang. "User-recognition inputs have been remotely cancelled for all firearms in this building, _except_ those wielded by my men and myself. The guilty have already been identified, and the innocent are now being safely separated and told what this is about. Of course, YOU know what it's about, you Triad flunky! In the name of the People's Republic of Greater China, I arrest you for high treason and other capital crimes."

Even now, brought from prosperity to disaster in a matter of seconds, General Shuei tried to salvage some fragment of his imagined superiority: "So it's taken you _this_ long to figure it out, Sung-Kuo? Some detective!"

"Thoroughness is better than speed, General; you taught me that yourself, when I was only a sergeant. I see now that there were other lessons you might have taught me, but I'm glad I _wasn't_ drawn into your corruption."

"Oh, yes, of course," Shuei sneered. "You have your _religion_ to boast about--your primitive substitute for talent and intelligence!"

"If I put a bullet through your head now, General, you'll find out one second later that my God _really_ exists, when you have to answer to Him for your crimes. But I don't want _anyone_ to be eternally lost who might be redeemed. Accordingly, I warn you: _don't_ try to grab that unauthorized micro-whip you keep in your desk drawer. That's right, I prepared for this arrest _very_ thoroughly. Place your hands on top of your head, and don't hum the notes that would activate your Triad-provided nanotechnic amnesia device. Yes, I know about that too; yours isn't meant to kill you the way that unfortunate Milagros woman was killed. If you try to activate it, I'll shoot you in the most painful place." Yang shoved the broken door to one side, never letting his gun stray from its aim. "Now, follow me _slowly_ out of this office, and turn right as you come out."

Less cocksure now that he realized how many of his secrets had been ferreted out, Shuei obeyed; but he _still_ retained a vestige of defiance. "It's easy for you to speak of redemption; but you know that now I'll face much worse things than being shot. If you feel Christian compassion for me, you _should_ kill me quickly."

"I would rather not kill you, because once you were my father's friend. And by having _some_ more time left in this life, you at least have _some_ chance of finding salvation."

Shuei, no longer a General, fell silent. He was not ready to entertain any thoughts of asking any God to forgive him. If at this moment he felt any kind of hope at all, it was an entirely secular, temporal hope--focussed on that power to which he had sold his soul. Shuei did not know Cho Kwok-Shu by name, nor did he know the significance of two individuals called Faye Miller and Luminessa Tigobo, nor did he know that there was a Triad plot to control China's Moon colony; but he knew that the gangsters were keeping _something_ big in reserve. And _surely_ they would use this secret weapon to force his release! After all, had he not always given them their money's worth? Surely they wouldn't abandon him to his fate--would they?

 
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