The First Love Of Alipang Havens

I'm looking forward to seeing just how much Juanita did rock the boat. Hopefully the kids won't forget what she said. Of course, seeing as how most of them have never heard anything like it before, it might be more likely to stick. Seeing her arrested, or the TV suddenly shut off, should help.
 
Back in Yellowstone Sector, in the afternoon of the same day, Alipang and Kim, the latter holding Baby Peggy, were getting their first look at anti-gravity in operation.

The Anti-Gravity Development Corporation of New Delhi, which had taken an interest in the geothermal project, had sent a technical crew to try out a new lifting device on the most active construction site. What Alipang and Kim saw before them, at a half-kilometer distance, was what looked like an oversized railroad flatcar, only self-propelled and with treads under it instead of wheels. And not resting on this car, but hovering _over_ it, was some kind of pillar or girder, intended to become part of the load-bearing structure in a new building whose foundation was just lately been laid.

Alipang and Kim understood the basics of anti-gravity; but America's decline in technological ambition, dating back well before the Fairness Revolution, had meant they never got to witness any practical application of it. Now that they _were_ seeing this piece of the future, they fortuitously had the benefit of someone standing near who could explain it to them: the Undersecretary of Sustainable Energy. She was not supervising the Indians -- they knew their own business, and were working closely with the American construction engineers; but she was present as a gesture of appreciation for an industrially advanced nation lending the D.S.A. a helping hand. And since the Havens family stood in her favor, Alipang and Kim had received her permission to come closer to the anti-gravity demonstration than would be allowed for most people.

"Is that thing powered by a fusion-bottle engine?" Kim asked the Undersecretary.

"So it is. The great obstacle to _practical_ use of anti-gravity was always the problem of providing adequate power to a _mobile_ gravity-alteration plant. Not much use hoisting heavy objects up and down and up and down in one place, if you can't move the lifter laterally."

"And what about changing the _attitude_ of the object being levitated?" asked Alipang.

"A piece of cake," replied the Undersecretary. "Remember, the Enclave _exists_ for the very purpose of changing attitudes. Sorry, bad joke. But yes, you'll soon see that this lifter _does_ have the ability you mention. They just increase the output at one end of the gravitic emitter while decreasing it at the other end, and the pillar they're carrying -- there, there it goes!" While they had been speaking, the Indian crew had brought their anti-gravity tractor up to the spot where the pillar was to stand; the adjustment the Undersecretary had been explaining worked like giant invisible hands, tilting the levitated pillar until it could slide on an invisible ramp, to settle into its intended place.

"Now, that," observed Kim, "is the most scientifically impressive caber toss I have ever seen."

To this, her husband said, "I wonder how _financially_ impressive it is."

The Undersecretary looked at Alipang. "If you mean, is it economical, the answer is that it is not yet _very_ economical. We're not quite living in the science-fiction stories where everybody has their own anti-grav cart or anti-grav bicycle or anti-grav skateboard. But that's coming eventually, and India is possibly even _ahead_ of China in making it happen."

"I suppose that by helping out America this way, India is making an international statement about that very thing," said Kim.

"They probably are, though foreign policy is not my need-to-know area. Something I can tell you in this connection is that less than an hour ago, the Indians agreed to permit a holographing team to videocord the work they're doing right now."

Alipang's beady eyes widened. "Oh? Whose camera crew?"

"Some people working for Distribution, simply because they're available. But the holovideo they take -- this will interest you two -- is going to be incorporated in the new _movie_ that the Salisburys will star in, the sequel to Sectors of the Heart. In fact, Dan Salisbury is going to be flown in here any minute now, so he can be filmed walking around close to the lifting tractor."

"That must be so as to show his dumb-hick character being baffled by seeing anti-gravity at work," Kim speculated.

The Undersecretary lowered her voice. "That's correct, from what I'm told. With the State Department having taken authority over our entertainment industry, some personnel of that department -- including Samantha Ford -- went so far as to suggest that Dan's character should be so stupid, he thinks the lifter is demonic and tries to cast evil spirits out of it. Doctor Havens, there's no need for that angry look, the suggestion was rejected. Your friend Daffodil, I mean David, opposed it, and his arguments prevailed with higher-ups."

"Thank the Inexpressible Ultimate for small favors," Alipang sighed.
 
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Some five minutes later, a small two-seat helicopter, far from the latest model but very well maintained, approached for a landing, as close as it could safely come to the worksite. It was Texas Ranger Aircraft Number 343, Emilio Vasquez's faithful patrol chopper. Descending behind it was a larger helicopter, with the markings of the Distribution Department. When Emilio emerged from 343, he proved to be accompanied by his wife Melody, Alipang's Chinese-born sister, who held Baby Douglas with one arm. The couple hurried over to greet Alipang and Kim.

"Emilio's officially here to check on the Indians' contribution to the geothermal project," said Melody as she hugged her brother with her free arm. "As the Enclave's chief defender against outside threats, it's his job to keep aware of the condition of all the objectives he's guarding. But there was no order that he _couldn't_ bring me along."

Kim grasped Baby Peggy under both armpits and held her out toward Baby Douglas. "Here, Peggy, say hello to Cousin Dougie."

"Yagugobabaduba," remarked Peggy, to which Douglas replied with a sociable "Umbawoowa."

"Are you also going to watch Dan filming the movie scene the Undersecretary just told us about?" Alipang asked Emilio.

Emilio glanced from Alipang to the triumvirate member. "That and more."

The Undersecretary met his gaze. "Yes, Lieutenant, you're always juggling ten or more things in your mind. Just now, for instance, I'll wager pesos to centavos that you were _strongly_ tempted to fly in directly _above_ that anti-gravity tractor, to see what effect it would have on your helicopter."

"Not with my wife and son on board, I wouldn't. But it _will_ in fact be necessary, sooner or later, for _someone_ to test how much effect an anti-grav emitter has upon aircraft passing straight overhead. For now, I have something more personal to talk about with Al and Kim."

"I can take a hint. There's Dan Salisbury now, getting out of the other helo. I'll let him join the rest of you, and you can have your family chat without me."

"Actually, ma'am, I'd be grateful if you would keep Dan _away_ from us for a minute; I need to tell my news to Al and Kim _before_ Dan hears about it. Please encourage him to shoot his scene first, _then_ talk to us."

With no more argument than a raising of eyebrows, the Energy Undersecretary did as Emilio had requested. Thus, Dan settled for a wave in Alipang's direction before accompanying the camera crew to shoot views of himself wandering around the Indian equipment.

"What's this news?" Kim asked Emilio.

"Something I picked up through law-enforcement channels, with corroboration from labor-union sources. You know that there are still 'kinetic negotiations' going on between rival groups outside the fence. Dan's friend Riff Gamble was dating Juanita Porres, from the school where your niece used to attend..."

Alipang frowned. "Riff hooked up with the woman who allowed Cecilia to be persecuted for not joining the Pioneers?"

Melody sighed. "Like it or not, Al, yes, he did. But if you're mad at him for that, he was punished more than enough."

"What do you mean?"

"It means that Riff and Senorita Porres got caught between two brawling mobs," Emilio told him. "They survived that, only to have Riff get shot and killed BY DISTRICT POLICE who treated him as ONE OF the rioters."

Alipang fell silent. A moment later, Kim said, "That's why you wanted to put off telling Dan when he's in the middle of acting a location scene! If he botched his performance when it was known he HAD just heard about his friend's death, someone might say that he was too upset -- and that his reaction implied a _criticism_ of the authorities."

Emilio nodded. "Let him learn the sad news _after_ he's done videocording; then he'll be able to compose himself _before_ the next time he's in front of cameras."

Emilio also knew about Juanita Porres' bold act of rebellion; but he had not even told Melody about that, not even in their secret way. There was too much hazard that members of the Havens family would react with unconcealed approval of the principal's turnabout.
 
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Dan was kept at his scene-shooting for more than an hour, as he improvised ad-lib dialogue between his peasantish character and some of the anti-grav technicians. All of these workers had previously been briefed that the American's character was _supposed_ to be a dunce; thus, they took no offense when he told them that he was surprised to see them with such futuristic load-moving equipment because he had thought people in India still used elephants for everything.

Emilio and Melody, meanwhile, broke out a picnic lunch they had brought along to share with Alipang and Kim. (They knew Dan to have had something to eat just before flying to the geothermal site.) Emilio kept the lunch conversation fairly neutral by talking about the adjustments the recent Texas Ranger reinforcements were making to Enclave life, and unclassified aspects of patrols lately flown by the upgraded "Texas Bear" airplanes.

At last, inevitably, Dan finished all needed shots for this movie sequence.... and came over to join his in-laws and their spouses. "Guess what?" he said to them. "Isadora Cruller's decided on the title for the sequel: Geothermal Sites of the Heart. This, even though the part I just shot will be almost the _only_ part that is videocorded in the actual construction area. Other views will be computer-generated."

"That's no different from the studio-versus-location shooting mix in many old movies," replied Alipang, while simultaneously looking to see if Emilio intended to give some cue. And in a way, Emilio did:

"Excuse me, Dan, but now that you're done filming, I have to go talk to some of the Indians myself." A moment later, much as the Energy Undersecretary had removed herself, Emilio arose and withdrew -- leaving Dan Salisbury in the company of three people who all went much farther back with him than Emilio did. Besides this consideration, Emilio's engaging people in professional talk would make less conspicuous Dan's imminent shock when hearing of his friend's death.

Having been a politician long enough to develop good observation, the Energy Undersecretary guessed what Emilio was up to, and saw no harm in supporting his plan. She and the Ranger soon had a large cluster of anti-grav technicians, plus the local project management, gathered around them for questions and answers. Dan's moment of sudden pain and grief thus was at least granted almost as much privacy as if it had occurred indoors.

Emilio's most relevant question was: "You know that China has discouraged the Diversity States from developing practical anti-gravity, though not quite strictly _forbidding_ it. So someone like me isn't able to keep as informed about this area as I'd like. Hence this question, dumb as it may sound: _have_ you done tests in India on whether airplanes overflying an anti-grav emitter suffer adverse results to their stability?"

"No question is foolish if the one asking has been prevented from finding the answer sooner," said a bearded and turbaned engineer, who seemed to have been _waiting_ for this very question. Approaching Emilio closely, he held up a tablet computer, whose screen depicted a horizontal line at the bottom, and a vertical line rising from the first line's center.

"The horizontal line is the Earth's surface," the Indian continued, "and the vertical line is the vector of an anti-gravity lifter's influence. What the layman does not stop to think about is that any object on Earth is not _only_ subject to gravitation from _exactly_ beneath it; the object is _also_ subject to oblique gravitation from all _around_ its position." As soon as he said this, new lines appeared on the small screen, left and right of the vertical center line, rising up at angles to meet that center line. "An anti-gravity emitter can only cancel direct gravity where IT stands; after you rise to a certain height, and that not very high at all, it is increasingly _unable_ to cancel gravitation from the sides. Consequently, any overflying aircraft would have to be _very_ low for the gravity alteration to exert any significant influence on its flight. So a device like ours is not a serious menace to aviation."

"Thank you, sir," said Emilio; and the Undersecretary added, "You obviously have experience in clarifying technological information for novices."

"I am pleased to be of assistance, Madam Undersecretary." Suddenly, the engineer handed his tablet computer to Emilio. "Please keep this, Lieutenant, as a token gift in appreciation for your aviation detachment looking out for our safety here. It contains a more mathemical breakdown of how different intensities of anti-gravity dissipate with rising altitude."

"Why, thank you again, that's very kind of you. I'll make a point of providing this data to the rest of my fliers."

The engineer smiled. "Yes, provide them with all the data that they ought to have."

 
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It was not until five hours later, after flying back to Casper, that Emilio was to discover what the Indian engineer had meant by his parting remark.

Dropping Melody and Douglas off with Rosa Cantu, Emilio then went to his secure office at Natrona Airport, to check for any encrypted messages from Texas. There were none; but the tablet computer had its own message to give, announced by its playing the first four measures of "The Yellow Rose of Texas." A large amount of scrollable text appeared on the screen of the data device of its own accord:

Hello again, Lieutenant Vasquez. Do not be alarmed, I am a friend. This computer was programmed to reveal this message only when you would be alone, with no other life-signs near, and in a place protected against electronic surveillance. Thus, you are presumably sitting in your shielded office as you read my words.

There are agents of the Rajput Racketeers slipping into your country, among them the woman who has become an advisor to the young Chief Justice of your Supreme Court; but I who gave you this computer am an agent of the Indian government. I am here primarily to identify mafia members who are have infiltrated Anti-Gravity Development. My government has no cause for animosity toward you Texans, and we share common enemies. I am aware of how your Texas Rangers cooperate covertly with that anonymous army which is principally based in Mexico, Argentina, Poland, Nigeria and Uganda; and you, individually, have come to our attention as a man of exceptional integrity and devotion to duty. Because of this, I am instructed to provide you with something which may save your life in an emergency. Accepting it will not obligate you to perform any service for us in return; it simply is pleasing to my superiors that you should survive.

When I spoke of you giving your comrades the data which they ought to have, I referred to the unclassified anti-gravity applications information of which we spoke at the construction site. This information can and should be disseminated freely; but you should transcribe it onto other media, while keeping this tablet computer in your possession. The secret part of its contents, pertaining to your own safety, is accessible only to you, via DNA recognition.

This computer is not only a computer; it is also an anti-gravity emitter, much more compact than any anti-gravity device of significant strength which India has made known to the public. It will provide you with instructions for its own use. Because of its size, it can only work for about fifteen seconds at a time if lifting a heavy weight; somewhat longer if merely slowing a descent. It needs long recharging between times of operation; this can be done either at a common electrical outlet, or by means of solar energy. The device can theoretically boost a human being upward in the air, or slow that person in a fall; but the recommended use is to install it on the underside of your helicopter. There, it would enable you to get airborne BEFORE your rotors have gotten up to takeoff speed, thus escaping from some sudden threat on the ground; and in case of damage to your craft causing it to fall with loss of auto-rotation, you could activate the emitter partway through your fall, reducing your falling velocity enough to give a good chance of surviving the crash.

I will not strictly require you to keep this gift a secret from your Texan chain of command, but I strongly ADVISE you to do so. As the Chinese have lately discovered, it is always possible that enemies have infiltrated your own ranks. The gift I have given you has the best chance of protecting you from harm if you yourself are absolutely the ONLY American who knows that you have it.

"Holy gutflak," Emilio muttered to himself when the message ended. "God, I need your guidance: _should_ I keep this a complete secret?" He couldn't forget how the D.S. Marshals had been infiltrated by Aztlano spies, and how hard the Rangers had had to work at making sure _their_ ranks contained no traitors....

He did not, at any rate, _immediately_ tell anyone, even Melody.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The next morning, while Ranger Zella Greenlee was acting as watch officer at Texas Ranger Headquarters, Commandant Brittany Pierce and Vice-Commandant Jed Brickhouse were in one of their secret conference rooms, meeting with the widow of slain Vice-Commandant Pablo Sotero. Monica had no idea why she had been asked to this meeting, but she would not be kept wondering for long.

"Thank you for coming, Monica," said Jed, rising to offer her a chair.

"What can I do for you?" asked the handsome Texican lady as she sat down.

"You already do plenty," Brittany told her. "I don't think you realize _what_ an emotional anchor you are for the Rangers, and for all Texans. You began to be that anchor _before_ the Fairness Revolution, when you and Pablo were struggling to help Hispanic people to get past blind, unreasoning groupthink..."

"Trying to stop them from being suckered by the Aztlan Reconquista movement," Jed finished for her. "And Texas, at least, was spared from that."

Monica shrugged. "I believed in the United States -- as did my husband. And now I believe in what _remains_ of it, which is _here_ in Texas."

Brittany smiled. "You don't realize it, but out of your own mouth you're confirming the merit of our plans concerning you -- that is, what we're going to _request_ that you agree to."

Monica drew herself up straighter in her chair. "If you tell me that you honestly believe that what you have in mind will give my son a better chance for a good life, I promise I'll be all for it."

"We do believe so," replied Jed.

Brittany took a deep breath and launched onto her explanation:

"We recently came into possession of a manuscript written by a _Hispanic_ gentleman who had been an anti-communist activist for all of his adult life. We've gone over it so as to extract information of interest, while concealing the author's identity. Combining this information with intelligence of our own collecting, we have compiled such a compelling indictment of the Fairness Party as could persuade virtually _everyone_ in Texas to agree.... on secession from the Diversity States."

"We're still giving Megavolt Atkinson a chance to demonstrate better character than Jessica Trevette had," Jed interjected; "but we want to be ready to break away from the D.S.A. on _very_ short notice."

Brittany resumed: "Our data-cloud experts have developed a plan to inject our call for secession into all the media at once. We can make it an online referendum, pledging that we _won't_ move to declare independence _unless_ a clear majority of Texans approves. But since we Rangers are in effect the army, we have to _avoid_ letting this be seen as a _military_ coup. The Mexican Alliance contains no dictatorships, military or otherwise, and they won't back our play if we don't prove our intention to set up a representative government. Therefore, we need to offer a _civilian_ interim President; and this President must be a female Hispanic, so the Fairness Party can't call our revolution 'a white supremacist uprising' OR 'a male-chauvinist reactionary movement.' Once we commit to the do-or-die attempt, there won't be time for an election campaign; the woman chosen _must_ be someone _already_ widely known and respected."

"Monica," Jed solemnly intoned, "we need YOU to be our interim President. And if it happens, then probably President for a regular term."

"Please, Monica," said Brittany. "Do it for Miguel -- and for Pablo."

Monica leaned back in her chair, eyes widened. "I dreamed about Pablo last night! I dreamed that he handed me an old-fashioned cavalry saber, and said to me, 'Carry this until our son is old enough to carry it.' Now I see why that dream was sent to me. I'm in. I'll do it."

Brittany got up to hug her friend. "God bless you! And we'll find you an _actual_ saber."
 
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Carol and I finally have explored Wyoming. Now I have identified corrections I have to make in my story-geography. For instance, I had been under the impression that there was a mountain CLOSE BY the city of Casper on the west side; now I know that it's mostly prairie out that way.

I will have to insert retroactive corrections in some of my existing chapters. Note that these will not have to change any of the onstage events of my plotline so far. But I'll need to add some after-the-fact rationale for things. Notably, Carol and I learned that there IS NO town of Sussex in Wyoming; "Sussex" merely refers to something like a rural township or district, occupied by ranchers. Thus, I will have to say that when the Fairness Party created the Western Enclave, it decided to MAKE a town there, because someone thought it was a good place to put exiles.
 
Chapter 117: The Superwoman Sickness


After learning of Riff Gamble's death, Dan Salisbury was told by Isadora Cruller in a dataphone conversation that he could take a day off before shooting any more scenes in the construction area where the anti-gravity lifter was in use.

Chilena was unable to come up to Yellowstone and comfort her husband, as Ms. Cruller would not let her interrupt some filming that was in progress on the rolling plains west of Casper. But there were others who showed up at the geothermal site. One was Peter Tomisaburo, as part of a work team that would help install the air systems in buildings which were far enough along for this to be done. Another was Yang Sung-Kuo, who was going to have to return to China soon, and so wanted to see Alipang once again before departing. Still another was the artificially-strengthened actress Pulverizer Clarendon, who was reprising her Commerce Inspector character from Sectors of the Heart.

Peter, unsuspected by anyone except Lieutenant-Colonel Yang, was using his acquired radio-frequency vision to determine if any of the personnel from Anti-Gravity Development of New Delhi were making radio transmissions that seemed to be unrelated to their company's business. His covert actions were a great deal more subtle than those of Yang or Ms. Clarendon.

After offering his condolences to Dan, Yang took his first opportunity to draw Alipang aside. "My report on the Enclave's educational improvements is completed, and I promise it _will_ make you exiles look good. As things now stand, W.E.M.U. will open for business in early August, with its first classes being held in three areas: dentistry, internal medicine, and general surgery. They also contemplate a holistic-therapies department, which of course we Chinese find pleasing."

"So are you about to leave?" asked Alipang. "It was great to get to meet your wife and daughters, but I wish we'd been able to spend more time together."

Yang shrugged. "Sorry to tell, yes, I'm being recalled. My superiors are convinced that no one is after me in particular anymore; and I'm needed back at my real job, since men from the Egyptian and Babylonian Caliphates are increasingly stirring up trouble at the United Nations. But some visiting is better than no visiting. And surely you and I can spar one more time, so I can see if there are any last recommendations I can offer about your technique."

"My pleasure," Alipang beamed.

Pulverizer Clarendon, meanwhile, offered her own idea of sympathy to Dan: "Citizen Salisbury, I'm sorry to hear that your friend blundered into the police officers' field of fire. I have no doubt that the careless shooters were all male. Please don't hold it against Citizen Porres that she was unable to save Citizen Gamble; _even_ a woman can't always be on top of _every_ possible situation. And the emotional confusion she reportedly showed afterward suggests that she had never quite reached her goddess-potential."

"Thank you for your concern," Dan managed to reply.

Soon after this, a young actress named Hydrogen Forbes who had come with Pulverizer, one who was also to portray a Commerce Inspector, found them and announced that there was going to be a friendly fight between the exile dentist and the Chinese researcher. The Indian workers were being allowed to take a break to watch.

"Get someone with a camera!" Pulverizer exclaimed excitedly. "We can build a good improvised scene around that." The use she had in mind for this fortuitous opportunity was one that she knew Isadora would find pleasing: when they had the martial-arts match videocorded, they could then shoot scenes for intercutting, with Pulverizer's character commenting to her fellow policewoman about how the techniques of the fighters were _almost_ worthy to be compared to female prowess.

Alipang cared nothing about any feminist-propaganda purposes to which this occasion might be put; he simply was happy for the chance to stretch his skills against his friend Yang one more time. Both bare-chested, the two men went at it with an audience almost as large as when they had sparred last year. Alipang immediately noticed that Yang was avoiding ordinary attacks in favor of trying to show him every uncommon technique he could think of. Between various non-contact strikes at vulnerable spots on the Filipino's body, the kung-fu man frequently opened the range between them, encouraging Alipang to do more kicking than he was usually prone to do.

Among the onlookers was a man rather more qualified than Pulverizer Clarendon to judge the merits of the men sparring. Kostas Demophilos had his training as a wrestler, but his training included ways for a wrestler to defend against every sort of boxing technique. Noticing Kostas in the crowd, Pulverizer had another inspiration. When Alipang and Yang finally called a halt and happily hugged each other amid loud applause, the actress approached the Forest Ranger.

"Excuse me, Ranger Demophilos, you probably remember me from the movie company. Our male lead has lost a friend, so we'd like to ease this time for him by reducing his workload some. If you would agree to be part of a new scene I'm envisioning, Citizen Salisbury would only be needed for a few lines of dialogue in it, and then he could be done with his part here in Yellowstone...."

 
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Yang Sung-Kuo had now made his combatively affectionate farewells with Alipang; and Peter Tomisaburo was another Enclave resident with whom the Chinese "researcher" was known to have become friendly on his original visit to Wyoming. Thus, when Sung-Kuo contrived to talk with Peter in an out-of-the-way spot, where others would not see the anti-surveillance device he had activated, no one else would suspect that he was receiving a report from a deep-cover Chinese espionage agent. The security of their final meeting was helped, of course, by the spy's ability literally to see any nearby electronic activity of an unexpected nature.

Peter began his report by handing the officer a sheet of paper. "I've written the names, or failing that, the job descriptions, of all the Anti-Gravity Development employees whom I've detected using radio communications in ways, or on frequencies, which didn't seem to fit in with the company's regular communications. These might simply have been private conversations of no concern to us; but I picked up all that I could."

"That was correct of you. Now, why did you put a star beside the first name on your list?"

"For two reasons. One, because this man transmitted on a little-used SHF channel, while all the others shared a different channel well removed from his. Two, because this man spoke in person with Texas Ranger Vasquez, you know, their aviation commander -- and gave him a tablet computer."

Yang Sung-Kuo nodded at this. "A tablet computer which might have contained something of interest, although the Texans are not considered hostiles. And the fact that this one man spoke with an honest law-enforcement officer argues that most likely he is on the side of law himself, and the other workers you noted are criminals, rather than the reverse. I'm not your supervisor, but my advice would be that you not bother with this man, but find out anything else you can about the rest for when Beijing next calls you. India's government is remaining at peace with us; but _America_ may not be the _only_ place where Indian organized crime seeks to fill the vacuum left by the downfall of the Triad gangs."

Peter sighed. "Will Beijing _ever_ extract me and let my family live in China? Or for that matter, in a new undercover post in Japan?"

"I wish I knew. But I'm just your courier of convenience. Oh, and before I forget again: here's that little tool you lent me. It was definitely helpful with pest control;" and he returned Peter's micro-whip to him.

"Well, as before, it was good having _someone_ from China here."

"Thanks. And you'll find that my family has left its mark: my daughters have taught ribbon-banner dancing to quite a few children in Rapid City."

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

The next day, with Yang Sung-Kuo back in the Enclave capital packing up for his family's return flight to China, Alipang resumed providing dental care to workers as needed. Even one Indian woman (not one of the people on Peter's suspect list) came to him for treatment, having heard good things about Alipang. She then proceeded to say good things of her own about him to the Energy Undersecretary, who decided to furnish positive reinforcement by arranging to have Wilson, Esperanza and Brendan brought up to Yellowstone, so that Dr. and Mrs. Havens could continue working here awhile longer without further separation from their first three children.

This matter was still being worked out when the two actresses, now in their Commerce Inspector uniforms, turned up with the Distribution Department camera crew, having received Isadora's texted okay for the new scene Pulverizer had envisioned -- in which both Dan Salisbury and Kostas Demophilos were to appear. The Forest Ranger, interestingly, was clad in civilian clothes.

"This will come right after Hydrogen and I are seen watching the amateurs having their kung-fu match." Here she gestured to her smaller cast-mate. "You, Ranger Demophilos, will be inserted a couple of times during that match, as one of the spectators; we'll shoot those views of you first, just general yelling and cheering. Then, after Hydrogen says to me that Dr. Havens and Mr. Yang -- not by name, of course -- did _fairly_ well -- you will have your first line of dialogue. Here, have a look;" and she gave Kostas her dataphone, which was displaying his assigned words.

" 'What do you chicks know? I could beat those two, AND you two!' " the rugged Greek read aloud.

"Remember, it's your _character_ talking, not you," Hydrogen assured him. "No one thinks _you're_ so un-mutual and chauvinistic."

Pulverizer continued: "Then we'll shoot Citizen Salisbury coming up and trying to talk you out of challenging us, which of course you refuse to listen to. Next, three insert shots of him watching and wincing as you get thumped, followed by his last bit: he looks right into the camera and sighs, 'I _told_ him not to question the superiority of women!' That will mellow the effect of his country-boy character's earlier ignorance about the gravity technology, as he shows some good common sense; and with that, his part in the Yellowstone sequence will be finished, and he can have some time off."

Kostas absorbed this without comment; he had long since learned how to keep the establishment happy. Everything Pulverizer had described was videocorded in very short order. And then it was time for the shots around which all the rest would revolve, as Kostas, pretending to be a backward goon but explicitly allowed to use all his ability, was to wrestle with Pulverizer.

 
Glad to see an update. :)

To choose a name like "Pulverizer" requires...well, an awful lot of self-esteem. Wow.
 
Once Kostas had stripped off his shirt in front of the cameras, which was a shot in itself, Hydrogen interjected, "Just a moment! Pulverizer, what say we get a closeup right now of him crumpling in defeat, so we can stick that on at the end of the bout, just before Citizen Salisbury pronounces the moral to the audience?"

"Not a bad idea," replied the larger woman. "Let's take five or six views from different angles. Ranger Demophilos, do you mind? You won't have to take a fall from a standing start for a close-range view like this; you can start from kneeling or crouching, and drop to the ground pretty easily. Only, don't look dead. I'm not supposed to have killed you."

Kostas nodded, actually starting to feel a bit of the show-business bug infecting him. "No problem. How about if I fall twice onto my face, twice on my back, and twice on one side?"

The musclewoman actually smiled at him. "That sounds good." So that was how they did it. And then, with all the extra bits _really_ attended to, a man strong by nature squared off with a woman strengthened by bioscience. Alipang and Kim were there among the spectators -- and the situation for the movie did not require that the presence of spectators be concealed. (In fact, a spare camera was assigned exclusively to take shots of cheering onlookers.)

Due to his limitations in height and weight, wrestling had never been Alipang's first choice as a way to fight, but he certainly had some acquaintance with it. Kim was watching merely with morbid curiosity, remembering how Ms. Clarendon had tossed around her brother-in-law, though of course Terrance had not been fighting back. But Alipang was watching this as he would watch any fight, as he had even watched Osmawani's play-fight with make-believe mutant zombies: always looking to see what skills others possessed.

What he saw now reinforced his ambivalence about the advancement of the life sciences. Pulverizer Clarendon had, if anything, _less_ actual fighting skill than Osmawani Jalil. Kostas Demophilos was ahead of the actress from the start, anticipating her moves, and choosing moves of his own that should have led to an easy victory for him. _Should_ have... but every time he gained a controlling hold, every time he came close to scoring a pinfall, his adversary pried herself loose by sheer, overwhelming strength. It was unfair, like using a gun against an unarmed victim; and yet, on the other hand, unassisted nature also produced unfair inequalities of power. So Alipang's feelings on the morality of Pulverizer's modifications remained ambivalent. As for the pragmatic side of the subject, the compact Escrimador decided that if he were ever forced to fight this massive woman in life-and-death earnest, he _would_ fight dirty, up to and including putting her eyes out.

Since this theatrical wrestling bout involved no _hitting,_ and since Pulverizer was not really aiming to _hurt_ Kostas, the Forest Ranger kept on trying, which was fine from a cinematic viewpoint, since it produced more footage to work with at editing time. He wasn't gaining any advantage, but at least he was giving her a workout, which would make her own character look better in the finished movie. Simultaneously with assessment of combat skills, Alipang's mind continued looking at all implications of what some laboratory had done with Pulverizer, and how somatic changes produced when she was already a young adult must differ from pre-natal alterations. It could not have been enough _just_ to make her voluntary muscles stronger. The supporting tendons would have needed greater toughness and resilience; her lung capacity, or the oxygen-carrying potential of her blood, or both, would have needed to increase, and so on....

Pulverizer had Kostas hoisted over her head in a show-off helicopter spin. From this she leaned forward, in a manner clearly calculated to drop Kostas to the ground with _less_ of a hard impact for him than it would be made to seem on screen. But as he tumbled from her grip... she did not straighten.

She also did not laugh, as she had laughed a few times during the match. Instead, she let out a strangled groan, and pitched face-first to the ground on top of her opponent.

The actress Hydrogen, the camera crew, and most onlookers froze for a moment in disbelief. But Alipang was already sprinting to the collapsed woman's side, mentally shifting to paramedic mode. He had a strong hunch as to what had felled Pulverizer; and in a moment, he was commencing C.P.R. on her.
 
I was busy being grossed out by Pulverizer...and then she fell over. Things are getting interesting again. :rolleyes: ;)
 
Moving fast, Alipang heaved Pulverizer off of Kostas, which served also to place her on her back where he needed her to be. It was the work of scarcely five seconds to confirm that she had no pulse; and two seconds later, he was performing chest compressions on her. The camera operators did not think to videocord this, nor did they think to do anything useful; but the nearby Kim, joined by Dan, started asking bystanders to help find and alert Felicia Robles, that physician being on duty now in the geothermal construction area.

Getting his breath back, the Forest Ranger propped himself up, saw what Alipang was doing, and said two words to him: "New style?" The older man, on joining the Forestry Service, had learned the older C.P.R. method which included rescue breathing, the method Eric and Harmony Havens had successfully used when Cecilia had her heart attack. But around the time Alipang had grown to manhood, medical professionals had begun favoring a C.P.R. which was all chest compression, maintaining that in the absence of any obstruction to breathing passages, breathing would automatically follow a restored heartbeat.

When Alipang replied with a nod, Kostas next asked, "Want to trade off doing the compressions?"

"If more help doesn't come after three minutes, yes. The Indians have their own paramedic, right?"

"Yes, they do."

Never ceasing his rhythmic pushes at Pulverizer's thorax, Alipang said, "Then please make sure he's called in, as well as Doctor Robles."

"I see the Indians are doing that now."

"Okay, meanwhile you can check for obstruction." Alipang had in mind the shortness of time that a brain could do without oxygen; if his patient didn't resume breathing very soon, he would begin adding respiration regardless of the new style. Kostas found the woman's windpipe to be clear; and presently Alipang did start blowing air into Pulverizer's mouth between sets of compressions.

The wait was long enough that he accepted Kostas' offer to take over after three minutes. This was not the fault of either the exile physician or the paramedic with Anti-Gravity Development; this was a sprawling project area, and both persons had happened to be occupied elsewhere at the time the extemporaneous wrestling match had been arranged. But Pulverizer showed a pulse, and faintly resumed breathing, while Alipang was taking his second shift at the C.P.R. She wasn't conscious, but she had backed away from death's door at least a little way.

Doctor Robles came running from one direction, and the Indian paramedic ran up from another direction a few seconds after her. "Doctor Robles!" the man exclaimed, displaying a jet injector. "I have a cardiac restorative you can use!"

Felicia Robles was turning toward him in response, when Alipang uttered his own exclamation: "Wait! Sir, is that restorative safe to use when the patient's heart attack is a result of kidney failure?"

"Yes, it is," replied the Indian. Hearing this, and since Pulverizer was breathing again, Alipang fell silent and got out of the way, while Felicia administered the same formula that had helped his mother. Kim, still carrying Peggy, came alongside him, and they waited to see if the actress was recovering well.

Before long, Pulverizer regained the ability to speak, albeit not with nearly the volume of her usual voice. "Doctor? Did we have an earthquake or something? Is anyone else hurt?" (Her asking about the welfare of others reduced the impression she had given before of being utterly self-centered.)

"No one else is hurt," Felicia assured her. "You had a cardiac arrest. Doctor Havens and Ranger Demophilos brought you around with C.P.R., and we have a cardiac restorative in you now. You need to keep still and rest, but I believe you'll be all right."

Pulverizer tried taking a deeper breath before murmuring, "Thank you, Doctor Robles. And if those two macho males are in hearing, I thank them too. That's one time I'm happy to have been kissed by men, sort of."

"We have our own helicopter that you can use to fly her to Sioux San Hospital," remarked the company paramedic. Soon the medevac flight was being arranged, and Felicia could spare the attention to ask Alipang a question.

"Why did you ask about kidney failure? Did it just come to your mind because you know I'm a nephrologist?"

"It's God's providence that there IS a nephrologist here now," he replied. "But I would have asked anyway. My consciousness has been raised with respect to the cleansing of blood, because of the blood filtering that was part of the cancer treatment performed on my friend Miguel De Soto. And when I was watching Miss Clarendon wrestle, I was thinking about all the metabolism issues that might come with a bio-adjustment like hers. The alteration done to her muscles must have made some change to the proteins in them; and it occurred to me that any change from the proteins God put in, might cause a harder burden on her kidneys. Then, hang me for a vegan if Miss Clarendon didn't keel over within three seconds after I'd had that thought!"

Felicia checked on Pulverizer once more before saying, "For sure, kidney failure leads to heart trouble. As an exile, I may not have the latest information, but my impression is that N.B.I.C. research is far from having reckoned with every possible complication of creating superhumans. In any event, I'll make sure that the hospital staff looks at kidney failure as the presumptive cause of Citizen Clarendon's heart attack."

"Doctor Havens?" Pulverizer groaned. "I have to give you credit... after the way... I treated your sibling Terrance."

Alipang leaned over her. "You didn't really hurt him, and what you did do to him was with his consent. And I saw that you weren't really trying to hurt Kostas, either. If everybody who enjoyed some unfair advantage were as mild about using it as you seem to be, life in general would be a lot easier on people. I'll say a prayer for you to get well.... something which may require a bio-alteration to your kidneys."

The bulky actress actually smiled at him.
 
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Matti Siermaala was still attached to Sioux San Hospital in Rapid City, finding an ever-increasing variety of traumas and ailments in whose treatment his ultrasonic imager could play a role. In the absence of Brendan Hyland and Josiah Redfern, the black nurse named Zamoria had become an assistant to him, while his preference in security options was accommodated by having law officers working for either Emilio Vasquez or Leroy Lincoln looking in on him frequently, besides the inevitable Commerce Inspectors.

When the news came that Pulverizer Clarendon was being flown to the hospital, Matti looked forward not only to facilitating her therapy, but also to seeing if his device would be able to distinguish any difference in density between her enhanced muscle tissue and that of unaltered human beings. Whatever he found out would be added to the secret army's database on the state of life sciences in different nations.

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

Back in Yellowstone Sector, while sheepish camera operators were thanking Alipang and Kostas for helping Pulverizer while they had stood gawking, Hydrogen Forbes phoned her director to report the incident. Once assured that the macho-girl star was expected to live, Isadora Cruller could allow her mind to return to movie business.

"Is the wrestling sequence complete enough to use as is?"

"Yes, it is. Just delete her falling down, and good editing will make the action smooth. Dan's last line is what closes the scene anyway."

"Good. Then we can concentrate the computer-graphic efforts on visually inserting her in, let's see, the courtroom scene, the mountain-trail patrol scene, the first and third chase scenes, and of course the climactic fight. When she's able to talk steadily, we'll have her dub her voice into some radio calls with your character; then when she's able to stand up safely and put on her uniform, we'll shoot a non-strenuous dialogue scene between her and somebody, for close to the end. That will give her enough overall presence in the movie that her fans won't be disappointed. We'll have you speak the lines she was going to say in scenes 83 and 161; and no one will even know that there were any mishaps in production."

"Does this mean you don't want the public to know that she had a heart attack?" Hydrogen asked.

"It means that I know the Bioscience Management Bureau and the Health Rationing Agency won't want it reported that a bio-enhancement went south. I'll ask Rhoda Gardner to get to work on faking a streamcast interview with a supposedly healthy Pulverizer. You start telling the people where you are that the State Department wants this hushed up. And while I'm thinking of it, you didn't tell me exactly who were the men who did C.P.R. on Pulverizer."

"They were Forest Ranger Diplodocus, and the exile dentist, Allen Pang." Hydrogen could not know that, in the future, others might also scramble Alipang's first name in this way.

The dataphones being on voice-only, Isadora's face-palm gesture went unseen by Hydrogen. What the director said out loud was: "As a policeman, the Ranger will obey authority with no squawks. The dentist is another matter. He's one whose karma has dropped him into the laps of quite a few situations that could make him look good. The triumvirate members favor him already, and this incident will only increase his good standing with them. We can't have him killed or threatened with death, so we'll need to think about some positive reinforcement to induce him to stay quiet willingly."

"I can offer to pleasure him," Hydrogen suggested in a cheerful tone.

Isadora slapped her own forehead once more, but replied quite mildly to the actress on the other end: "That might work, if only the dentist were not a Biblical marriage bigot. But he is one. We'll have to come up with something else."
 
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On the same day, David Redfern, Samantha Ford and Omnipotence Cortez came together to record an installment of In The Enclave Today with Martina Caldwell. The foremost purpose of the interview was to promote David's impending Bastille Day Concert by what had begun to be called the Blue Moon Orchestra. As the girl Omnipotence was a vocalist for the new show, and was also an Equalityball organizer, she received a sufficient share of attention simply by talking about these things. David, besides also speaking about the concert, was asked questions about the experience of getting to know his father -- and had been reminded ahead of time to keep his answers bland. Samantha was asked questions about her new career in erotic movies -- and she was under NO restrictions in what she said about it, which made her son uneasy but didn't bother Omnipotence in the least. The former Ambassador At Large declared that she was thrilled over David having changed his name, because this proved "his internalizing of the Party's principle of the autonomy of each bioproduct." She also took it on herself to claim that her son was equally thrilled with her "artistic success."

When they left the television studio, Omnipotence went her way, and Samantha called up a new message on her dataphone. It had been sent by one of Isadora's assistants. Thus did Samantha learn of Pulverizer's heart attack. The chief impact of this news for Samantha personally was that the production company was cancelling a scene in which Samantha would have acted with Pulverizer. As if anticipating attempts at bargaining, the sender added that no equivalent scene was to be done with Hydrogen, either. Nor would they put her in a scene with computer-generated images, despite the fact that her simulation of making love to Josiah Redfern had worked very satisfactorily. Samantha was of course disappointed at losing on-camera time; but an extra item of information proved interesting....

"Why, look at this, Daffy, I mean David."

"You can still say Daffy if you like," said the youth, who was still trying to be nice to his mother. "But what is it?"

"The last paragraph says that emergency care was rendered to Pulverizer by your unevolved friend, Dr. Havens! That man's reputation just keeps growing. When I came here, I admit I never would have thought that an _exile_ could be so prestigious that a full _citizen_ might benefit socially by _his_ friendship. Yet it's looking more that way all the time."

"Mother, I've benefitted plenty from Alipang and his whole family, _without_ needing to think of how I might use them specifically for my _career_ advancement."

Samantha suddenly embraced her son, in one of her recent spurts of unusually aggressive affection that rang so false in his mind. "But, Daffy, I'm not urging you to do anything that would _injure_ them! I'm only suggesting that you make use of any opportunity to imply, for the media, that _their_ good progress in being reconciled to progressive society is due to _your_ helpful influence." Then she tugged his head down to her and kissed him.

After enduring her kiss, David replied, "I don't like taking credit for other people's achievements." If his mother detected in this a rebuke to _her_ willingness to steal credit for achievements, she did not acknowledge it.

"No worries, you can bask in reflected glory a bit without diminishing their good name. But you know.... the degree of advancement you may accomplish in this way _still_ is limited, as long as you _don't_ meet the Party's relational-diversity requirement."

David stiffened. "Please, Mother, I'd rather not discuss this, least of all with you."

"But who else cares about you more than I do? I want you to be free to fulfill your superior talents! And earning unlimited promotion clearance isn't that difficult, unless you _make_ it difficult for yourself. Don't forget how many options there are; and I'll gladly do _anything_ I can that will help you...."

Samantha's review of the choices came to, and lingered on, an "alternative" which was recorded in Greek mythology. And this was when David had the first new shaking fit he had suffered in a long time, a violent one that dropped him onto the pavement in convulsions.

As his alarmed mother was holding him, trying to make sure he didn't injure himself, an athletic-looking black man came by: no less a person than Police Inspector Leroy Lincoln, who happened to be in Rapid City for meetings with his counterpart Eileen O'Hennessy and with the Distribution Undersecretary. Reacting promptly, the tall detective took over immobilizing the tall teenager, checking his heart rate and then asking Samantha if David had any serious disease.

"No, Inspector, no physical disease; he's just very high-strung. He's a compassionate boy, and it stresses him terribly to see all the Enclave residents being so slow to reach enlightenment, subjecting themselves to needless inconveniences."

Fortunately, David's convulsions soon subsided, but the Inspector still drew forth his dataphone and called for assistance. Leroy's presence inhibited Samantha from telling her son about a brilliant new idea which had just occurred to her. What she _wanted_ to say to David was: I know how we might be able to work around your lack of openness to mating variations. A coupling between you and that young Biblical woman, Harmony Havens, would not in itself be properly diverse; but if I can get the right Party officials on board, we could obtain a ruling that your taking of her counts as diversity -- IF IT IS MADE TO APPEAR TO BE DONE BY VIOLENT FORCE. Of course, violence against any woman who was loyal to the collective would _end_ your political career; but since this woman's a barbarian, we could spin the encounter as relational diversity. And you wouldn't _really_ be doing her any violence, just pretending to, maybe with the help of appropriate pharmaceuticals to keep her from feeling any distress. We could borrow some suggestive props from Zimmo, even some fake blood. Perception is reality, after all. Because she's an un-mutual God-fascist, what you appeared to be doing wouldn't be a crime; and afterwards, as you rose in Party rank, there would be plenty that you could do to reward her for her part in getting you qualified.

This was what Samantha wanted to say to her son. It would have to wait, but she felt quite hopeful that he would see the merits of the suggestion.

 
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Chapter 118: Civilian, Combatant, and In Between

It had always seemed awfully silly to Brendan Hyland that old-time European colonialists had bestowed the names Niger and Nigeria on two neighboring African countries. The more so when the first of those names was likely to be confused with the infamous and long-banned racial slur. Nonetheless, Niger-IA was his home now.... whereas Niger, with its northern border fronting AL-geria, was the natural thoroughfare for anyone coming into NI-geria from the Egyptian Caliphate. Thus it had come to pass that the Nigeri-AN security forces to which Brendan belonged were up north, on loan to assist the Niger-IEN military against the current Neo-Marxist threat.

This was not only to assist a fellow African Union member state, but also to gain more evidence concerning whether any Egyptian Caliphate personnel (or Babylonian, for that matter) were taking part in actual fighting on the Neo-Marxist side. Niger was not a contributor to the secret army, so the Niger-IANS felt the need to investigate for themselves.

The Niger-IENS had unmasked a covert infiltration force in their town of Tanout, in the Zinder Region. Some of the guerrillas were believed to be veterans of past Tuareg separatist uprisings; but the likelihood of Caliphate involvement was pointed to by a higher level of technology than the Neo-Marxists were thought to have been given for independent use by their Islamist allies. When the guerrillas realized that they had been detected, and took civilian hostages to shield themselves, the local police had tried mortar-launched gas bombs with a non-lethal subdual gas; but the Neo-Marxists proved to have immunization against it. So drone aircraft had been sent against the stronghold, to pick off sentries and enable a hostage rescue; but in a disclosure of capability more alarming than the gas immunity, the guerrillas had used hacking signals to TAKE OVER CONTROL of the drones, causing them to turn and open fire on the good guys instead.

Worse, two male hostages had then been tossed out.... in pieces.

Fortunately for the surviving captives, the secret army had assets the Neo-Marxists WEREN'T prepared for. Since it had to be assumed that the terrorists knew outside reinforcements had arrived, an open approach was made at first light on the fourth day of the siege. The terrorists were allowed to speak with Captain Raphael Udofia from the New Vatican Security Forces. Captain Udofia began fresh attempts at negotiations.... which was quite an impressive achievement, for those who knew that he was only a holographic image, complete with an infra-red component to simulate body heat.

While the illusionary Captain Udofia spoke to the Neo-Marxists from one side of their barricades, the actual Udofia was on the opposite side with Brendan. Each of them was leading a squad of the secret army, which contained both men and women. The one medic accompanying them was a woman. Concealed in the dim light by blur-projectors, they crept as close as they could, with interference transmitters of their own jamming the enemy's electronic warning devices. When they were ready, they cut loose with infrasonic stunning weapons; if the terrorists were able to HEAR the voice of Udofia's image, they obviously were not shielded against a soundwave assault.

The two squads had the satisfaction of taking EVERY hostile fighter alive, with no further loss of life among the hostages. "Female troops, see to the female captives," Udofia ordered. The women and girls among the hostages did indeed need the comfort of having fellow females minister to their needs... for the terrorists had had their own idea of passing the time while waiting to see if their leaders could bargain them out to safety. One of the abused girls was no older than Brendan's daughter Bridget.

It took self-command for Brendan to refrain from simply killing all the terrorists without mercy. But these men, or anyway these two-legged creatures, were to be given the chance to buy their lives with information. And as the mopping up continued, an unexpected bright spot was added to the picture.

"Molly! Molly Zondei!" Brendan heard his fellow officer exclaiming. "It's me, Raphael Udofia! Do you recognize me?" When Brendan drew near Captain Udofia, he saw that the young black woman Udofia was addressing did not seem badly hurt. Leaning against the female trooper who had been checking on her, Molly Zondei half-groaned a reply: "Why, yes.... back home, at that, at that party on Republic Day.... with the dance performance on the.... But how did you get here?"

"Superior technology, Molly. Take it easy now, you're going to be fine."

She smiled faintly. "Yes, I believe so. Who's your white friend?"

"Lieutenant Brendan Hyland," Brendan introduced himself. "Did I hear that your last name was ZONDEI?"

"So you did. I was born in Ghana.... in Niger on a post-graduate scholarship.... Most grateful for your assistance, to be sure.... but how does my name interest you? You never sat at a dinner table with me."

Brendan perceived that, perhaps because Udofia was someone she knew, Molly did not seem to be feeling a victim's indiscriminate fear of all males. Accordingly, he continued: "I may have met someone in your family. If you don't mind my asking, what's your father's name and where is he?"

Molly peered at Brendan more intently, and Captain Udofia now also looked curious. "My father was a minister, named Abraham Zondei. He was evangelizing in the United States right when the Fairness Party declared martial law because of what THEY called neo-fascist race riots. Father was reported killed by the white supremacists."

Brendan's face assumed a happy grin, despite the painful scene surrounding them. "Tell me, Miss Zondei, do you remember your father having one thumb shorter than the other?"

Her eyes went wide. "Yes, he did!"

"Make that, he DOES. Not only did the Fairness Party lie about the causes of disturbance in 2021, they also lied about your father. HE IS ALIVE right now, in what used to be the state of Wyoming! I know, because I was in Wyoming recently, and MET him there; he said he had a daughter named Molly!"

"This is going to be quite a story," remarked Udofia, as Molly was grabbing at his arm with joyful astonishment.
 
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In a secure underground chamber beneath Mexico City, President Andreas Garcia met with two representatives of the same secret army to which Brendan Hyland belonged. The representatives were in fact a newly-married couple: the long-widowed Stan Lewandowski, and his fellow aviator Kathy Templeton Lewandowski. They were among those network members who were concealed by fake deaths. Much of their discussion with President Garcia involved updating him on the renewed conflict in Africa; but other subject matter was furnished by the fourth participant in the secret meeting -- Monica Sotero, the prospective President of the prospective Republic of Texas. Precisely because she still was a civilian with no publicly-known special status, it had been easier for Monica to come here unremarked than it would have been for Texas Ranger Commandant Brittany Pierce.

One of the first questions that President Garcia asked Monica was: "In the event that Texas does break away and join the Mexican Alliance, will the Rangers be able to provide pilots of their own who can quickly learn to operate the advanced aircraft we would be able to supply to you?"

"Of course," she replied confidently. "But much quicker, of course, if our expatriates who helped you to _design_ those aircraft come back up to train the pilots."

Garcia smiled. "Of course."

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

There was another secret room beneath the private rural residence of Bert Randall in Australia. In this room, Bert had his own meeting with Hsiao Luo-Sher of the Greater Chinese Aerospace Force. Since these two men had gotten on well in their first experiences together, their governments had decided to continue using this relationship for secret contacts between Beijing and the Pacific Federation.

Colonel Hsaio's American-born bride Quasar was outdoors with Ma'at, Meretseger, Montu and Baby Allen, demonstrating her juggling talents. Carrying on this demonstration in full view of any watching satellites was quite intentional; it reinforced the plausibility of Quasar and Luo-Sher's visit to the Randalls being purely social.

Bert and his colleague exchanged information about biological-weapon attacks which had been occurring both in Greater China and in the Pacific Federation. The few surviving members of the downfallen Chinese Triads appeared to have a hand in those attacks which occurred on Pacific Federation soil. Medical science was able so far to prevent each new outbreak from claiming more than a few lives; but the persistent attacks were keeping both governments jumping. Combining their intelligence data, Bert and the Colonel became firmly convinced, and would argue to their respective superiors, that of the four Islamic Caliphates, _both_ of the more aggressive two, namely the Babylonian and Egyptian Caliphates, were guilty of these actions, but that each was mostly operating independently of the other.

Chinese and Pacific leaders were going to have to decide if they should retaliate with open military force against the offending Caliphates. There were two main arguments _against_ retaliating anytime soon. Firstly, they did not yet know if the Egyptian and Babylonian regimes were prepared to launch much heavier biological offensives; and secondly, they did not want to undo the recent tendency of the European and Central Asian Caliphates to behave more peacefully and reasonably.

Bert and his guest spent more than two hours formulating their tentative recommendations on this issue. When at last they felt they could take a break, Bert suddenly asked Colonel Hsiao: "So, are you getting as much satisfaction with an American wife as I'm getting with an Egyptian one?"

"Very great satisfaction, as it happens," the Colonel replied. "You know that every nation looks to its own interests, and it was in China's interests to make an end of the United States as a political force; but it would have been a loss to the world if that American spirit of spontaneity had completely perished. It lives on in Quasar, I assure you; and I love her for it."

Bert nodded, though he would never be positively _glad_ that the United States was gone. "I know others who maintain that spirit. I got a letter the other day from Daffodil Ford; you remember my telling you about him. He's finding his way step by step. He changed his name to David Redfern, and he's now a concert promoter, of all things."

"You've collected plenty of interesting friends in your adventures, haven't you?"

"So I have. It makes me a bit sorry to be curtailing my travels now. But I have the responsibilities of a husband and father, _plus_ those of an intelligence analyst; and I haven't ceased to be a linguistic researcher. So, as a general thing, I'll be tending my own garden more from now on."
 
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Yael Meyerling and Lori Purdue, with their shared more-or-less husband Professor Chun, were enjoying a vacation away from their duties in The Lunar Orchard. It was their first time on board The Orbital Palace as vacationers; and it was _their_ service to the space colony, not any achievement of Chun's, which had earned them the privilege.

Besides enjoying the attractions inherent to a space station, they had gotten the chance to watch Isadora Cruller's movie Sectors of the Heart -- which all the Chinese in the audience regarded as a farcical comedy. Lori had pointed out Dan Salisbury to Yael, but had said nothing about her past pursuit of Dan, lest Chun be annoyed.

Right now, Yael was chatting with Nyunt Zeyar the safety guard, picking his brain for all technical information about the orbiting hotel that he was allowed to disclose to customers. They were near a public intercom station on the innermost level of the rotating wheel -- thus, enjoying gravity a little firmer than that on the Moon -- when a Saudi Arabian gentleman and his harem strolled past them along the passageway with its gently curving floor. The women, wearing outfits resembling spacesuits which served in place of burkas in an environment with variable gravity, reflexively crowded away from the big Burmese man -- as if they feared that Nyunt had been waiting here for the very purpose of wickedly grabbing away their face coverings.

After this group had passed out of hearing, the Israeli woman whispered into her companion's ear: "That man had what looked like a fake fingernail on one of his fingers; and he made an odd gesture with that hand as he passed by one of those switch panels on the right."

Having heard the rumors that Yael was a former Mossad agent, Nyunt took her seriously, and whispered back: "Releasing nanobots for something, do you think?"

"That's my opinion."

Nyunt frowned. "The Saudis aren't hostile to us, but of course one may spy on friends as well as on foes. With four Caliphates all wishing to take possession of Mecca, Saudi Arabia no doubt feels it needs to keep up good intelligence collection on _every_ possible front, as part of its effort to remain independent." If speaking the word "independent" caused the Burmese man to have any regretful thoughts about his own country having been annexed by Greater China, he gave no sign of this that even the cunning Yael could recognize.

"Do you have nanoscopic scanning capability here?" she asked.

"Of course. He's already under basic surveillance like any guest; once I pass your warning up the chain of command, our technicians will sniff out any and all unauthorized technology he may have smuggled on board. I would give him points for having gotten anything past the initial entry screening."

"It can happen," remarked Yael. "Faye and Luminessa slipped _their_ secret devices past their original screening." She had another thought: "If that man is proven to have planted a snooping device, I hope that his wives won't be made to share in any penalty that may be imposed on him."

"I hope the same. But unless he is found to have been plotting actual _harm_ to us, I expect that the General will settle for interrogating him, and then barring him from any future visits here."

More than twenty-four hours were to pass before Yael would learn that the Saudi man had indeed been planting non-lethal surveillance nanobots, and that he would indeed be barred henceforth from the space station _and_ from riding on any Chinese-owned spacecraft. The most significant result to come from this abortive spy mission was that Yael would return to her home in the Moon colony with even more prestige among her fellows.
 
It was late afternoon on the day before Bastille Day: thus, the day before the second concert by the Blue Moon Stun Jazz Orchestra and Chorus. David Redfern had obtained the triumvirate's okay to hold this show at an auditorium in Casper, improving the chances that Alipang Havens would be able to attend it in person. Thanks in great part to the help of Tamara the upright-bass player, the rehearsals had worked out splendidly. The only catch, and it was being fixed, was with Omnipotence Cortez as a vocal soloist. In a mostly empty rehearsal hall, she was getting special attention today while the rest of the musicians were on supper break.

The girl could sing beautifully.... for eight or ten bars at a time. After that, if she didn't get a drink of water, her voice would break like a falling icicle. But the very nature of stun jazz, with its abrupt changes in the middle of songs, had come to the concert producer's aid. He had changed her part from singing one song all the way through, to having fragmentary solos in five numbers spaced throughout the program. This came to about as much total singing as she would have had if she could have kept going for one whole song; and after uncounted failures in front of the other performers, Omnipotence was grateful for David's solution.

Ransom Kramer and Lydia Reinhart were watching from one side as David gave the singer some coaching: "Yes, Tensie, I know it's incorrect grammar." (You had to have _some_ kind of nickname with a first name like "Omnipotence.") "In literature, the sentence _should_ say 'you and I;' but jazz songs, as well as rock, blues, hip-hop and country songs, have always allowed themselves license with grammar. And in this case, 'you and me' is what _rhymes_ with 'living free.' So no one will question your education if you sing this the way it's written."

"I've even known some hymns to be sloppy with grammar, both in English and in German," Lydia whispered to her sweetheart. The two of them had come to Casper with the majority of the Reinhart clan, as the last visit Ransom would pay to the Eric Havens household and other local friends _before_ he was officially baptized into the Amish faith. Not that Ransom would thereafter be unable to visit non-Amish friends; but on _this_ visit he could still be photographed, whereas once baptized he would have to ask people not to shoot pictures of him.

"I really appreciate your working with me this way, Daffy," Omnipotence purred -- and suddenly, without regard for the two onlookers, extended a hand to caress him in a place where he had NOT been prepared to be touched. That much forwardness by a male to a (non-exile) female could get a Diversity States male in big trouble in the year 2026; but if a girl chose to do it to a boy, any objection on HIS part could be construed as "hate." So, while stepping back from Omnipotence, he limited his protest to saying, "Please, it's David now. How about you sing this part twice more, then we'll move on to the last number."

"He handled that smoothly," Ransom whispered to Lydia, who was wincing at what she had just beheld.

But the former Daffodil Ford was about to have something trickier to handle.

Omnipotence was practicing her last song for the concert, when the rehearsal hall doors banged open, and in rushed David's biological mother, the famous diplomat and filthy-movie star. She never had found a favorable occasion to suggest to her son that he take part in a simulated criminal assault upon Harmony Havens; and now a new development had compelled her to discard that idea. Running headlong to David, she flung her arms around him and exclaimed:

"Daffy! I just learned something important, that affects you!"

Omnipotence did not remark on the fact that David did not correct his mother about the name; even in a society which held parenting in such contempt as the Fairness Party system did, the girl felt that David could give his caregiver more leeway if he chose to.

"I received a message from the State Department," Samantha continued. Actually, Bailey Melville and Moonrose Quickpace had also received it, but they had no part in Samantha's present concern. "The African Union found out that one of its citizens was being kept in the Enclave: the superstition teacher, you know him, Abraham Sunday or whatever. Now they're demanding his release!"

"Well, good news for him," Ransom spoke up, then was silenced by a sharp glare from Samantha.

"Yes, it is good news for Pastor Zondei," David echoed. "But how does it affect me?"

Samantha's face, her voice, and the grip of her arms around her son grew more impatient. "Politically, of course! The new administration is perfectly safe, with a black President in office, and with the white President who was to blame for Citizen Zondei's detention already dead. But this will still mean renewed pressure to root out white supremacists.... meaning that some lower-level personnel may get thrown under the pedicab."

To his own surprise, David now felt amused. "What, Mother, are you _admitting_ that the Party's accusations of 'white supremacist' activity have been made up out of nothing?"

"Never mind that!" Samantha snapped, reaching up to run the fingers of both hands through his hair. "Whatever you think of Party policy, you're _vulnerable_ right now, because you've never taken the step of demonstrating relational diversity to prove your progressive convictions! I don't know how much time you have before someone starts questioning you about exactly that! But you can _easily_ disarm that threat...."

Samantha brought up once again the same "relational diversity" option which had sent David into convulsions the other day; and now, she accentuated her words by behaving startlingly like Omnipotence Cortez. David was more on guard this time against his own reaction, worse though the treatment was when coming from his own mother; but the nearby Lydia Reinhart made up what he lacked in explosive unconcealed horror. As soon as she understood what Samantha was urging her son to do, the Amish girl's eyes bugged out; her jaw dropped; her hands flew to her mouth; and she bolted from the rehearsal hall, knocking over half a dozen music stands as she fled. Ransom followed Lydia; she was his priority now, though he regretted not staying to offer David such moral support as he could. But Omnipotence found the whole scene entertaining.

Prying his mother loose from him, David took a deep breath and told her, "Actually, there's _another_ way I can protect myself against a white-supremacist label. I can offer to _accompany_ Abraham Zondei on his flight back to Ghana; and I can ask to be allowed to go from there to Uganda, to work at our embassy there. My _father_ lives among black people, and takes orders from black people at his job; so no one can call HIM a white supremacist. I'll pick up innocence by association."

Samantha seemed to deflate. "So you really want to leave America?"

"Why not? _America_ has already left America."

"But who'll run the concert?" Omnipotence interjected.

"Oh, I won't leave before we present the show," David assured her. "And I think I can get someone to take over as producer for future concerts."

Samantha brightened. "You mean me?"

"Um, no. Don't forget, you have your _edgy_ movie career to think of now. I have someone in mind who isn't so _completely_ committed to the movie business...."

Thus it was that, when the rehearsal ended for the night, David sought out the lodgings of someone who, fortuitously, was in Casper to be one of the celebrity walk-ons at the concert: Osmawani Jalil.
 
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The formerly privately-owned apartment complex which was now providing temporary quarters for many members of the big stun-jazz ensemble had outdoor benches. Having gotten rid of his mother for tonight, and being still just a bit reluctant to be alone _indoors_ with the Malaysian temptress, David persuaded Osmawani to sit on a bench with him while he gave his reasons for inviting her to succeed him as manager of the exiles' musical organization -- which inescapably meant revealing to her what had made him want to leave. No one else was very close to them at the time; but at least the _place_ was not one to be chosen for seduction, even at night. Or David didn't think so, anyway. This being still summer, and Osmawani being Osmawani, she was dressed quite revealingly. But he had seen her that way before, and right now, the mere _sight_ of her personal contours was nothing at all compared to the shudders he still felt because of the _action_ recently recommended to him. It further helped his peace of mind that, at least in the early part of the interview, Osmawani tactfully avoided physically _touching_ him.

"Have you heard from anyone _other_ than Samantha that there was a danger of your being slandered as a white supremacist?" she asked at one point.

"Well, I did ask Mister Musgrave about it, you remember him. He hadn't heard any such thing, but of course he's not high up the ladder himself, so the danger still _could_ be real." From there, David proceeded to relate the differing reactions of Lydia, Ransom and Omnipotence; then he launched into the reasons why he thought Osmawani would be a success in her own right as a concert producer.

"You've done both live-stage and cinematic acting." He attempted a conspiratorial grin. "This gives you name recognition, as your being tagged for the walk-on tomorrow night proves. Of course, the live acting didn't have the most inspired material."

She grinned back. "Neither did the two movies I've done so far with Zimmo; but you're being kind by not saying that."

"Well, I will say this: the _timing_ of my offer comes when you _haven't_ yet been irrevocably typecast as someone _only_ suitable for Mr. Garland's productions. You have a certain aura, yet you can still ride that aura in a new direction. Besides, having been a government office worker in the Pinkshirts, you know you can do organizational work. You're well r-- well qualified for producing and promoting the orchestra."

Osmawani was laughing melodiously now. "You sweet boy! You were _embarrassed_ to say I was well _rounded!_ I'm really going to miss you if you fly off to Uganda."

"But you understand why I want to go there, don't you?"

"Of course. Even if you didn't have Samantha rocking your canoe here, having a family like the Redferns to live with sounds like Paradise. You already know that _I've_ never been granted anything like that. By all means, if the State Department lets you go, you go for it."

The words "--you go for it" were coming at the young man from a face which somehow had gotten much closer to his own face. David had no idea how it had happened, but the exquisite woman who had begun this meeting sitting three handspans away from him was now firmly pressed against him from the side -- her right foot against his left foot, calf against calf, knee against knee, thigh against thigh, hip against hip, side against side. Her right arm had snaked around him somehow, and her left hand had reached far enough across him to catch hold of his right hand.

"You know, you could have had people fighting each other for the chance to occupy the spotlight you're vacating; and there's nothing you intended or expected to gain for yourself by offering it to me immediately, other than maybe figuring that the triumvirate would approve of me and ease your escape to Africa. But I've never forgotten what you said to me about my trying to get ahead in life. You're offering me a _gift:_ the chance to take a direction in show business that will offer me more dignity than Zimmo Garland offers. And that has to be one of the three or four kindest things anyone's ever done for me. The Energy Undersecretary shooting Nash Dockerty still holds first place, of course; but somehow I get this feeling that thanking you is more fun than thanking her."

Her right foot now moved behind his left foot; her whole body swiveled to face more directly toward him; her left hand slid lightly up his right arm, while her right elbow deftly levered against his left arm to urge that arm to reach around her. As had been true of other times Osmawani had touched him, David was a _thousand_ times more stimulated by the bodily contact than by any amount of merely _seeing_ her or any girl or woman. He struggled to speak coherently:

"Uh, uh, it's, uh, you've been a good friend to me.... You've tried to make, make me feel confident, and you haven't, uh, made me.... well, you _usually_ haven't made me too uncomfortable." (To be sure, even now, nothing that Osmawani was doing was so upsetting to David as the recent unwanted fondling from two sources had been.)

The Asian beauty laughed again. "God, but you're cute! Only, 'cute' sounds condescending. David, I know you feel yourself still to be scarcely more than a child. But not only are you past the age of consent by law; you also have more _qualities_ of manhood than you begin to suspect you have." The way she was looking at him, David suddenly realized, was exactly the way he had once wished Thundercrash Bellingham would look at him, or more recently, the way he had wished Harmony Havens would look at him. But they _hadn't_ looked at him that way, though Harmony had come within hailing distance of it a time or two. And Osmawani---

Osmawani, not to be denied, tugged his head down to meet her face. She kissed him. She went on kissing him. And she did not let up until she had gotten him kissing back -- awkwardly, deliriously, but consciously returning her kiss.

When she allowed him to come up for air, he was gasping more dramatically than the length of the kiss would account for. Osmawani quickly told him, "I know that I'm not your ideal mate for a lifetime, and that you very rightly _want_ a mate for a lifetime. Even if we didn't have the age difference, my personality and my view of the world wouldn't make me the daughter-in-law that Josiah Redfern would prefer. But you're special to me, David; your plain, upright _goodness_ is special to me. I hope it _does_ work out for you to get away to Uganda and live with your soldier father; but I can't let you leave without letting you know just how _terrific_ I think you are."

David gulped. "Um, you can always, um, _say_ it to me." But he made no attempt to pull away from her -- even as she drew his right hand down to place it on her bare left knee.

"I am saying it to you," she replied, and hauled him into another kiss. Actually, several kisses. Between the longest kiss yet, and an even longer one to follow, she murmured, "I know you _weren't_ trying to get me to do this, and you're the more terrific _because_ you weren't looking for any such reward. There are so few like you, David, and like the old joke about good men and parking spaces, most of them are taken. Well, for just one night, I plan to take _you_ for myself."

David had made a Christian commitment, and he had some understanding of purity. But he was very young in grace; no one like Alipang was there to dissuade him from doing what his body now demanded; he was being offered, by the woman's free will, something that might boost his self-confidence; and what Osmawani intended _still_ was far more normal and clean than what the Fairness Party wished him to do. Thus, much as Osmawani had slid up against him on the bench without his knowing how it happened, she soon had him inside her temporary apartment with almost as little idea how it happened.

Little idea how it happened, and even less idea what exactly he was supposed to do now. But when she embraced him again, and said "I love you, David; I'll _always_ love you," he found it easy to believe that she would patiently and expertly help him along in the procedure.

He was right about that.
 
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