The First Love Of Alipang Havens

Around the same time as two heterophobic Diversity States bureaucrats were getting down to the business of astonishing themselves with being able to feel an attraction to each other... one sexually normal man was leading another sexually normal man to meet a third sexually normal man in the third man's secret conference room.

Which is to say that Orbital Palace safety guard Nyunt Zeyar was escorting a visitor to meet Aerospace Force General Yang Pang-Zhu, commander and manager of the space station. The visitor, completely new to low gravity and not particularly liking it, was the former jester to El Presidente of the People's Aztec-Maoist Republic of Aztlan. The visitor was the Hopi Indian clown Sunki Pavatea.

The burly Burmese was resigned by now to having no more part in covert operations. He presented Sunki to the General without wasting words, then made himself scarce before Sunki had even taken a seat.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Pavatea," said General Yang. "How much did Colonel Hsiao tell you in Australia before you boarded your spaceplane?"

"He told me that he had just met with the Pacific Federation official who had been an observer at the boarding of the commercial cargo vessel which was carrying heavy rail-gun components. He said that he had already transmitted the observer's complete report to you. Now let me add what MY people have already told me. They said that you will want to use my knowledge of Tonio Formentera, my knowledge of his routines and his hangers-on, to increase the efficiency of a raid you are contemplating against Aztlan, in retaliation for their conspiring with the Triads to provide gang members with places of refuge against arrest. These refuges were to have been made defensible against you by means of the armaments being smuggled into Hawaii and Aztlan -- Hawaii's High Chieftain having joined in the scheme."

"True enough. You needn't concern yourself with the Hawaiian aspect of this business; but essentially the same thing is going to occur in both nations. We are going to remove that High Chieftain, AND your own former master, from their offices. Not kill them, nor indeed kill anyone if we can avoid it; but we'll make them face the United Nations Security Council, where brainwave-scan will prove their guilt. This done, some form of long-term detention, or of memory alteration, will suffice to ensure that they cause no more trouble.

"Your knowledge, Mr. Pavatea, along with what we learn from others with inside information about both regimes, will help to keep this punitive action bloodless. I don't know how much talk you ever heard about Greater China while you lived in Aztlan; but the fact is that, strong as we are, we still _don't_ want to make the rest of the world angry at us all at once. With human intelligence to fuse with our technological intelligence, we'll have the best chance to achieve total surprise in both Aztlan and Hawaii. Then there won't BE any armed resistance that we would have to crush. For China to wage real war upon Aztlan would be like a grown man beating a tiny child: something we would do if we really needed to, but which could not fail to make us hated. When we can point to the fact that no innocent persons were harmed in any way, it will help to disarm global indignation."

Sunki Pavatea sighed. "Enough innocent persons were certainly murdered BY the same degenerates to whom you plan to be so gentle. Of course you know about the human sacrifices on the Altars of Solar Influence."

"We do. And we know how you, at the time of your extraction from Aztlan by your own spy network, resourcefully saved the life of one intended victim."

"But there are _many_ deaths for which the Formenteras must answer. You know that as a Hopi koshare, I'm not supposed to take any part in bloodshed--"

"Which is why you made it known that you don't want to accompany the arrest forces. We can respect that. Your information will be enough help for you to render us."

"But even being a koshare, I can't be rid of the feeling that the Formenteras _must_ pay for their monstrous crimes. Just how many culprits DO you plan to arrest?"

"Not counting Triad members we may take, only those two leaders will be seized. The Hawaiians will be permitted to elect a new High Chieftain -- after WE screen their candidates -- while in Aztlan, the eldest son of President Formentera will succeed as would have happened if his father died."

Sunki's ruddy face turned cold. "I was afraid you'd say that. Don't you realize that Emilio Formentera is in _every_ way fully as evil as his father? Don't forget, it was from Emilio's knife, not from Tonio's, that I rescued that U.S. Navy veteran."

"At least the younger Formentera will have been intimidated. And Beijing will no longer oppose efforts by anyone _else_ to turn world opinion against Aztlan for the human sacrifices. But our own strike needs to be minimal, for diplomatic reasons. We neutralize the prospect of the Triads enjoying military-grade strongholds to operate from, and we intimidate the misbehaving governments. That will have to be enough intervention by us, Mr. Pavatea. But I wish you luck at holding more offenders accountable, someday."

General Yang said nothing to Sunki, then or later, about the _other_ big Triad-related situation that China had to deal with. No non-Chinese on Earth had yet been made aware of how Israeli-born Yael Meyerling, on the Moon, had foiled and captured the two American women who, acting for the Triads, had been using sophisticated biotechnology to take control of the Lunar Orchard. China's counter-espionage community still was trying to determine whether Faye Miller and Luminessa Tigobo had been out to turn the colony into yet another gang sanctuary, or to destroy it and somehow escape to Earth.

Eventually, much of the Lunar situation would become known at least to _some_ foreigners on Earth. But right now, the Hopi man had no need to know. General Yang thus proceeded to record his interview with Sunki, drawing out the sacred clown's memories of Tonio Formentera's habits and bolt-holes...

 
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From Sussex, thanks to the privilege of owning a dataphone, Daffodil was kept aware of Miguel De Soto's situation: how Brianna Wallace delivered him safely to Rapid City, and how the hospital personnel working with Professor Siermaala confirmed the patient to be in stable condition, in no danger of imminent death. The ultrasonic treatment would take many days, because it was no use destroying cancer cells _faster_ than they could get Miguel's body to eliminate the destroyed cells. And since Miguel and those caring for him would be in one place for a long time, Daffodil didn't feel entitled to be pushy about requesting priority transportation for himself. A paid seat on a regular train, leaving Sussex tomorrow to go by Casper and pick up Harmony, then up to the Enclave capital, would be prompt enough.

In the meantime, the youth could and did avail himself of the opportunity to profit further by being around the Havens family. For much of that evening, Alipang spent time simultaneously playing chess and checkers with Esperanza and Little Brendan respectively: both so that these children would not feel ignored amid the advent of their new sister, and so they would not feel so frustrated at not being slated to go to Rapid City with Daffodil and Wilson. Those older boys were stationed in the master bedroom, to keep Kim company and do anything she needed them to do. The presence of Kim's firstborn son was what allowed Daffodil to feel he _could_ be in the bedroom of this woman whom he respected so highly. Not that Kim had been uninterruptedly bedridden since Peggy Baeline's birth, but she and the baby were definitely resting now.

"Mrs. Havens," Daffodil ventured shyly, "since you were my age back when the Fairness Party _wasn't_ in charge, you lived through a period which, according to my mother, was plagued with religious oppression of women. You know how _little_ cause I have to trust _anything_ my mother says about history; but her kind of people must have had _something_ they could point to in the recent past, to convince the proletariat that the Party's proposed alterations of society _were_ warranted. Can you tell me _something_ about that?"

Kim smiled. "Your question reminds me of an old magazine cartoon, you know, from the days when _all_ periodicals were physically printed on paper. After my father deserted us in Georgia, and when it was clear that he was gone for good, my sisters and I were sorting through things of his to get rid of them, and we found this magazine in his desk. The cartoon I noticed in it was a multi-panel one. It showed a man who looked the way people then imagined a robber would look, but this man _wasn't_ a robber. In fact, the suspicious-looking man _got_ robbed at gunpoint, by a man who was _dressed_ like a respectable businessman. Once the innocent-looking robber had his victim's money, the _robber_ yelled for the police -- and they arrested the man who _looked_ guilty but wasn't."

"Mom's told us about that cartoon before," Wilson remarked to his friend.

Looking at Wilson and then back at Kim, Daffodil asked, "Is the point of this to say that the artist who drew the cartoon was part of the media that were already working toward the Fairness Revolution, and he was condemning businessmen as robbers?"

"He might have had that purpose, but I have no way to be sure. The reason why the cartoon comes to my mind now, is because it illustrates a truth. Most people would agree that robbery is wrong; but that's not enough, if you don't try to make sure you know WHO IS the robber. And what applies to robbery, also applies to the gender abuses which the Fairness Party loves to be indignant about. Anyone can say that it's wrong for a man to treat women as objects, as easy targets for selfish exploitation; but that's not enough, if they mix up the facts about _which_ men do behave this way."

Here Wilson told his mother, "Daffy should be able to identify with where you're going. He's told me a lot about his days at the Boston Tolerance House; he himself, and younger boys under his instruction, were _endlessly_ nagged about what beasts and exploiters they were if they expressed even a _gentle_ attraction to girls."

Daffodil nodded. "And that was the chief cause for the shaking fits I used to have. But please go on, Mrs. Havens."

Kim extended a hand to pat him on the arm before continuing. "Yes, you are a living example of what an injustice has been done. You have a good heart, which has gone unappreciated in your original circle. If my sister-in-law felt about you the way we know you feel about her, I know that you would treat her like a princess. Yet your mother, when she takes a break from the sexual anarchy she seems to live by, has the gall to claim that males like you are the _problem!_

"Anyway, when I was your age, it's perfectly true that lots of boys and men _were_ doing as much exploiting and using and abusing of us girls as your mother could ever have claimed. But your mother, and her whole Party, are simply wrong about how this exploitation _came_ to be common. Like that cartoon, they arrested the wrong guy. In fact, their dogma _compelled_ them to arrest the wrong guy... because the _true_ villain was THEIR OWN CREATION.

"I know you've heard of past organizations like the World Association of Legal Networks for Urban Transformation, which were involved in morphing the old Democratic Party into today's Fairness Party. Those organizations in turn were the offspring of the hippie movement which was _way_ before my time or Alipang's. The hippies had a saying: 'If it feels good, do it.' Those six words constitute one of the most _harmful_ pieces of advice ever given to human beings; and it's nothing but embarrassment to me to confess that as a kid, I _followed_ that advice, though fortunately not to a very great extent. The Book of Proverbs refutes the hippies by saying, 'There is a way that is right in a man's own eyes, but its end is the way to death.'

"Any wife-beater beats his wife because he _feels_ good doing it. Any harasser harasses people because it _feels_ good to harass them. Any adulterer, or cheating boyfriend, cheats because it _feels_ good to cheat. Letting the emotions fly the plane, without moral restraint, guarantees a crash. The people who think like your mother were the ones who _caused_ the increase of the very same abuses they now act indignant about, by promoting irresponsible self-indulgence. Alipang has talked to you about the rottenness at the very heart of the Fairness Party; I'm just adding to the explanation."

Daffodil gazed at Kim, reviewing in his mind what he had heard before now about her love story with Alipang. Nothing like what Kim and Alipang shared would _ever_ be encouraged by the Fairness Party. This thought propelled the next words out of Daffodil's mouth: "So you're likewise against my, um, seeking unrestricted Party membership, aren't you?" This was as close as he could bear to come to mentioning in Kim's hearing the decadent requirement the Party set forth for unrestricted membership.

"Yes, Daffy, in conscience I _have_ to be against it. There's no good way to do evil. I'm not saying that _everyone_ who follows 'alternate lifestyles' consciously _means_ to be evil, but it IS evil for them to make agreement with them the Go, No-Go criterion for being allowed to be part of the government."

"In that case," Daffodil declared to her and Wilson, "I'll ask you folks to pray that I can find a different path by which I still can accomplish _something_ worthwhile in my life. I promise you, I'll _never_ go for full Party membership, at least not unless it changes greatly for the better."

Kim then subjected the boy to excruciating embarrassment by sitting up, leaning toward him and kissing his cheek.

 
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At the time Daffodil Ford and Wilson Havens boarded their train in Wyoming, it was not yet sunrise in the Tribal Republic of Hawaii. At a comfortable bungalow on the Big Island, Lupita Formentera stirred in bed, half-conscious and wondering where her more-or-less lover was.

Cho Kwok-Shu had been treating her very tolerably, but in the last three days he had been distracted and anxious. Coming fully awake, the Aztlano dictator's daughter heard the voices of two men conferring outside the window. One was Mr. Cho; the other-- yes, the other was Vinu Dandekar, native of India but henchman to Lupita's father Tonio Formentera. Lupita was acquainted with Mr. Dandekar, but hadn't expected him to show up here in Hawaii.

She was getting dressed when Cho Kwok-Shu entered the room, looking half angry and half sad. Lupita reached to embrace him, asking "What's the matter?" Not acknowledging her tender gesture, he replied:

"We underestimated the investigative talents of our antagonists. And their ability to attract cooperation. Beijing seems to have persuaded both India and the Pacific Federation to help them track our actions. Our weapon-smuggling operation's been uncovered! Meanwhile, there's no word from Tigobo and Miller on the Moon. Things look bad -- bad enough that I have to assume I'm already targetted for arrest. There's no time to waste; I have to run for my backup hiding place."

"Don't you mean WE have to run for it?" asked Lupita.

Cho's face went stony and blank. "No. You've been fun, but I can't take any risk of you informing against me. This is goodbye;" and without more preamble, he drew a flechette pistol from a back-of-belt holster and levelled it at Lupita's face.

The Hispanic girl had just enough time to be just frightened enough that, when she heard a gunshot, she assumed that this was Cho's gun and she was being killed. But instead of herself dropping dead, the Triad gangster's head burst like a blood-filled egg, and he toppled. Vinu Dandekar had leaned in the window and shot Cho with a high-caliber solid bullet.

As the corpse made its final twitches, Vinu holstered his weapon, climbed into the room and grasped Lupita's shoulders, saying, "I'm sorry, I hadn't known he intended to kill you. Lucky for you that my dataphone has penetrating sensor function, and that I was in a nosey mood. When I saw him reach for his gun at the same time as his heart rate went up a bit, I realized what he meant to do."

Lupita still felt stunned. "I, I, he, I, he was.... thank you."

"No need to thank me, Senorita Formentera. Cho was a dead man anyway. I had instructions to disarm him and hand him over to the Chinese consulate."

"Instructions? From whom?"

"From your big brother Emilio. By the time you see him next, your brother will be your new President. I doubt you ever _will_ see your father again."

"Then Kwok-Shu was right? Everything's exposed?"

"Near enough to everything. Before another hour passes, Chinese special forces will be airdropped here in Hawaii, and in Aztlan, to make whatever arrests they deem proper to make; and neither Hawaii nor Aztlan has had time to become well enough armed to resist them. But you know your brother, always hedging his bets. He got wind somehow of what was impending, and grabbed his chance to ingratiate himself with the Chinese. He had men of his own detain two or three Triad members on Aztlano soil, so as to present them to the Chinese troops; and since I already was going on an errand to Hawaii, he recruited me to make a similar offering of Cho Kwok-Shu. For what it's worth to you, your brother also told me to bring you home safely if possible."

Glancing down at Cho's body, Lupita replied, "It's worth something, all right. But what happens now?" She found that she could not feel much distress for the doom which apparently was going to befall her father.

"We'll take Cho's body to the consulate. I've got a hovercraft with blur-projector camouflage, so we should make it there without anyone interfering with us. The Chinese might hold us at the consulate for awhile, but I'm confident that they'll soon let us return to Los Angeles. When we get home, we'll congratulate your brother on weathering the emergency; and we'll all make adjustments as needed."

"Adjustments including no more Triad support for the Aztec-Maoist Party?"

"Yes, that'll be the biggest adjustment. But don't worry. The Indian gang in which I have relatives took no part in the arms smuggling, therefore Beijing isn't angry at them. They'll soon fill the economic niche the Triads formerly held in Aztlan. And we have the Venezuelan Alliance favoring us. We'll still have the tourist trade, including as many 'special' tourists as ever. So you'll still be able to afford to dress in high style." Vinu moved nearer and touched Lupita suggestively. "Later, when things are stable, will be soon enough for you to decide if you'd like to thank me more personally."

 
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Another Summary Time, Sort Of


"THE POSSIBLE FUTURE OF ALIPANG HAVENS" is not yet ready to end; but as Glenburne and Zella may be figuring out, I'm in a stage of getting MANY loose plot threads resolved. So let me review these, in no particular order.

1) At the start of the novel, I re-introduced a character from the first novel: the vain, spoiled Lori Purdue, who as a teenager had tried to steal Dan Salisbury away from Chilena, and whose brother Kevin had tried to steal Kim Tisdale away from Alipang. Lori took the opportunity to become part of China's Moon colony for the sake of the adventure. The "resolution" for Lori has not all been onstage, since I have so many subplots to juggle; but let it be understood that through having to work for a living, and through the good influence of her new Israeli-born friend Yael, she at least is no longer a pampered parasite.

2) The Triad gangsters' interest in the "Lunar Orchard" has been potentially to use their infiltration of it as a lever against the Chinese authorities -- but still MORE, as a distracter, to prevent characters like General Yang and Colonel Hsiao from guessing how the gangsters were planning to fortify Aztlan as a safe haven for themselves. The reader has just seen that the Triads found their schemes exposed before they could achieve their goals. This proves a crushing blow to the Chinese mafia, rendering the survivors weaker than they've been for a long time. And as Vinu remarked, gangsters from India will thus be enabled to gain an advantage.

3) Dan and Chilena Salisbury, throughout this novel, have been in the extremely difficult situation of trying to keep the Neo-Marxist extablishment appeased (so they could keep their careers and their children) WITHOUT being cornered into denying Christ. Summer and Evan Rand faced a similar difficulty. But now, both of these Christian families have received the opportunity to live IN the Enclave, where greater freedom of speech and conscience, if not of travel, is afforded to believers.

4) Yang Sung-Kuo, Mark Terrell, Dana Pickering, Frodo Von Spock, Denise Heathcock and Daffodil Ford, obviously, have all undergone lengthy personal odysseys, leading each at last to faith in Jesus Christ. All of them have been helped along spiritually by long-time Christians, including Alipang and Kim Havens, Sylvia Lathrop, Summer Rand and Josiah Redfern. But realism has required that some Christ-rejecting characters would perish without ever coming to salvation, such as Nash Dockerty with his hit-men Vargas and Huddleston, and most recently Cho Kwok-Shu. (Which reminds me: DON'T start regarding Vinu Dandekar as a good guy just because he saved Lupita's life. Remember that Vinu has been a party to Aztlan's ritual murders.)

5) The Texas Rangers, embodied by Emilio Vasquez, have been struggling to survive as a power for justice even in an enslaved nation; this, while secretly trying to decide whether to accept Mexico's invitation to secede from the Diversity States. Now that they play an important role in things OUTSIDE their normal territory -- guarding the Enclave, and serving as a token air force for the whole country -- their hand of cards appears to be strong enough that they can feel there may be no need to secede, because their influence is growing.

6) Alipang, and other exile characters, have throughout this book been anxious to obtain a certain assurance that the government DOESN'T intend simply to massacre them all in the near future. The assurance would take the form of the government showing that it supports CONTINUITY of the reservation-society the exiles have built. As important in this context as anything else would be the restoration of a higher-education system. The Enclave has not yet existed long enough to have a "lost" generation where education is concerned; but it would not take many more years for that to occur. Thus, it is a tremendous gain for the exiles that President Trevette (albeit under outside pressure) HAS finally okayed the creation of a new medical university in the Enclave. (That's an especially relevant field in which to be offering higher education, since the Soviet-style governance of the Fairness Party caused numerous healthcare professionals to emigrate out of America.)

7) Any readers who have become fond of my journalist character Miguel De Soto must have been wondering if I was going to kill him off, since his gill implants only lengthened his life, not cured his cancer. I confess that I myself have long been mulling over the question of what happens to Miguel. I have now provided the means by which his cancer could really be put into remission and his body could actually RECOVER to some extent. So it looks as if Miguel WILL get to live out a normal lifespan.... unless, oh dear, some OTHER misfortune should befall the poor guy. :rolleyes:

8) Has everyone forgotten the character called Gerbil? In case you have, he's the ex-convict who, while in a federal prison, assisted in the cowardly murder of the heroic Wilson Kramer and his brave son Quinn. Ransom Kramer has yet to confront the knowledge that this murderer of his father and big brother is now IN the Enclave -- this transfer having been planned by the degenerate Vice-President Anselmo, who wants to see whether Ransom will betray the non-violent Amish principles he has adopted.
 
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Ooh...I'd forgotten about Gerbil, as it's been a while since Ransom had a fit of temper. Sounds like things may be getting interesting soon.
 
Chapter 107: They Who Are Sick Need The Physician

The evening on which Daffodil had consulted with Kim Havens was the evening on which Matti Siermaala's party tried to cover all possible bases in preparing to begin the ultrasonic therapy for Miguel. With Tilly De Soto privy to every step, they worked closely with the woman who was chief of internal medicine at Sioux San, the counterpart of Hassan Tamir whom they had met in Detroit. Every contingency was discussed, and every relevant resource inventoried, including medications which would help Miguel's white blood cells to dispose of the killed cancer cells.

Martina Caldwell came by, and used her own dataphone to record a short interview about the preparations with the Professor; this would be worked into a coming installment of In The Enclave Today. In her capacity as a Oneness Priestess, she offered a prayer to Mother Universe to bring good karma to the patient and grant him greater oneness with the collective. When she left, Miguel shook with his lung-less version of laughing, then mouthed the words:

"Now, how about some _real_ praying?"

Tilly, Matti, Josiah and Brendan obliged him.

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

The next morning, Miguel was anaesthetized and immobilized, and the procedure began. Matti and Josiah, assisted peripherally by the hospital's most-qualified medical technologists, did the actual work. Brendan made continuous dataphone video of the activity. Tilly and the chief of internal medicine were watching on a monitor screen, as were a number of local healthcare professionals including Avery Glass.

Aimed by means of ultrasound imaging, the needle-narrow beams of sound vibration entered Miguel's body from three directions. Each single beam was too weak to burst a cell wall by itself; thus they passed through healthy tissue without doing damage. Only where all three beams intersected was there enough energy being applied to kill a cell. The starting location for the ultrasonic therapy was a cluster of cancer cells less than a centimeter below the skin, close to the patient's groin. This place had been chosen because it represented the cancer's farthest large outpost in that direction; Matti's plan was to attack the cancer's territory on its edges and work inward. Slow, methodical caution was the order of the day; better to take longer killing bad cells than to make a mistake and kill a significant number of good cells.

Meanwhile, Miguel's blood was being circulated out of his body, through a complex filter, and back into his body. The filter was designed to separate the detritus of exploded cancer cells from the still-functional white cells, then allow the latter to return to work.

When two hours had passed, analysis of the filter's contents revealed that a great quantity of cancer cells had been killed, while fewer than three dozen healthy cells of any kind had been killed. This was very good indeed, when dealing with a carcinoma that had rooted itself so intricately among the victim's organs. Life signs showed that Miguel was holding up well; so, with the concurrence of the senior physician, Matti decided to keep going.

After another hour and a half, they came to a place where the target cells were directly alongside a large vein, making for particularly efficient expulsion of the killed cells through the blood. Given pre-calculated beam-aiming to avoid rupturing the vein itself, this place had been noted in their prior planning as an easy part of the job, if any part would be easy. Josiah signalled for a pause; then, with the beams safely shut off, he said to Matti, "Professor, you skipped breakfast. Why don't you get yourself something to eat, while the staff and I handle this easy part?"

The Finnish inventor was away less than twenty minutes, and upon returning appeared relieved that the others had not managed to kill the patient in his absence. The procedure continued past noon, with no sign of either Miguel or the ultrasound apparatus being adversely affected; then Matti decided to quit while they were ahead. The blood filtration would continue for another three hours, to make sure that all disrupted cancerous tissue had been eliminated from the patient's body; after that, Miguel would be brought back to consciousness and given some recovery time, in anticipation of more treatment tomorrow.

Once it was judged safe to leave Miguel in the care of his wife and the nursing staff, Josiah checked his dataphone for messages. Sure enough, there was a text message from Daffodil Ford: My train delayed awhile coming out of Casper. Still hope to see you today. Bet you will want a DNA test. Josiah showed this to Matti and Brendan, who both found it encouraging. Matti, who had eaten, then went to meet with Sioux San doctors and review his success so far.

Brendan and Josiah had lunch in the hospital cafeteria, after which Brendan put a call through to Alipang's landline phone to report on Miguel's situation. This left Josiah -- whose family in Uganda would be fast asleep at this hour -- to go outdoors and walk around for awhile, clearing his mind and praying about Daffodil.

He was near the old earth-retaining wall at the entrance to the hospital property, a wall which bore the hospital's name.... when he caught sight of a woman as gorgeous on the outside as he knew her to be warped and foul on the inside. Wearing something like a harem-girl costume, Samantha Ford was deliberately heading toward him.
 
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In the moment of grace he had before this feeble fury was upon him, it suddenly struck Josiah that (apart from having light-brown rather than red hair) Samantha Ford looked like the old-time actress Maureen O'Hara. He wondered whether the pathetic diplomat might have seen Miss O'Hara's films, and might now be trying to imitate Miss O'Hara's powerful force of indignation. Lots of luck on that one, lady. John Wayne had always been able to stand up to Maureen O'Hara; but it seemed to Josiah that Pee-Wee Herman would have been macho enough to defy Samantha Ford.

At least she proved to have some surprise on her side; for her actions and words upon closing the distance between them were not at all what he might have expected. As Josiah stood unmoving, she grabbed at his upper arms with her hands...bent her elbows as part of drawing herself up to him...and literally shoved her superbly-formed upper thorax against his chest. Her face was close enough to kiss, but her angry expression was not inviting such a response by him -- not that he would have been interested. What she said, in rapid-fire fashion, was:

"I've got you figured out, caveman! You're not filled with any fatherly concern; everybody knows men don't have any nurturing instincts! It's me you want! I know all about you crude warrior types: if a woman doesn't conform to your patriarchal paradigms, you have to ravish her, possess her, humiliate her, to prove your so-called manhood! Well, I'm the one who cares about Daffodil's future; and revolting as you are to me, I'm even willing to endure your lust, if I can persuade you then to leave my bioproduct alone!"

Moving straight backwards out of her grasp, the surprised Josiah retreated to the retaining wall, hopped up onto it and sat on it. As she came toward him once more, he told her: "I'll grant you that there is such a thing as a man lusting to make a conquest of a woman who's been antagonistic toward him. But even if I were that sort of man, and even if I were unattached, and even if I found you desirable, and even if I thought you found me desirable, it would still be a whopping great job of narcissism for you to figure that I came all this way from Africa looking for a roll in the hay with you!"

Hovering about a meter away from Josiah, Samantha looked blank for a few seconds; then, retreating from him in turn, she screamed ear-splittingly: "HELP!!! HELP!!! He's attacking me! Police! Help!"

After ten seconds of this, she looked at him again, much the way a child in a tantrum looks to see if she has an audience. He had not moved from his place. She screamed some more, then stopped as she made her own throat sore. Only now did Josiah speak again:

"Miss Ford, you're even stupider than I thought." He pointed at a utility pole, then at another one. "We have two security cameras watching us right now. You couldn't even convince Rhoda Gardner or Neutron Invincible that I assaulted you. So how about you and me actually talking about what's bothering you? It's too late to take back your words from the other day; what you told me, you told me. Exactly why do you think it's bad for Daffy to know I'm his father?"

Shifting gears again, Samantha tried to be icy and superior. "Because the very idea of fatherhood is poisonous. I don't suppose you can step outside your own maleness enough to perceive this, but the crude linear thinking of males ignores everything spiritual! You've never met my son before, yet just because he carries your physical genes, now you want to spoil all the work we've done to raise him above primitive masculinity. I understand you have other bioproducts; isn't it enough for you to indoctrinate them in your warmongering God-fascist ways? Please, please let my only child follow his true karmic path!"

Josiah shook his head in disbelief. "Woman, you're the one who would learn something if you could step outside yourself. Your Party opposes faith in God, opposes belief in a conscious life after death -- yet you tell me that I ignore the spiritual! And you tell me that being male means I'm obsessed with physical genetic descent -- when my physical genes were all that you wanted from me! But I guess you haven't heard that the two eldest of the four children I've raised aren't my own offspring. Their mother, my wife, was an actual victim of criminal violence, as opposed to play-acting like you. And if my Melody were here, she'd be glad to tell you how my love helped her to get over the effects of what she had suffered. Forgive the fluke out of me if that equals warmongering."

Samantha tried another tack, which at least had the advantage of making her seem genuinely human for a change: she hoisted herself onto the wall to sit beside him, leaving a space between them. "All right, perhaps you did learn from somewhere a little of the nurturing quality which doesn't come naturally to men. But why do you want to take Daffodil out of the only way of life he knows?"

"I haven't said I did want to take him anyplace. But what good have you done him while you've had him to yourself?"

At this moment they were interrupted, by the arrival of two policewomen, Commerce Inspectors to be specific, who coasted up on bicycles with guns already drawn. One of these women said to Josiah, "We got a call --Ah, it's you, Mr. Redfern! Remember us? We were at the restaurant with you the other night." The second policewoman teased Samantha: "I see that your ambassadorial skills have already defused the situation."

 
Neither of the two Commerce Inspectors was the woman who had remarked negatively about men the other night. Knowing what sort of person Samantha Ford was-- and knowing, as Josiah did, that she should have realized that the falsity of her outcry would be confirmed by the surveillance cameras --they both considered it a grand joke that she would thus embarrass herself. In another moment, they were bicycling away again, looking for any specimens of exile-made merchandise that they could insist on inspecting.

Samantha remained sitting near Josiah, trying to look regal; but although she did have the looks for it, she didn't have the acting ability. It was her non-assailant who broke the silence:

"Miss Ford, you know that I know that you know that you have never at any time been in danger of my assaulting you. Right now, you don't want to embarrass yourself further by running away from me like a little kid, the way you already did once. But you're not sure what else you can say to me, either. So you wish I would just go away. As a matter of fact, I _will_ have to go back inside soon."

"Wait, don't leave yet!" Samantha exclaimed abruptly. "You tribal patriarchal types usually boast that you know history. Do you know the history of this hospital right here?"

"Well, I know that the 'San' in its name is an abbreviation of the word 'sanitarium.' So I suppose that it originated as a sanitarium which either treated people of the Sioux Nation, or was operated by the Sioux, or both."

"Ha! Count on a white supremacist to be inaccurate about Native American history! Sioux San _first_ originated as a boarding school, where young people of several indigenous nations were _forced_ to assimilate to the racist Christian culture!"

Josiah shrugged. "Okay. And how does that support the argument that your son-- that _our_ son urgently needs to be raised as an effeminate atheist?"

Samantha slid down from her perch on the retaining wall, so that she could stand in front of Josiah with a scolding expression. "It illustrates the violent, coercive spirit of your linear male thinking-- something I've tried to inoculate my bioproduct against!"

"Hey, make up your mind, is it racial thinking or male thinking? First we're bad based on race issues, then we're bad for being male. Do you think maybe that everyone in the Sioux Nation was female?" He dropped off the wall also, startling her just a little. "No, of course you don't really believe that. But _your_ thinking certainly does manage to be non-linear, in fact incoherent, when the talk is about how people _today_ should live. You tried to get me in trouble with an accusation you _knew_ to be false; do you expect me to believe that you're any more honest in other matters? I know your type: nothing matters but your faction's agenda, plus your own carnal pleasures. You'll say _anything_ that might bring you an advantage, then contradict yourself the next day if it suits you. You find it handy to slander males; but the Christian faith you hate has many _female_ followers as well. Are you trying to make those women act more like men? --Hmm, come to think of it, you probably are. Well, Miss Ford, like it or not, you _have_ told me that my genes were taken to beget _our_ son; and I'm _going_ to talk with him about it very soon.

"Good day, Miss Ford. I'm going back to work. Maybe you and I will have another chat when you've decided what you _are_ talking about."

Josiah had barely taken four strides away from Samantha when she ran up and flung her arms around his waist from behind, her voice now more distressed. "Wait, please, wait! Maybe I was wrong about you individually; but I'm trying to protect _our_ son from destructive influences!" Feeling Josiah starting to turn back toward her, she loosened her embrace and let him turn. When he was looking her in the face again, she continued: "See, I'm not trying to fool you with fake tears. But I'm _begging_ you not to change Daffodil into a, into a caveman! He needs to be able to blend into _this_ culture, not a long-lost past era." She was breathing heavily now, and her costume emphasized the visual effect of her breathing. "Forgive me for accusing you; I was desperate; I still am desperate! Please, if this carries any weight with you, you _can_ take me; you can _have_ that conquest, be the _first_ man ever to have me. Only, _please_ don't ruin Daffodil's future!"

Josiah shifted away from her just a little, gently enfolding her hands in his. "From what I know about you, for you to make that offer to me is like someone offering to face torture. So maybe, even though your whole political system is built on lies, maybe in your own mind you have some _shred_ of a sincere belief that emasculation is good for the boy. I can promise you this much: unlike your Tolerance Houses, I won't try to _force_ Daffy to do anything he doesn't want to do."

When Josiah took his leave, he left behind him a woman who was _not_ any more inclined to desire a man than she had been before. But Samantha _was_ thinking about Josiah in one way. Since he himself had reminded her of the omnipresent cameras... If Zimmo Garland could get police permission to work with images of Josiah from the surveillance cameras, or from any other source, it would be possible to produce a computer-generated scene of a virtual Samantha and a virtual Josiah making passionate love. This would expand Samantha's movie portfolio, without her having to endure any _actual_ bodily intimacy with anything male. And since most of the world now had no legal restrictions on the use of a living person's likeness, the joke would be bounced back on Josiah, and he wouldn't be able to do a thing about it.

Melody Redfern would know what media technology could do, so she would realize that her partner had not really been unfaithful; but the coarse, primitive soldier would still be embarrassed. There didn't seem to be any way of stopping Josiah from talking with Daffodil; but here at least was the prospect of a petty revenge.

 
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Josiah made it back to the floor where Miguel was, in time to watch as magnetic-resonance imagery was taken of the internal spaces now emptied of cancer cells. Sioux San's M.R.I unit would normally be used only for for patients who were not exiles; but Matti Siermaala's project was prestigious enough that the Distribution Undersecretary had given a green light for M.R.I. use on Miguel.

While Brendan was doing something else, Matti and Josiah joined hospital personnel in comparing the magnetic-resonance pictures with the ultrasound views furnished by Matti's own device. All appeared to be well. Soon, when the blood-scrubber indicated no more dead cancer cells coming out, the patient was brought back to consciousness and given some liquid nourishment. Matti and Tilly undertook to speak with Miguel about the progress made so far; this freed Josiah to respond when Brendan reappeared and wanted to take him aside for something.

"I got to see some fresh outdoor security video," the Marine veteran announced, once they were in another room and had their voice-encrypting masks on. "What did the ex-ambassador want? It looked as if she had suddenly had a change of attitude and fallen madly in love with you!"

"That's a _little_ closer to being true than you might suppose. The poor crazy man-hater actually offered to... to pleasure me, if I would give up trying to get to know Daffy."

"Wonders never cease. Has it occurred to you that, if you _had_ been intimate with her, that would have made for a more dependable transfer of nanobots from her body to yours? Good thing you're monogamous, or at some point we'd have to scan your body for the little pests."

"Probably should anyway," Josiah grumbled. "After we get out of the Enclave. Even a less than erotic skin-to-skin contact _could_ enable a nanobot transfer... Hmm, do you think the Party folks already suspect that our ultrasound apparatus can seek and destroy implanted nanobots? They might want us to _worry_ that I could have picked some up from Samantha, so they can see if we do have Matti scan me for them."

"There, you're finally learning to think like a spy; not bad for an Army grunt. Yeah, they could be thinking that way; but I judge it highly unlikely, if there _are_ nanobots inside you now, that they're intended for any purpose that makes it pressingly urgent for us to root them out fast. Later is soon enough to check you."

"All right. Meanwhile, it's interesting that Mr. De Soto _doesn't_ have any micro- or nano-implants to track him. And him a notorious boat-rocker."

Brendan shrugged. "You remember, before we had to pack up and leave America, how the government made a big pretense of showing _more_ consideration for individual freedoms, by _cancelling_ the initiatives to stick microchips inside everyone. They could afford to make that concession, because they already had so many other means--"

A public-address speaker interrupted them, squawking, "Paging Josiah Redfern, paging Josiah Redfern! Please come to the front lobby and see Daffodil Ford! Josiah Redfern, see Citizen Ford in the lobby!"

Josiah removed his security mask, and could be seen grinning. "Here we go! This is what Samantha wanted to prevent. Come on, and see the moment of truth!" So the two men hastened to an elevator.

When they emerged in the lobby, there was Daffodil -- accompanied by Harmony Havens and Wilson Havens. Both boys were suddenly tongue-tied; but Harmony supplied the boldness, asking: "Mr. Redfern, would you object to having your DNA scanned to see if you might be related to anyone I know?"

 
"It so happens I've been _waiting_ to be asked," replied Josiah, "ever since an unexpected talk I had with Daffodil's ever-so-elegant mother. Daffy, we'll double this procedure for surety: my dataphone as well as yours."

Daffodil was silent for a moment longer -- staring with a stare that was not quite joyful, but certainly was not horrified. Brendan took over the job of breaking the silence, addressing the hesitant adolescent: "Young man, you look as if you wanted to say, 'Doctor Livingstone, I presume?' "

Daffodil shook himself out of his paralysis. "I never heard of a Doctor Livingstone."

"Daffy went to public schools," Wilson interjected. "They didn't want him to know that Livingstone was a white man who was on _friendly_ terms with native African tribes."

Keeping his eyes on Daffodil, Brendan tilted his head toward Wilson. "Yeah, what he said."

Josiah, who by now had his dataphone in hand, picked up from there. "David Livingstone was a British missionary in the part of the world where I live now. When he was missing, a man called Henry Stanley searched for him and finally found him, leading to what used to be one of the most famous greetings in history. That was before it was mandatory to make Western civilization the villain in everything."

Daffodil nodded. "Okay, I get it. And yes, Mr. Redfern, Mr. Hyland's implication is correct: _I've_ been searching for someone for a long time, or at least wishing I _could_ search. Denise Heathcock had a dream about you before she even met you, and she said you looked like me. And what you call 'an unexpected talk' must have been the same event that was gossiped to me by my friend Pinwheel: that my mother saw you on the street and ended up running from you as if the DeathstructionCorp mercenaries in the new movie were chasing her."

The man and the boy both held their dataphones within a quarter-meter of the other, set for DNA detection. As they did so, Josiah remarked, "The _reason_ why Miss Ford ran from me on that occasion was because, under the un-inhibiting influence of Wonderflexin, she had slipped and _told_ me where she got the male chromosomes to make you. Believe me, I had already noticed your resemblance to me, though I swear to God that I knew nothing about my chromosomes being taken at the time it happened. But now, there's no more cause for the hesitation you spoke about so intelligently at the restaurant." He looked for the instrument indication of DNA being categorized; Daffodil took the same look; and a long four seconds later, both dataphones had the readings.

Brendan, Harmony and Wilson had all been silently praying during this.

Daffodil and Josiah looked each other in the eye, then both looked back at their indicators. The boy spoke first: "Mine says that you _positively_ are a blood relative of mine: either my father, my uncle or my brother."

Josiah's broad smile returned. "I've got no brothers, only a sister named Tiffany; she married my wife's cousin Zack, and they're safe in Alchatka now. Nor am I your brother, though I'm flattered that your scanner thinks I look that young." Now he held up his dataphone. "This is a more advanced model than yours. It says, plain and direct, that YOU ARE MY SON."

Daffodil's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. "Sir-- Mr. Redfern, no, not that now-- I don't know what to call you! It isn't _your_ fault that I can't address you as Caregiver."

"Dad or Papa will do, if you feel able to be that casual with me. Otherwise, Father's fine too."

Daffodil's hands hovered indecisively in front of him. "Father, for the moment. I would want to hug you, except... except that for as long as I can remember, my mother's been telling me that my most intense positive response to a man should be something _very_ different from a son-to-father feeling." He glanced sidelong at Wilson. "On the other hand, Wilson here hugs _his_ father all the time, as does Harmony with hers. You know, Father, I want you to be friends with the Havens family. They've made it _possible_ for me to meet you and-- that is, to meet you and be _able_ to feel what I _ought_ to feel." He pocketed his dataphone, still hesitant.

Josiah handed his dataphone to Brendan, so the latter could see the DNA readout for himself. "Daffy, I know enough about you to say that I'm _awestruck_ at just what a _great_ kid you are, given the kind of odds they rigged up against you. So please accept the word of a soldier and a Christian, that _this_ is intended in _exactly_ the way it should be."

At that, Josiah pulled the taller but lighter-built boy into his arms, squeezing him close. It took scarcely over two seconds for Daffodil to start hugging back; it took even less time for Harmony's eyes to begin pouring out sentimental tears.

Two male hospital employees were walking through the lobby just then. Seeing Josiah embracing Daffodil, they looked as if they wanted to make some snide remark; but then they noticed Brendan glowering ominously at them, noticed that he wore a sidearm like an authority figure, and held their peace.

Relaxing the hug at last, Daffodil expressed one more misgiving. "Sir, if I get to meet your wife, will she be jealous, or will her children be jealous, because I came from a different mother?"

"Not a bit, son. Firstly, although your mother wasn't fertilized until years after my genes were harvested, the actual taking from me--" Josiah choked off that sentence. Although he could now speak openly about _being_ Daffodil's father, it _still_ was a guarded secret that he could know _when_ the chromosome theft had occurred.

Brendan, more accustomed than Josiah was to covert ops, quickly stepped in to redirect the incomplete statement: "Yes, it's a horribly impersonal process, not at all as if Mr. Redfern and your mother had been any kind of lovers. And yes, the collected genetic material can be preserved for long periods. There's nothing for Melody Redfern to be jealous about."

"Nor our children," added Josiah, regaining his calm. "They understand family blending, what with Elijah and Isaiah not being MY physical offspring. All of them will take to you right away, if you get the chance to meet them. Just look at Miss Havens there: she's an adopted child, but I'm sure she enjoys enormous love in _her_ family. Intact biological families, father and mother with their own children, _are_ God's ideal for humanity; but a variant which _doesn't_ contradict the spirit of the original model, can turn out just as good."

"Thank you, Mr. Redfern," said Harmony, who was past the heaviest of her happy weeping. "Hey, Daffodil, have you used up all your hugs?"

When the boy turned from his father to his infatuation, it seemed to himself as if he were only noticing for the first time that he was considerably taller than the Chinese girl. This sensation, plus the affirmation of his worth already declared to him by his newfound father, made him feel a little more confident about embracing Harmony Havens. Though he still was far from feeling bold enough to kiss her by his own initiative.

Therefore, she kissed him... and as she came away from this, it was her turn to wonder just what her own feelings were.
 
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Brendan handed Josiah's dataphone back to the technologist, then drew forth his own. "Here, Wilson, if I keep my hand on this, you'll be able to talk into it. Let me run the call through the local network, then you can be the one to tell your Mom and Papa the good news. We'll go outside for this, while your Aunt Harmony goes with the others to see Mr. De Soto."

"Thank you, sir. And after that, can we call to Casper? Grandma and Grandpa and Aunt Chilena and the rest will want to know about this too." So out the front door they went. As they did so, Josiah led Daffodil and Harmony to the elevator.

Only after boarding did Josiah notice that his son and the young woman were holding hands, themselves appearing unaware of the action. He didn't remark on this in any way, much less ask which of the two had first taken the other's hand. Age difference notwithstanding, Josiah already knew enough about the Havens family to be confident that a Havens girl would be more wholesome company for Daffodil than most companionship the boy was likely to find in present-day America. In fact, the sourly amusing thought of Samantha going ballistic about her son being in love with a Christian girl, was almost enough to make Josiah himself come out and ask Harmony to marry Daffodil.

Miguel De Soto was doing some hand-holding of his own, with Tilly, when the three visitors entered his room. Smiling at the sight of them, the old newspaperman freed his hand in order to write a note. While he did this, Tilly's gaze also took in Daffodil's handclasp with Harmony; but she also let it pass without comment. Now Daffodil made his announcement to the De Sotos and to the bystanding Matti Siermaala: "Guess what, everybody! What everyone in Rapid City seems to have suspected, has now been proven! The missing half of my heredity has been identified, and here he stands-- my _father,_ Josiah Redfern!"

One result of this declaration was that Harmony lost her hold on Daffodil's hand, as Tilly De Soto surged forward to give the boy a hug of congratulations. Matti shook hands with both father and son. Daffodil and Harmony did not for the time being rejoin their hands, but they did exchange a smiling glance. Miguel added something to whatever he had originally written. Matti tossed in a technical remark for the new arrivals: "Mr. De Soto's gills did very well during today's treatment. We had a blood aerator on standby, but he only needed it for two periods of less than five minutes each. Most of the time, his blood-oxygen levels remained adequate without the aeration."

When Miguel's note was completed, he gestured that he wanted Harmony to see it first. She read it aloud: "Harmony, I haven't forgotten that your inspired idea allowed me to live long enough to receive this help. And Daffy, yes, I was one who already guessed Josiah could be your father. If you'll take my advice--"

The young woman suddenly quit speaking. She handed the note to Josiah, who saw what the remainder said, and he showed this to his son. The last part of the note said: "--you'll ask him to get you OUT of America, like yesterday."

Matti could guess what must have been the direction of the unspoken part, and he filled in the uneasy silence: "I think Mr. De Soto is the kind of man for whom being right about something boosts his health."

"Good for him," said Josiah, shoving the note into a pocket.

"Before you three came up," the Professor went on, "Miguel told me in another note that he doesn't feel cured yet, but he's glad not to feel any worse. There's a lot more carcino-suction, that's what I like to call this kind of therapy, a lot more still to do; but Miguel is in high spirits and hopeful."

Josiah looked at his son again. "I'm in high spirits myself. This young man here is worthy to be a sibling to the four fine kids I already had. I think he'll make big footprints _wherever_ he goes in the future."

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

Out in front of the hospital, not far from where Samantha had propositioned her co-parent, Wilson succeeded in reporting the good news, about Josiah and about Miguel, to the Havens households in both Sussex and Casper. Chilena told him in return that she and Dan had just heard from Isadora Cruller about the sneak preview of Sectors of the Heart. This invitational showing, at the Rainbow House no less, had been attended chiefly by high members of the Fairness Party Presidium plus foreign dignitaries (movies, after all, being the leading Diversity States export now). Everyone seemed to have loved it, and President Trevette herself had urged Isadora to plan a sequel. "Which keeps us employed!" Chilena concluded.

Dan got on before the end and said, "Trip Conklin is developing a script under the title Powerplants of the Heart. This suggests to me that with Yellowstone being annexed to the Enclave, the Party may be dropping the policy of pretending that exiles _aren't_ keeping the nation's energy infrastructure going."

Well before Wilson signed off, Brendan spotted a man around his own age getting out of a pedicab nearby. This man, wearing wildly colorful clothes, remained in one place, looking at Brendan and Wilson, as if waiting for the phone conversation to be over. Brendan would have gone at once to find out who the stranger was, if not that he was needed to keep the dataphone working for Alipang's son. As soon as the call was ended, Brendan reclaimed his phone, gave a you-stay-here gesture to Wilson, and strode toward the gaudy man.

"I believe you're one of the medical consultants from overseas?" the man said, offering to shake hands. Brendan shook hands, seeing no need to start out with rudeness, and spoke: "Brendan Hyland, formerly of the United States, now of Nigeria. And you are--?"

"Zimmo Garland, from the Department of Indoctrination. I believe you've met two of the ladies who work with me in the avant-garde cinema: Osmawani Jalil and Samantha Ford."

"I know who they are. Miss Ford was here less than an hour ago, talking with my colleague from Uganda."

"No need to be delicate, Mr. Hyland. My law-enforcement connections advised me, even before Samantha got around to telling me, that Samantha had revealed the fact of Mr. Redfern's paternal-surrogate role in her bioproduct's life."

"Did Miss Ford ask you to come here now?"

"She did, actually. As a veteran of the diplomatic corps, she would feel herself discredited if she left an impression of _hate_ with anyone. Is Mr. Redfern where I could speak with him?"

"Josiah's busy right now, getting to know the son who's been hidden from him for sixteen years. But I can speak for him in this. Neither Josiah nor I have a dogmatic judgment of whether Miss Ford positively _hates_ men, or is _merely_ repulsed by them. She obviously doesn't mind being around you, anyway. As for how Josiah feels toward Miss Ford, I can assure you that he doesn't hate her any more than he lusts for her. What he and I both feel for Miss Ford is pity."



 
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Chapter 108: The Boiling Pot Gets Watched

The Arapahoe midwife, satisfied that Kim was in flawless health, took her leave of a grateful Havens family, taking with her Alipang's promise of free dental care the next time she needed it. Irina Stepanova would be coming by within the next three days to give Kim and Baby Peggy a follow-up examination. Any inclination to post-partum depression on Kim's part was diminished by the joy of good news, when the report reached them by telephone of Josiah Redfern being proven to be Daffodil's father.

It was in this optimistic mood that the Havens family (minus Wilson, who was still in Rapid City) walked over to the Rochefort home, where they were invited to supper. A pleasant surprise awaited them there, in the form of Ransom and Lydia, Lydia's mother Lois Reinhart, Bill and Lorraine Shao... and the ex-convict called Gerbil.

"Fidel North received an order from the Vice-President, no less," Bill told Alipang, "that Lorraine and I, and these others, were to be brought here to join us. He passed word through the Energy Department for Lorraine and me to be given transportation here, and through the Agriculture Department for Ransom and Lydia to be transported."

"Annette and I had already invited Gerbil to eat with us," added Raoul, "because he's been performing so well on the building-repair jobs."

"Thank you, Citizen Rochefort," Gerbil timidly mumbled. "It's more praise than I deserve."

Kim, in a generous mood, stepped up to Gerbil and hugged him. "At least you won't bend our ears by the hour chattering about self-esteem. Try to relax; we're all in the same landlocked boat here."

"Mother and Ransom and I were brought here in a van by a couple of Lyra Bender's Forest Rangers," Lydia volunteered. "We asked why it was so important for us to have supper in Sussex -- not that we object to being with you folks! -- but the Rangers didn't know the reason for the order."

Alipang caught Annette Rochefort's eye and asked her, "If the government wants these extra guests to eat with us, did they do anything about supplying extra food?"

"As a matter of fact, they are doing something. Fidel North is in town right now, and he told us he'd be over shortly with ample food, ready-cooked, courtesy of the modest kitchen facilities at the local federal building."

"While we're waiting for our pink-shirted delivery man," said Raoul, "who would like some coffee? Peter and I both were paid partly with coffee, since neither of our households has even _seen_ coffee in over a year."

Lorraine and Alipang were the first ones to accept the offer. Gerbil was so conspicuously timid about asking for anything, that Annette simply _gave_ him a cup of coffee without waiting for him to ask. Those who were not having coffee, had apple cider or herbal tea. When everyone had something to drink, Alipang set about relaying the news of Daffodil's happy discovery.

Once he had told all he knew, Veronique Rochefort piped up: "Does that mean that Monsieur Daffy will emigrate out of here, the way those Egyptian people did?"

"I don't know, because Daffy himself hasn't even begun to address that question," Alipang replied. "But given Brendan's description of Mr. Redfern, Daffy would be _infinitely_ better off living with _that_ family."

The bizarre behavior of Samantha Ford having been part of the report, Lorraine said, "No one seemed to be upset about Ma'at Wazir and her kids leaving with Bert Randall; but _they_ weren't connected with the State Department. I wonder if Ms. Ford will pull strings to _prevent_ her son from emigrating?"

"I doubt it," snorted Alipang. "She can make her 'edgy' movies just as easily with him gone, as with him here."

Fidel North not immediately showing up, Annette took the meat and vegetables she had originally cooked for the party originally expected, and portioned this food out to the larger number of persons now present in her house, declaring this to be the first course. Mrs. Reinhart assisted her in the serving. They were just finishing the first course when Mr. North arrived, with two other men to help him bring in the promised food, which included three roasted pheasants.

What these men did not bring _into_ the house was what they had just attached to the _outside_ of the house: miniature microphones, able to hear through the walls, and giving better sound quality than more distant sensor devices in penetration mode....

 
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"We're certainly thankful for the gift," said Raoul to Mr. North; "but may we ask what we did to merit Vice-President Anselmo's kindly attention?"

"This gesture is by way of acknowledging the merits of exiles--" here the Pinkshirt supervisor glanced at Bill; "--and semi-exiles, in several situations. For one, Citizen Shao there was helpful to the Yellowstone develoment project by drawing up recommendations of which Energy personnel in this sector were best suited for temporary assignments at the geothermal sites. You, Citizen Rochefort, and those who have been working with you, maintained a high standard of quality in the recent jobs you did for government facilities. Your bioproduct Veronique, along with Dr. Havens and Victor Tomisaburo, brought certain irregularities to our notice, affecting the infrastructure-access network. All of this is known to Citizen Anselmo, and he doesn't want to seem remiss in offering positive reinforcements for good conduct. He had a lot to do with relaxing the restrictions on visitation..."

"And my family is extremely grateful for that," Alipang affirmed. "I can't tell you what a morale boost it's been to be able to have Chilena and Melody here with us, them and their, um, domestic collectives."

"Glad to hear you say so, Dr. Havens. And there's more. Your offspring Wilson, I can tell you, is being a fine, emotionally supportive comrade to Daffodil Ford, as the two of them in turn uphold the spirits of the test patient for that sonic therapy. I frankly don't know whether Daffodil has any notions of emigrating now that he has identified his male chromosome-source; but let me go on with our present subject. You're aware that most of you exiles are granted far more latitude in reproduction than is true for the American proletariat otherwise, as witness no impediment being given to your having this fourth bioproduct of yours. But with so much breeding in progress in the Enclave, the Genetic Health Service can hardly be expected not at least to _observe_ your genetic demographics."

"Naturally. So how does our making new exiles get on the list of our merits in the present context?"

Mr. North pointed at Ransom. "I have in mind Citizen Kramer. By commencing to partner this Amish woman, he has taken a proactive step against unhealthy inbreeding of the Amish contingent. The Genetic Health Service is pleased with him for this." The Pinkshirt could not possibly have been ignorant of the fact that Amish persons (knowing what "partnering" commonly meant these days) would be _especially_ uncomfortable with the insinuation that Ransom and Lydia were putting the honeymoon ahead of the wedding; but he acted oblivious to the offense he was offering to Lois and Lydia.

"Well, we've got our appetites worked up to eat this fine multi-purpose reward you've brought to us," remarked Kim, changing the subject. "Are there any other merits we should know about before we eat it?"

"Yes, a posthumous recognition of sorts." Mr. North suddenly handed an old-fashioned stationery envelope to Lorraine. "This note will explain it, Citizen Sloane-Kramer-Shao. I only beg to insist that you eat the food _first,_ and read the note only afterwards. With that, I leave you all to enjoy yourselves."

"Merci beaucoup," said Annette; and soon the three government men were gone...

...though they only went as far as where a concealed sensor station had been set up within a block of the Rochefort house. Thermal imaging let them see a reasonable view of the persons gathered at two tables in the house. For Carlos Anselmo's benefit, database records of the likenesses of all those persons would be media-shopped with the motions of the thermal images, and with the sound of their conversations being picked up right now, ultimately creating a facsimile of a regular television image. Of course, tiny _actual_ cameras could have been placed _inside_ the house; but it had been Fidel North's judgment that this would have been more likely to be noticed by the exiles, making their words and actions much less authentic and spontaneous.

Mr. North had seen the old movie The Truman Show many times.

Further conversation among the Rocheforts and their numerous guests included minor comments, such as Esperanza Havens guessing that the Pinkshirts might have been grossed out bringing _meat_ to the house. Weightier talk was mostly about Daffodil's finding of his father, and about the progress made in establishing the new Yellowstone Sector. No one in the house was saying anything about the insulting implication made against Ransom and Lydia's chastity. But Fidel North's team was waiting for the real fun to start, when Lorraine Shao would open and read the note he had presented to her.

This note would inform her that she was sitting at supper with the man who, in prison, had stuck a knife in the back of her first husband, and who had slashed the stomach of her elder son.
 
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