The First Love Of Alipang Havens

"Please, I tried!" Formentera wailed. "Don't kill me!"

Jewel was holding Uriel's dataphone close to the captured tyrant. "His voiceprint reads as honest; he did try."

"Well, we'll just have to pray that the Sky Rangers think of something," said Porter.

Kostas turned to look eastward, toward where he and Porter had left their horses. "In the meantime, in the hope that everything _isn't_ lost, I suggest we sling these two former presidents over our horses, tie the others up in one long conga line, and start them walking for Casper." Porter joined him in going to fetch the animals.

Henry tossed a length of rope toward the four surviving Aztlano airmen, telling them in Spanish, "Make a string of beads. You are the beads. You will be marching in single file."

While Henry, Alipang and Jewel were waiting for their two comrades to return with the horses, Jessica Trevette and Emilio Formentera provided them with grim amusement.

"Useless woman! How could you let that Flip take away your shock-rod?"

"Useless man! Why did you pick a traitor like Ybarra? Now he'll blow us all up!"

This turned into an artillery exchange of curses and accusations. It looked like a safe bet that, even if the threat of continental holocaust was averted, the love affair of the two presidents was irrevocably ended.

The aviators were strung together as ordered. Jewel had three sets of wrist binders with her, so she tied the hands of the first, second and fourth man while Henry kept his knife near each man's throat in turn. As for the one aviator for whom there were no binders, Henry broke one of that man's thumbs to prevent him from trying to undo the rope connecting their bodies in line. Presently, Kostas and Porter came in sight once more, leading the horses. Alipang remarked to Henry, "Let's make the presidents sit backwards on the horses, like Dudley Do-Right."

"Like who?" The young Apache had little acquaintance with old animated cartoons.

"Never mind. The point is that I don't think we have enough rope left to make them secure, so by making them sit facing the rear, they can't control the horses to gallop away."

"A lot simpler to make them walk like the others, and let Kostas and Porter stay mounted."

"Well, yeah; I just don't feel right about making Formentera walk after he just got kicked like that."

Hearing this, Jewel scowled. "You feel _sorry_ for that cucaracha?" She had in mind, not a song, but the literal meaning of the word, "cockroach."

"It's a guy thing," Alipang told her. "We men are all scared of getting--"

Before saying anything else, Alipang suddenly swung his rifle up. Shouting "Take cover," he squeezed off his remaining two rounds toward three figures who had just shown themselves on the nearest rise of ground to the west. He didn't hit the newcomers, but he made them duck, which delayed them from opening fire.

When they came back up from ducking, Vitaly Khloponin and his two companions fired bursts from automatic weapons; but Alipang's group and their prisoners had already taken shelter behind the downed presidential jump-jet. Seeing that he could not immediately kill Alipang, Henry or Jewel, Khloponin switched his weapon to single-round fire, and shot farther off-- at Kostas and Porter. Those men dropped to the ground to avoid being hit; but their horses dropped to the ground fatally shot.
 
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Chapter 143: Between Time and Eternity


The other Emilio in the situation, Texas Ranger Aviation Lieutenant Emilio Vasquez, would have been able to save the North American continent all by himself.... if he had been able to keep his light helicopter going as far as the vicinity of Old Faithful. But as he had been drawing close to the former Yellowstone National Park, his dear old Number 343 had come under attack. A stray Aztlano patrol had penetrated the western boundary of the Enclave in the same way as the larger force which had been stopped by Mark and Dana Terrell. They were from a small but pretentious Aztlano gang calling itself Los Espadas-- insisting on the masculine article "Los" despite "Espadas" being a feminine noun, since _they_ were all men. They were riding in what African revolutionaries used to call a "technical": a plain, unarmored truck, but a truck mounting armament as heavy as they could manage. In the case of Los Espadas, their truck mounted a serious 20mm rapid-fire cannon on the truck bed, plus a Russian-type 7.62mm machine gun attached to the roof where a standing man behind the cab could just reach it to load it and fire it.

Sighting the Texan helicopter, the Espadas had opened fire at it with both guns. Unable to evade all of their fire, Number 343 had taken serious damage; but Emilio had gotten a bead on them with his particle-beam projector just in time to save his own life. The single remaining shot in the beam weapon had exploded the motor of the "technical," and killed the two men seated in the cab of the truck. As the stricken truck had rolled off the road, killing one more of its occupants, Emilio's cherished helo had gone down for the count. With trees beneath offering no safe landing, Emilio had bailed out, using the anti-gravity device the Indian spy had given him. It worked, slowing him enough so that when he came in contact with a tree, he was easily able to catch hold of it and control his descent.

One of the surviving Espadas came after Emilio on foot, seeking to kill him as he came to earth. As a result, this man ceased to be one of the surviving Espadas. Emilio shot the man through the head with his sidearm, then grabbed up the man's automatic rifle, with two spare magazines which were there to be found.

Number 343 was wreckage now, but she had taken some of the enemy down with her: a gallant end for a gallant aircraft. As for Emilio, stranded though he was, and having no more heavy weaponry, he still could not allow himself to give up. When he had been spying in Aztlan with Gloria Cervantes, he had seen what sociopaths were in charge of things in the People's Aztec-Maoist Republic. Such men really _might_ blow up the supervolcano, although it meant their own deaths, _rather_ than have to give up their dreams of conquest.

Accordingly, Emilio Vasquez put his anti-gravity device to further use: making superhero-style jumps across hills and ravines, making for Old Faithful and Major-General Ybarra's force of world-champion suicide bombers.
 
When Osmawani Jalil, in much worse condition than her friends had last seen her, was dragged into the presence of Major-General Ramon Ybarra, the self-appointed successor to Emilio Formentera had an inspiration. "Since this ________ has been put to as much use as she's good for, let's make her the first solar sacrifice of the new regime!"

Three ammunition cases were pushed together to form an improvised Altar of Solar Influence. Osmawani, draped across this, didn't even have the energy left to plead for her life.

But others were about to plead for her.

Vance Desmond had been standing with his Amish and otherwise-Christian friends, all helpless at gunpoint. He had been thinking about the difference between an individual person's death, and the death of an entire inhabited continent. Although he and all his family had the assurance of Heaven, it was grievous to imagine every place and person they had ever known being wiped out in one explosion. It was hardly more cheerful to imagine the neo-Marxist neo-pagans from Aztlan claiming rule all the way to the Atlantic Seaboard.

"Dad," came the voice of his teenage daughter Reagan. "You remember how I was healed of that engineered virus?"

"Yes, baby, I remember." Desmond's voice was quavering -- not knowing if what had been done to that Asian woman might also be done to Reagan and Polly. Even to Sheri and Lambert, if they fell into the invaders' hands.

"You have to remember, Dad: our times are in God's hands. I was healed then, so that I would live till _this_ moment. I love you, all of you. Trust Jesus."

Before Vance and Polly -- or the guards -- could catch what was happening, Reagan sprinted toward the makeshift altar, where Felipe Contreras was offering to do the "surgery." And Reagan was not alone. It had entered the minds of Ransom Kramer and Ulrich Reinhart that _they_ had also been spared alive in order to see this moment. The attempt to trick the barbarians into consuming tranquilizers had been a good idea; it just hadn't _happened_ to work. But the older man and younger man who now joined in Reagan Desmond's rush both knew, as Reagan did, that Miss Jalil had never made a decision to follow Jesus; she, accordingly, did not have the same promise of eternal life as the three believers had.

Too late, Vance Desmond and Greta Reinhart tried to restrain Reagan and Ulrich. Lydia was not there to try to restrain Ransom; so, unlike Vance and Greta, she was not clubbed into submission with rifle butts.

Reagan, Ransom and Ulrich all reached the pagan altar at virtually the same instant, all shouting a request that they be murdered instead of Osmawani.

Felipe looked at his leader, who directed him to toss Osmawani -- still living -- off to one side. The three volunteer martyrs were made to sit on the three ammo cases. But for a few heartbeats, an unseen power delayed the Aztlanos from carrying out their pseudo-spiritual sport.

"You cannot succeed forever," declared Ulrich; "and you will have to answer to the _real_ God."

"We have a Heavenly home to go to," said Ransom. "You'll never see it unless you repent."

"If you do repent," added Reagan, "even the murders you have committed will be forgiven. Jesus died even for worse men than you."

Felipe looked as if he might actually be considering taking them seriously. But Ybarra didn't wait for him to make up his mind. Shoving his underling away from the altar, and gesturing for all of his men on the other side of it to get clear, the Major-General and would-be ruler lifted a machine pistol and mowed down all three Christians.

All this time, Peter Tomisaburo had been as powerless as the others in his party, unable to make a move. But now, all of the Aztlano troops were preoccupied with laughing and applauding at the bloodshed. For three of the five men watching the Christian group, that laughing and applauding was the last thing they would ever do in earthly life. Peter had finally gotten his chance to bring his micro-whip into play; and three Aztlano gunmen were suddenly arriving in their place of eternal punishment, before the severed halves of their bodies had finished falling to the ground.

None of the surviving thugs had any idea what had just cut their friends apart; and the startled jumping of many prisoners distracted them. Thus, for three precious seconds, none of the Aztlanos detected Peter Tomisaburo as he began a low-crouching evasive dash for the bomb tower.
 
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Although Osmawani Jalil's heart had not been cut out of her body in Aztec fashion, her already-sustained injuries had brought her near death anyway. So she assumed she was dead when she found herself in a painless place full of joyful music and rich colors.

She could see that some of the other persons captured by the Aztlanos were nearby: Undersecretary Karen Milligan, Forest Ranger Hal Quigley, Amish farmer Ulrich Reinhart, Amish convert Ransom Kramer -- and, shining the most brightly of the group, the girl Reagan Desmond. The first of these souls to be welcomed individually was Ransom Kramer, who was gladly embraced by his father Wilson Kramer and elder brother Quinn Kramer. Osmawani was mildly startled to realize that she was being supernaturally made aware of who those two risen saints were, just as she had been made to know the identity of Reagan Desmond, who was a stranger to her. It was a clue of sorts, however, that Wilson Kramer was wearing what seemed like an angelic version of a United States Navy dress-whites uniform, complete with dress sword.

"Dad! Quinn!" Ransom cried exuberantly as they embraced. "It's so great to see you! Mom was well the last time I saw her; I guess my not seeing her HERE means she's still alive down there."

"That's right," replied Quinn. "She still has things to do down there."

His voice becoming as near to sad as was possible in Heaven, Ransom remarked, "I sure haven't accomplished much. We thought it was an inspiration from God, to offer food with tranquilizers to those gangsters, to prevent destruction without having to kill. But it all came to nothing."

"The effort to do good is never for nothing," his father told him. "When those evildoers have to stand before God and answer for what they've done, it will be pointed out to them that they were given a chance to choose peace, and they didn't want it. Then, supposing them not to have come to repentance, they'll know that their condemnation is just, and they have no right to complain."

Now someone came to greet Reagan Desmond also: a girl about her own age. Osmawani, watching, was made to know that this was the Mennonite girl, Eva Lederburg, who had been wantonly murdered by the Overseer hitmen Vargas and Huddleston.

"You were a brief blaze of light," said Eva to Reagan, "but one that will be remembered, when mortals have peace again TO remember.'

Reagan smiled. "I see the same light in you, also to be remembered below."

Ulrich seemed to be speaking directly to God: "Lord, You know why You called so many of us up here at once; but I must ask You to watch over the dear ones I leave behind."

That was when God's own voice was finally heard:

"My good servant, your family is not as greatly bereaved as you suppose. Ransom Kramer is to be sent back to Earth, to live his full span of earthly life, and to sire descendants of his human father, nieces and nephews of his brother."

Looking torn in feelings about going back to Earth, Ransom glanced at his relatives. Wilson told him, "Quinn and I were defenders; you are a builder, and your service is only beginning."

Quinn smiled. "We'll still be around when you get up here again. And we'll be able to see you and Mom and Bill down there in the meantime. Greet both of them for us."

No one had spoken so far to Osmawani; she wasn't sure anyone was aware of her presence. But her own spirit grew painfully conscious of just how distant her way of life had been from the design and purposes of the Creator. She shuddered with fright when God's voice did after all reveal His knowledge that she was watching and listening; but the fright was not to last long.

"Behold, Ransom Kramer, that brave woman who is known to many of your friends. She is not ready to enter here yet. In large part by the fault of others, she has lived in dark ignorance, but her heart wishes for the light. Even in her habits of carnal sin, it was really My love she was searching for. She is part of My reason for sending you back to Earth. Not only do I choose for you to have a full human life with Lydia and the others down there who love you; I also intend for you to bear witness of your short visit to Heaven. Let those who grieve over these departed ones --especially Reagan's parents, who feel needless guilt for her death-- be comforted by your report that you have seen these souls being welcomed into glory. Even that older woman who served evil tyranny, having asked for My forgiveness before it was too late, is welcomed.

"Once you are in your body again, when you have the chance, you must make sure to tell Osmawani Jalil that she did not imagine any of this. Tell her then that you know she truly was here, for you saw her here. Now, trust Me that all is well with Ulrich, Wilson, Quinn, Reagan, Eva, Karen and Hal. You will shortly resume your service to Me on Earth."

The scene faded from Osmawani's eyes and ears. Everything faded, and for an instant she believed she was now dying the death expected by atheists, a fall into non-existence.

But she had not ceased to exist. She simply was back in her badly wounded material body, and would need medical attention before she could ask that young man if he had REALLY seen the same things she had seen.

 
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Back at the airplane crash site, Henry whacked one end man of their string of prisoners on the head with a rifle butt; Alipang followed his example, the butt-stroke being his last use for his empty rifle. Henry then clapped a hand on Jewel's shoulder. "Try to pin them down, so our friends can get back here! Al and I will flank them!"

Alipang salvaged Emilio Formentera's dropped sidearm. To test it, he held it up over his head, in such a way that it could fire past the airplane fuselage, while his own head was to one side as well as beneath. A single round expended in the direction of the enemy satisfied Alipang of two important facts: that the pistol was not DNA-coded to work only for its owner, and that there was no trick to it that would make it explode or shoot backwards when he fired it. Henry was already crawling and rolling and snaking off to the right of their position, so Alipang went left. Jewel, securing one of the fallen Aztlano rifles, began wasting ammunition like an action-movie star, keeping the newcomers' attention on her and making them keep their heads down. As soon as the weapon she was firing went empty, she started right in with the spare one.

Kostas and Porter understood that they were being given their chance to dash forward and rejoin Jewel in cover. Porter took the risk of rising more fully than Kostas did, thus making better speed. One enemy bullet grazed him, but not badly; and in another instant, he was to be glad that he had risked his upright sprint.

Jessica Trevette, momentarily forgotten, made a break for liberty -- as far as where another of the Aztlano rifles lay. She swung it up to her shoulder, intending to shoot Jewel in the back; but Porter caught her just in time. Not feeling as chivalrous as Alipang, the African-American Grange huntsman socked Jessica in the jaw with an unrestrained fist, and Jessica was definitely out of action for an hour at least.

Before Porter could complete his rush to cover, a second bullet hit him -- still not a fatal wound, but serious enough that he could hope his own contribution up to now would be enough. As he slumped into place near Jewel, Kostas brought up the rear, and also brought up the rifle Jessica had briefly held.

Alipang and Henry both noticed that a friendly had been wounded; so, having held their fire up to now, they both began shooting at the three enemy marksmen, to take some heat off their friends behind the crashed jump-jet. Alipang was more sparing of his ammunition, having no reloads for the pistol; but between them, he and Henry succeeded in suppressing their adversaries' fire for a minute. This allowed their friends to regroup. Kostas handed the rifle he was holding to Jewel, so she could keep up the shooting from her position; then he concentrated on first aid for Porter.

But presently, Alipang was out of bullets. Sensing a weak spot to attack, Vitaly Khloponin led the two Lagartos accompanying him in a move to their right. They had the advantage of several spare magazines apiece for their weapons, and they made the most of this as they came around the hillock which had been sheltering them.

Alipang, only scantily shielded by a log as he lay on his belly, suddenly felt burning lines of pain furrowing his back -- and more deeply furrowing both of his buttocks, which had none of the skin-toughening. He uttered an involuntary yell of pain, which was to prove helpful, because it convinced Khloponin that whoever was over there was surely dead or disabled. So the former Commander of the Campaign Against Hate, and his gangster companions, continued their charge toward the downed plane, where Jewel and Kostas were now the ones being pinned down.

Henry started over from his side, firing the last rounds from his rifle at the trio who he feared had slain his Filipino friend. He killed one of the two Lagartos; but the other Lagarto saw him, and wounded him in return, while never ceasing his charge with Khloponin.

Alipang was about to try to run to Henry's aid, which would probably have only gotten him killed; but as he rose, Henry saw him before anyone else did, and hand-signalled him to stop. The Apache pointed to his wound; it was in the stomach, which would be fatal if not treated in time, but it would not kill him immediately. Alipang understood Henry's meaning: Deal with the most urgent peril first.

Therefore, Alipang turned to try to creep up on the last two hostile gunmen from behind. His wounded buttocks made it agony to walk, and he had to walk wide if he didn't want to be in his own friends' line of fire when they reacted to the new threat; but he kept going.

It was the Moro warrior who was pursuing his foes now.
 
Up in Yellowstone Sector, Emilio Vasquez had gained skill in the use of his antigravity device as he went; but after getting him across Lake Shoshone and some kilometers more, it ran out of power.

Tumbling to earth, rolling with the fall, Emilio sighted a stray horse, a buckskin mare, unsaddled but with a rope halter on her head. She might have belonged to one of the Grange volunteers, or maybe a rancher. She allowed Emilio to approach and mount her. He had to leave his tablet-shaped flying device behind, because he had no way to hold on to it while concentrating on riding bareback.
If I live, I'll retrieve it. Getting what use he could from the halter, he started the mare on a trot toward the geothermal site near Old Faithful.

= = = = = = = = = =

Peter Tomisaburo's dash brought him close enough to the bomb-guiding tower and its crane that, with his micro-whip at full extension, he could slice through the two main legs nearest to him. His jump to get out of the way of the toppling structure had the added benefit of making a burst of gunfire miss him. When the closest gunmen in their turn also jumped to avoid the crash, Peter was able to charge at them, cutting two more of them in half. This caused enough panic among the Aztlanos that Peter dared to turn his attention to the fusion bombs now lying on the ground. With his micro-whip, he began cutting their detonators off.

Then, one of the few Aztlanos who _weren't_ panicking, Felipe Contreras, drew a bead -- on single-shot, the better to avoid hitting any of his friends -- and put a bullet through Peter's right lung. A second bullet grazed Peter's head as he was falling forward.

Felipe would have closed in to finish Peter, but just then a female Commerce Inspector named Belinda, who had been among the powerplant defenders, saw her chance and tackled Felipe from behind. In an ugly struggle which none of the other alarmed Aztlanos noticed, Belinda was almost strangled by Felipe, but she grabbed the sidearm from his holster and shot him dead with it.

So Felipe Contreras never did get to enjoy his imagined revenge on Samantha Ford and Cassandra Jefferson; but for whatever consolation it was, he did suddenly find himself in an environment which closely resembled what the explosion of the supervolcano might have been like.
 
From her side of the downed jump-jet, Jewel Pressman made Vitaly Khloponin and his last companion dive for cover with snapping single shots. They tried splitting up, to catch her between them; but this led the surviving Lagarto back toward Henry. Far from dead yet, Henry hurled his axe, which fatally cracked the skull of the Aztlano gunman. But Henry had no more strength left to try to take the dead man's gun, or indeed to intervene further in any way.

Seeing himself alone, Khloponin was not frightened, but was enraged at his limited success. He realized he wasn't sure whether Emilio Formentera was even still alive for him TO rescue. He thought of attempting a bluff: telling the Enclave defenders that he had reinforcements coming, and they had better surrender; but given the trouncing that the invading ground forces had suffered, they probably wouldn't believe him. So, instead, he decided to show them what his amplified strength could do.

The first thing it did was to send a stone larger than his own head flying at JEWEL'S head. As the stone came flying over the top of the fallen plane and right at her, the lady Forest Ranger reacted only barely in time to escape death. Her frantic dodge was only partly successful; her head was not smashed like an egg, but the stone drew blood as it knocked her out.

Kostas Demophilos, who had been striving to halt Porter Hennepin's bleeding, was called back to action when Porter shouted "Look out!" while turning his head in the direction of the four tied-up enemy airmen. Two of those four hostiles had NOT been clubbed unconscious at the beginning of the firefight. Of these two. one had his hands tied together; but the other, the one with a fractured thumb, strained to get close enough to Jewel's dropped rifle that he could get hold of it with his undamaged hand. His one conscious friend helped him to pull against the weight of the unconscious ones.

Kostas reached the rifle first, by a quarter-second margin, then kicked each of the defiant aviators in the head to quiet them. This done, he rose and fired a wild burst over the aircraft, in hopes of slowing down the enemies whose whereabouts he was unsure of. Then he crouched to try to help Jewel, while hoping that Alipang and Henry could handle the other hostiles for the moment.

He still was in that posture, when one OTHER enemy who had been counted out proved still active. Recovering from the agonizing kick to his manhood, Emilio Formentera staggered to his feet, and lurched toward Kostas from behind.... until the hidden knife he drew from the back-of-neck sheath inside his shirt was ready. With a shout of "Glory to The Race!" he plunged the knife into the big Forest Ranger's back.

Gasping at the impossible pain that seemed to turn him inside-out, Kostas nonetheless retaliated. Whirling around, he caught hold of El Presidente with his left hand, then rammed the heel of his right hand up under Formentera's jaw -- so hard that he broke Formentera's neck.

As the would-be conqueror fell dead, his vanquisher fell dying. But a voice spoke to him: "Hold on just a little longer, My servant; you will have one more deed to do, and then you shall come home to Me."

It was not because of slothfulness that Alipang had played no part in this deadly drama; his wounded buttocks were slowing him down as he pursued Vitaly Khloponin. But before Khloponin could circle around the crashed planes and get at Porter and Jewel, Alipang hurled his own axe. The weapon struck and disabled Khloponin's rifle, and certainly got Khloponin's attention.

"Turn around, murderer!" Alipang roared, not at all dismayed by his enemy being nearly twice his size. "Your sentence is about to be passed!"
 
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Amid the violent confusion at Old Faithful, the woman Belinda was shot and gravely wounded by one Aztlano; but an instant later, that gunman was pulled to the ground and immobilized by a swarm of Amish farmers, who had spontaneously decided that their non-violent principles were not betrayed by pinning the man flat and sitting on him without hurting him.

Another Aztlano thug tried to grab hold of Polly Desmond. Strange thing, though: having just lost his firstborn daughter, Vance Desmond somehow _didn't_ feel that the Christian faith required him to hand over his wife to the same actively-threatening evildoers. With Polly's screams holding the gunman's attention for a crucial instant, Vance leaped upon him with a sudden massive adrenaline vigor, bore him to the ground -- and strangled him to death.

Major-General Ybarra urged the two men nearest him to come with him and see how many of the fusion bombs were still in usable condition. But the man in the lead paid for the mistaken belief that Peter Tomisaburo was dead. Micro-whip still in hand, Peter needed only a little bit of his remaining strength to sweep the microscopically-thin wire through this man's ankles, dropping him into the dirt with shrieks of agony. Ybarra backed away in a hurry, and the other underling ran in panic, yelling something about magic and demons.

Several more of the surviving invaders, already aware that something mysterious had slain others of their company, joined in the panic, fleeing blindly toward the nearest trees, unheeding of the shouted orders of their self-appointed new president.

Meanwhile, the healthcare personnel from Saint Labre's who had been part of the party offering peace ran to Osmawani Jalil, to stop the bleeding of her wounds and try to keep her alive. It seemed to them that Reagan, Ulrich and Ransom were beyond all earthly help, and in this they were two-thirds right.

Giving up on recalling the stampeded men, Ramon Ybarra saw how many effectives he had left: six men still armed and on their feet. Waving an arm angrily at the confused mass in which others of his men were being overpowered by the prisoners, he screeched, "Matalos! Todos! Matalos!"

Those were the Major-General's very last words prior to his arrival in The Bad Place. A small neat hole appeared in his right temple, and a big messy exit wound erupted from the other side of his head. Before his men could even see where that fatal shot had come from, one more of their number died similarly.

Wearing the suit of a Texas Ranger helicopter pilot with no cowboy hat, but riding like a cowboy hero in movies, Emilio Vasquez bore down on his enemies from the flank, firing single aimed shots as he came. When he saw that his foes had spotted him, he swung his horse to one side, and leaned far down on the side of the animal toward the Aztlanos, still shooting. Two bullets from a poorly aimed burst wounded the brave mare, but Emilio killed the man who had fired that burst--

And then, just like that, not one Aztlano remained alive in the immediate vicinity, except some who were immobilized or badly injured.

With police instincts, Emilio asked the nearest Commerce Inspector if any other threats were near. She told him of the Aztlanos who had fled northward. So Emilio told her to join in helping the wounded. For his part, he held his rifle in one hand -- with four shots remaining in it -- and used his dataphone with the other hand, to send an unencrypted call on all friendly channels:

"Lieutenant Vasquez, Texas Ranger Enclave Detachment, reporting from Old Faithful! Nuclear threat is temporarily neutralized. Need reinforcements at once! Reinforcements to Yellowstone! Bombs have been captured!"

And the replies began coming in.
 
This is what comes of being distracted by countless real-world problems while writing a novel almost as long as Gone With the Wind. Looking back, I just discovered that I have killed Ulrich Reinhart twice. This, and possibly other inconsistencies, will take some time to correct.

Don't worry, I won't let Alipang kill the despicable Vitaly Khloponin while you're not looking.
 
Well, at least you're following a noble tradition. If I recall correctly, Homer is guilty of the same thing.
 
"Who the ____________ do you think you are?" demanded the former Commander of the Campaign Against Hate.

"Alipang Havens, Grange volunteer! Give up now, and I'll tell you more at your trial."

Vitaly Khloponin had advanced far enough to be able to see the far side of the fallen jump-jet; no one there seemed to be in a shape to threaten him. With no firearms left, he hefted the axe which had just been thrown at him. It seemed like a toy in his grasp. His left hand pulled a knife about the size of Alipang's sheath knife. Alipang, in response, opened the high-tech balisong that Brendan Hyland had given him. Now each man had two weapons.

"No court of weak-kneed Biblicals is going to sentence Vitaly Khloponin!"

"Ah, yes, the great Commander Khloponin. Your assistant thug, Nash Dockerty, liked to barge into churches and bully defenseless exiles. Now he's exiled himself, permanently. If you want to join him in the furnace, you just try me. But if you're smart, you'll--"

Vitaly was in no mood for movie-villain monologues. Roaring like a Wyoming grizzly, he charged headlong. Mindful of the damage done to his mobility by his bullet-wounded hind end, Alipang let the strength-boosted Russian do the work of closing the distance. At the last possible instant, he dodged to his right, staying away from his own axe that his adversary now held. Then, with less bulk to manage than Vitaly had, he reversed, bouncing back toward the bigger man.

Before Vitaly could about-face, Alipang's two knives had opened two gashes in his flak jacket. The hunting knife only damaged the body armor, but the super-hard balisong blade cut deeper, drawing blood.

Vitaly, however, was no stupid brute, only depending on raw strength. Faking a spin to his left, he spun right instead. Alipang's axe, in his right hand, swung in a curve which almost connected with its owner's head. Alipang dove beneath the axe-blow.... only to find that his taller foe had expected just that. A massive boot aimed a kick at Alipang's face. Alipang was only just able to recoil enough to reduce the force of the boot's impact, before he was flung back with his right cheek raggedly torn and bleeding.

Moving with the inertia of being flung back, he rolled twice, then sprang to his feet. He evaded a new rush, without being able to deliver any damage-- then tried a rush of his own, only spinning aside before a fresh sweep of his hatchet could stop him. The balisong darted, and Vitaly's right arm was gored, a thirty-centimeter slice.

But Vitaly was not slowed down. Maybe these enhanced people had a larger blood supply, so they could survive more wounds?

 
The jutting left wing of the nearest downed airplane was only a few paces away, so Alipang backpedalled toward it. With his considerably shorter height, he could duck beneath it much more easily than Vitaly could, and from there he could make the taller man guess which way he would move next.

But Vitaly had a more direct approach. Furious at Alipang for drawing first blood, and able to move quickly when he had no momentum of his own to overcome, he stuck the axehandle through his belt, clenched the knifeblade in his teeth, swung a low kick to make the Grange huntsman back away, grasped the leading edge of the wing with both hands.... and _bent_ the whole wing upward as if it were only a single sheet of thin aluminum.

This move did prove alarming to the smaller man; but it also was a great enough exertion that even a strength-boosted martial artist had to gasp in several recovering breaths after doing it. Alipang found his own use for this moment of respite: an aileron on the wing had been loosened by the wing being bent out of shape, and Alipang was able to rip it the rest of the way off.

The aileron was about as long as Alipang's height, and handling it was no more difficult than handling a heavy plank. When Vitaly started toward him again, Alipang swung the aileron like a giant sword, its edge aimed at Vitaly's head. Vitaly caught it and foiled the attack; but his hands being busy tossing the object aside laid him open to one of the moves that Yang Sung-Kuo had taught to the Escrimador. Alipang's fighting style had never emphasized kicking; but now, ignoring the pain it caused in his wounded buttocks, he delivered a leaping side-kick into Vitaly's ribs. Then, moving fast enough to get it done before dropping to the ground, he drove in a separate heel-kick with his other foot.

Vitaly bent forward, air gushing out of his nostrils and mouth. Making a rolling recovery, Alipang reversed his roll back toward his foe, and launched a _third_ kick: a vertical roundhouse kick into the big Russian's head.

The knife held in Vitaly's teeth dropped loose. He instinctively made a defensive move before trying to retrieve the knife: a graceless but powerful sweep of the axe after hastily grabbing it from his belt. Alipang got clear, then charged in once more as Vitaly went for the dropped knife, while throwing his sheath knife to wound Vitaly in one thigh.

Vitaly was first to get hold of the fallen weapon; but it had not occurred to him that his adversary could grasp a naked blade with his naked hand and not be injured. The work of the scientists Noreen Verble and Integer Swift was vindicated, as Alipang's toughened palm and fingers trapped and held the razor-keen blade. When Vitaly tried to split Alipang's head with the hatchet, Alipang's diamond-composite balisong severed the wooden haft.

But Vitaly was not out of the fight yet. Using the remnant of the axehandle just like a Japanese yawara stick, he struck Alipang in the face, damaging one eye.

Alipang lost hold of the opposing knife he had been restraining; but he retaliated by leaning in and thrusting his armor-piercing knife through the belly of the big man's armor vest. It stuck there, and was tugged out of Alipang's grip. Vitaly clearly was hurt by the blade now stuck fast in his body; but his fighting instincts held good, and he evaded Alipang's attempt to kick the balisong _deeper_ into his flesh.

Weaponless now, Alipang retreated. The one bright spot was that an impaled leg now slowed Vitaly's movement more than bullet-grazed buttocks were slowing Alipang.
 
Alipang's right eye was the blinded one, and the people gathered on the far side of the fallen aircraft were to his right; so he could not readily see how things were for them, nor did he hear any sound from them. He was too busy right now to swing around and look that way with his good eye.

A dropped rifle came in view, though, and he swept it up. When he tried to shoot Vitaly, the weapon proved empty; but the stock of the rifle served to catch the point of the Russian's knife when he tried to stab Alipang. Leaning in beneath that thwarted attack, Alipang at last got his chance to drive his balisong in deeper, with a heel-of-hand strike. Yelling in pain, Vitaly reached down from above in an attempt to fasten a headlock and break Alipang's neck. The Filipino fighter twisted away barely in time, and did suffer a knee strike to his left shoulder as he evaded.

The strength of his Moro ancestors kept Alipang going, but he would have no qualms about shooting his foe if he could get hold of a gun that still had bullets in it. The silence from his right ominously warned him that Jewel, Kostas and Porter were as unable to help him as was the badly-wounded Henry....

But out of that silence, and out of his blind side, came a crawling shape like something in a horror story. It was actually the quartet of captured Aztlano aviators, still all tied together, but dragging themselves along together to grab at the legs of their only still-active enemy in sight.

Suddenly pulled off his feet by many hands and mobbed by hostile bodies, Alipang reacted faster than thinking. He broke one man's neck in the same way as Vitaly had sought to break his, and clamped his teeth on a hand hard enough to fracture its fingers. But before he could break free completely -- Vitaly Khloponin got hold of him.

Spewing Russian obscenities, Vitaly hoisted the smaller man high, aiming to slam him down for an over-the-knee backbreaker. His grip was too well placed for Alipang to be able to get loose....

But Vitaly was not the only one who could be helped by someone crawling on the ground. Knowing that this was that one more thing he was to do, the dying Kostas Demophilos had dragged himself past the four crawling enemy airmen, and now he plunged his own hunting knife into Vitaly's left foot, right through the boot. As Vitaly howled, and lost his grip on Alipang, Kostas departed his body, knowing that he had done what was needed.

Finding himself tumbling down Vitaly's back, Alipang scissored his legs around the bigger man's neck, hoping to break _Vitaly's_ neck, or at least make him fall down. Vitaly still was too strong for either of these outcomes to occur; but he did stagger off balance in the process of shaking Alipang off.

And Alipang was the quicker of the two in recovering.

Now the tenacity of the Moro jungle fighters made itself known to the former Commander of the Campaign Against Hate -- in the form of two fists, smaller than Vitaly's fists but also harder. They struck and struck and struck, as Vitaly was trying to get freshly squared off. They struck relentlessly, their kinetic impact being felt right through the Russian's body armor. And by the time the big man rallied and got his hands onto Alipang's throat -- it was too late. Alipang had caught hold of his jutting balisong, now tugging it free instead of trying to force it farther in.

Before the deadly stranglehold could kill him, Alipang stabbed up into Vitaly's left armpit. Blood spurting, Vitaly lost his left-hand grip on Alipang's neck; and then the ultra-hard blade opened the Russian's throat all the way across.

It was the same stroke Alipang had used on the second of the first two opponents he had ever slain; and Vitaly Khloponin fell down just as dead as a gangster named Clemente Pasquale had fallen on Christmas Eve of 2008.
 
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Kostas Demophilos was unmistakably dead. One of the three surviving tied-up aviators worked loose from the bonds at last; but this man wanted nothing more to do with the man who had just slain a superhuman foe. Instead, he ran away. In Moro fury, Alipang might have chased him down; but his friends took priority.

Porter and Jewel were alive, and seemed able to survive awhile yet. Alipang didn't like hearing no sound from Henry; but he was the only one of his party able to try to summon help. Remembering Henry's trick with a dataphone on the occasion of rescuing Odette Galloway, Alipang found Jewel's dataphone and made her thumb touch a "General Call" button; he assumed this to be a hasty way of reaching preselected recipients. He spoke into the device:

"Attention, all Enclave, Texan, or Mexican forces! This is Alipang Havens, Grange Association, Wyoming Sector! I am at the site of Emilio Formentera's plane crash-landing, south by southeast of Teapot Creek encampment. Medical help urgently needed, repeat, medical help needed for several friendly personnel! Home on this signal! Grange volunteer Alipang Havens calling for aid at this location, follow the signal!"

Someone had to have heard that. Alipang could wait no longer; he MUST see if Henry was alive. Wounded buttocks notwithstanding, he ran full tilt, leaving the dataphone in Jewel's hand.

Henry was unconscious from loss of blood, but still feebly breathing. In the faint hope that it might still do some good. Alipang tore off his shirt and stuffed it into the gut-wound. Then, his bloody face now also tear-soaked, he begged God to keep his young Apache brother alive. He had been praying for just two and a half minutes when he heard the sound. It was the sound of Great Condor helicopters approaching: three of them, he saw when he looked. Bringing his face close to Henry's, he half-sobbed, "Don't leave me now, Henry, stay here for Huldah!"

And Henry kept breathing. He was still breathing when men in Mexican Alliance uniforms, calling out in Texan voices, came running up with life-support equipment. "We've got him now, it's all right!" one man exclaimed. Another man asked, "Are you Allen Pangayvens?"

Alipang laughed hysterically. "ALIPANG HAVENS-- but yes, I'm the Grange man who called. Someone, please come with me. Other casualties to treat, over this way."

Two of the Texans followed him; and a certain warrior's vanity helped Alipang to continue ignoring his own pain and striding firmly. They rounded the plane-crash site, and Alipang pointed. "That man and that woman both need help. One Forest Ranger is over that way, killed in action. The others you see, living or dead, are hostiles. There's the dead body of El Presidente Formentera, and there's the undeservedly living body of Jessica Trevette!"

= = = = = = = = = = =

Many kilometers to the northwest, two other Great Condors had landed beside Old Faithful, to secure the Aztlano prisoners whom Emilio Vasquez was holding at gunpoint. One Texan man crouched over the seemingly dead body of Ransom Kramer, as some of the Amish folk also looked on.

Ransom suddenly opened his eyes, and spoke in a rush:

"I had to wait to come back until our friend Kostas arrived up there. Kostas told me to tell Pulverizer Clarendon that he has no hard feelings toward her. Now, where's Miss Jalil? I need to assure her that she didn't just imagine it!"
 
Chapter 144: Early Aftermath

At the Teapot Creek transitory camp, Texas Ranger Uriel Morales received the news that Emilio Vasquez and Peter Tomisaburo had thwarted the volcano-bombing threat; also the news that the other Emilio was dead, that his lover Jessica was now under arrest, that Kostas Demophilos had died in action, and that Kostas' companions were all alive but all seriously wounded.

Terrance and Harmony Havens were almost out of their minds with anxiety when they discovered that the vehicle Uriel had driven to bring casualties to the camp for treatment was nearly out of fuel. But just as Alipang's siblings were trying to find two horses that were not too tired for a hard ride, one of the Great Condor helicopters arrived. The helicopter had brought two paramedics with emergency supplies, to help attend to the injured persons here at Teapot Creek. The command pilot assured Alipang's frantic siblings that Alipang, Henry, Jewel and Porter were all under expert care and were expected to survive; but Harmony still pleaded for herself and Terrance to be allowed to occupy the just-vacated seats in the Great Condor, and fly back to where Alipang was.

The pilot, a classic tall Texan, replied, "Well, why the heck not? Everyone in the Enclave is now all finished forever with needing to ask the Transport Police for permission to go someplace. Hop in!"

The swift gunship delivered the two youngest children of Eric and Cecilia to the scene of action in a matter of minutes. Straining her lustrous eyes, Harmony spotted where their elder brother lay on a litter from almost half a kilometer away. Even from this distance, she saw, or imagined she saw, the blood splashed all over Alipang. An instant later, Terrance recognized Henry Spafford in a similar condition.

The electronic-warfare operator on the helo told the passengers, "They've been treating your brother and the others in place to start, but they're almost ready to evacuate them to Sioux San Hospital."

"Why not the hospital in Casper?" demanded Harmony. "That's a lot closer."

"But it's been burned to the ground," said the pilot.

When the Condor landed, Harmony and Terrance virtually exploded out the door, and sprinted to where Alipang lay. "Easy, he isn't going to die!" exclaimed a female paramedic kneeling beside the Moro warrior.

Alipang seemed conscious. Terrance clasped his brother's right hand -- and it came off. Or rather, the armored skin slid off like a glove.

"I'm molting! I'm molting! What a world!" Alipang laughed. "But it's God's timing; the outer skin stayed on just long enough."

"Don't scare us anymore!" said Terrance. "We need you around; since Dad's missing a _whole_ hand, who else will clean our teeth for free? But I'll go see Henry now."

This left Harmony to slide in close, looking out for the intravenous tube, and then drape herself over her elder brother and hero. Not since the old days with Chilena in Smoky Lake had Alipang been so fervently and repeatedly kissed by a female relative. It felt wonderful to have Harmony clinging to him and kissing him now, and he kissed her back as much as he could.

"Forget the teeth," she told him at a pause in the clinging. "I need you here to attend my wedding, if I ever have one."

"You will," Alipang insisted; then they kissed again, and yet again. Just before he was taken to a medevac helicopter, he declared, "And we'll honor those who went before us, including Kostas." To the paramedics, he added, "When you take my shoes off, expect my right foot to be shedding skin also. I'll explain about that later."

The medevac flight had so many patients to carry that it couldn't hold Alipang's siblings; but the same Condor they had come in would give them a lift in the direction of Rapid City where the functioning hospital was. Word was sent to Teapot Creek, to confirm for the Havens family and others that Alipang and Henry were out of danger of dying -- though it had been a terribly close call in Henry's case.

Just before they re-embarked on the Condor, Terrance and Harmony beheld a newly-conscious Jessica Trevette, with hands tied behind her, being unceremoniously led to another of the gunships. "Hey, Your Majesty!" Terrance yelled. "Guess what? The collective ISN'T everything anymore!"
 
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The flight to Rapid City took longer, of course. The electronics-warfare operator onboard the gunship was continuously talking by cognitive radio to other Texans, receiving information on deaths, damage, and the capture of enemy combatants. Harmony paid less than half her attention to this, being still full of worry for Alipang; Terrance paid more than half his attention, because of another worry he was feeling.

"Sir, is there a cabin speaker you could put that on? If it isn't secret?"

"No, son, none of it's a secret now, so yes, you and the young lady can hear."

Now both sides of each exchange became audible to Terrance and Harmony. Miscellaneous facts poured into the helicopter and out of the speaker, some facts more meaningful to the Havens family than others. Odette Galloway, and the four male Energy Department workers who had been with her in using heat-projectors to slow down the invaders' armored column, had been found in the hills by Grange volunteers and brought to safety. Odette's girlfriend Fawn Seavers, who had panicked and run away from the infrared-emitter installation without helping, had fallen into the hands of one of the Aztlano tunnel-infiltration squads. What Fawn had then suffered had been almost as bad as what happened to Osmawani Jalil; but like Osmawani, Fawn had survived and was now receiving medical care.

The Montefiori farm had been wiped out of existence by a stray Aztlano missile, but the Montefiori family was safely elsewhere. John Wisebadger was taking charge of initial recovery efforts along the western edge of the Wyoming Sector. The two female church musicians from Casper had both been wounded by stray bullets from a gunfight between Transport Police and members of Los Malignos. The ex-convict nicknamed Gerbil had lost his left arm and left leg in an explosion; Reuben Torvill, who was caring for him, expressed hope that Gerbil would live to have prosthetic limbs fitted. The Fairness Party bureaucrat Whipstrike Diamond, emerging from the underground government shelters inside Harney's Peak, and seeing that the Distribution Undersecretary still _refused_ to come outside or do anything useful, had attempted to declare herself the sole acting ruler of the Western Enclave. Texas Rangers, Forest Rangers, Transport Police, Commerce Inspectors and Grange volunteers were unanimously and completely ignoring her.

Then came the news from North Dakota Sector. A holding camp had been set up in and around the town of Gascoyne, taking in several thousand exiles from the areas more directly threatened by the Aztlano invasion. But Gascoyne had not been a safe refuge after all. The Aztlano jet fighters which had escorted Major-General Ybarra's extortion force flying into Yellowstone Sector, when released from that job, had gone as planned to attack some target of opportunity before their fuel and ammo ran out. The holding camp was their opportunity.

Eighty-two civilians had been slain in that air strike. In sudden tension, Terrance begged the electronics man to find out more casualty information. The information soon was forthcoming. Among the dead in Gascoyne was the entire Forrester family from Sussex.... including Jillian, Terrance's girlfriend.

Terrance fell silent, as Harmony leaned over to throw her arms around him. The continuing report on Gascoyne revealed that the Aztlano pilots, running out of fuel even as they were enjoying the slaughter, had come down within easy reach of the surviving victims. Not one of those murderers had lived for more than three minutes after coming to earth.

Terrance was unable to speak for the rest of the flight, but acknowledged his sister's commiseration by returning her embrace. When the Great Condor touched down close to Sioux San, Terrance regained his voice: "Gentlemen, thank you for bringing us here. Harmony, I love you very, very much. Let's go see to the living; I'll be grieving soon enough, and long enough."

= = = = = = = = = =

Meanwhile, still stranded at Teapot Creek, Kim, Wilson, Esperanza and Brendan Havens were helping as they were able in the care of the wounded fighters who had been brought in by Uriel Morales. Cecilia the Elder was sticking close by her amputee husband, while Felicity Waddell temporarily watched Baby Peggy. They all knew that their side had won, but they were far from knowing a complete casualty list.

Little Brendan suddenly asked his sister: "Essie, does this mean we'll all get to drive cars?" Brendan was too young to remember what it had been like for individual civilians to be permitted to own vehicles privately. What had been commonplace for Americans not long ago was like a myth to Brendan.

"I don't know, Brennie. But I don't think we will."



 
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Osmawani Jalil knew that her visit to the front porch of Heaven had been real, because Ransom Kramer had verified that he had been up there with her. Within a minute after the Amish convert had hastily told her this, some unfamiliar man with a medical kit had sedated her. In this condition, she had a dream which WAS only a dream, but it certainly was vivid.

She dreamed she was in the middle of what looked like a garbage dump. Mixed with ordinary garbage were copies of Trip Conklin's "Churchbusters" novels, and what seemed to be posters for the "edgy" movies that Osmawani and Samantha Ford had acted in under Zimmo Garland's direction. A smell of smoke drew her attention to a huge barbecue pit. Gathered around the fire were the hideous "Nazi mutants" she had pretended to fight in the live-action "Churchbusters" show in Casper. What they were cooking.... was a screaming man, Trip Conklin himself.

Cutting through the screams came a voice that seemed clean and healthy, a voice that filled her with sudden love and hope. "Osmawani! Over this way, quick!" It was the voice of David Randall Redfern, formerly Daffodil Snugglypooh Ford. "You don't have to stay in this dump. You and I have parted, but we can still share the thing that matters most."

David had somehow grown much taller. Extending a hand, he helped her to climb over some kind of barrier. The screams and the smoke ceased. Now Osmawani seemed to be lying down. David was fluffing a pillow under her head; then he changed into a much older, darker-haired, unfamiliar man, and said to her:

"Miss Jalil, it's time for your medications."

"Who are you?" the Malaysian sexpot asked.

"My name's Tadeusz Nowicki. I'm one of the rehab therapists who were working up at Saint Labre. Part of the staff of Sioux San fled from the Enclave three or four days ago; so now, since the Texas Rangers are bringing casualties in from all directions, most of the Saint Labre caregiving staff has been flown here too, to fill the gaps. Doctors Paniagua and Robles are here. Saint Labre is being used for persons with only minor injuries, who only need a place to recuperate. Sarah Highbranch, and those two ex-Pinkshirt ladies who had been working there, are in charge of that activity."

"I gather that this means we're in Sioux San. What about my Rapid City friends? The people from the Blue Moon Orchestra? Were any of them killed?"

"I don't know if any of them were killed, but I do know that a few of them got slightly hurt in some explosion or other. And one of them is actually serving as a nurse's aide on this very floor: the singer who calls herself Omnipotence Cortez. She's been very anxious for you to recover. You know, of the people who defended Spirit Smoke and Thundering Mist, of those who didn't actually DIE, you were by far the worst wounded."

Osmawani nodded grimly. "I believe it; I was there to feel it. But I'll want to talk to Omnipotence very soon. Another thing: since you're from Saint Labre, you must know the old nun who was stationed there. Did she come to Rapid City also?"

Mister Nowicki smiled. "She sure did! Sister Arabella is a real caution; she's completely regained her ability to walk, and hurries around helping wherever she can. The crisis appears to have made her ten years younger. Not that she wishes anyone to be harmed, of course; but since there IS a crisis, she seems to derive a fresh life-force from being ABLE to help those in need."

"She sounds like just the woman I want to speak to. Could you please tell her, after I've taken my meds and used the bedpan, tell her that I want to see her?"

Soon, accordingly, the ancient-looking but strong-spirited Sister Arabella sat beside the former porn star's bed. "What can I do for you, Miss Jalil?"

Determined not to lose her nerve now that she had come this far, Osmawani blurted out: "I want to become a nun!"

 
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Sister Arabella's eyes widened comically. "You _what?_ Forgive me, of course any woman who has a calling from Our Lady can become a sister; but why exactly do you desire this?"

Osmawani summarized her out-of-body experience for the elderly nun, concluding: "Now I _absolutely_ know that God is real, and that He _doesn't_ hate me for the gutter-crawling life I've lived. I want to serve Him, but considering what a sexual appetite I have, I think I need to renounce all of that, so I'll be _able_ to focus on the Lord."

Collecting herself, Arabella told the younger woman, "Listen, here's what we'll do. When the continent is stable again, I'll find a way to communicate with the Nigerian Vatican. America -- in whatever form it'll take now -- needs a lot of rebuilding, and there's every reason why Mother Church should have a hand in it. What I'll send to the Holy Father is a request to form a new lay order: women who will work _with_ nuns, without themselves being required to swear celibacy. If you can become part of something like that, you'll be serving God, yet still having time to seek His will about whether you _really_ belong in a convent."

"Thank you, sister. Now, do you have time to teach me any prayers?"

Arabella smiled. "There's always the Our Father."
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

These things were occurring on the day after Emilio Vasquez had thwarted the apocalyptic schemes of the late Emilio Formentera.

At Natrona Airport, Frodo Von Spock had been placed in command of a dozen civilian volunteers, anyone who was unhurt and capable, to start clearing wreckage and assessing damage to the buildings and other property. Remembering the job he had held at the big recycling center, Frodo was directing his crew to separate the rubble into types: metal, plastic, and so on. This work was moving fairly efficiently when a female Texas Ranger came up to former cult leader: Perlita Ramirez, whose mind had been cured of the enemy tampering which had turned her and several others against the Rangers.

"Frodo, has anyone told you the latest from President Atkinson?"

"No, Ranger, it's hours since I've been close to anything electronic that _isn't_ smashed into scorched junk. What happened?" His workers also paused to hear whatever news Perlita might relate.

"Atkinson came out of hiding in the Chinese Embassy to give a media conference. She said that because the Western Enclave _disobeyed_ her by resisting the invasion, she is rescinding her promise to allow you exiles to elect your own local leaders. She went on with the usual: diversiphobes and fascists threatening to undo all of the Fairness Party's good work, but the collective would prevail, blabbity-blab."

Frodo was dismayed. "Can she do that?"

Perlita laughed. "She _thought_ she could.... for about half an hour. But a _real_ president, President Monica Sotero, has just put Atkinson in her place. President Sotero announced that since the Rainbow House wanted the Enclave to surrender to Aztlan, and _Aztlan_ has itself been conquered by the Mexican Alliance in support of indigenous peoples on Aztlano soil, it follows that, by Atkinson's own action, the Enclave now is a possession of the Mexican Alliance!"

Frodo's workers broke out cheering.

"So Megavolt Atkinson has no more say, _ever_ again, about what happens in the Enclave," Perlita continued. "And President Garcia has gone on streamcast also, to declare that geographical common sense calls for the Enclave to become _Texan_ property!"

Overjoyed, Frodo exclaimed, "Well, measure me for a cowboy hat!"

"Mexico will directly rule what _was_ the People's Aztec-Maoist Republic, with the leaders of the Indian nations forming the new local governments. Ricardo Formentera and his sister Lupita have already taken refuge in Bolivia. We are now literally standing in Texas; and the Mexican government will guarantee free passage through its territory for people to move back and forth between Old Texas and New Texas. The totalitarians of the world _wanted_ the former Southwestern United States to be taken over by Mexicans, but the _kind_ of Mexicans now doing the taking over are sure not what our enemies wanted to see in charge!"

Frodo, who had not enjoyed any pleasing female contact for a long time, was so carried away with exuberance at the happy news, that he grabbed the lady Ranger and kissed her.

Perlita Ramirez didn't punch him, nor even get angry. "I'll give you that one for free, in honor of the occasion. But next time, ask for my permission."

 
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