0300 Book 3 - 18. Chapter 18: It's Hard to Keep a Secret

Chapter 18: It’s Hard to Keep a Secret

We could not hide our invasion of the Reverends’ territory for long. The destruction of Mt. Zion should have stirred things up; but as far as we could determine, the only people who really understood what that meant were some survivors of the Arcana and the scientists in Chicago and Miami, and even they weren’t sure what to believe except that they were under attack.

Whether he personally believed it, or not, the Scudder proclaimed that it had been an act of God. The common people swallowed that and so, it seemed, did the Sheriffs and the Army. That wasn’t hard for us to understand: the Reverends had fed them lies and myths for so long, and had suppressed any facility for critical thinking, that they’d likely have believed in the Tooth Fairy, too.

We knew that eventually we would have to deal with the Reverends’ hierarchy as well as the Pan-Asians and the Mujahedeen. We were allowed only three months before this came to a head, but we were prepared.

Even before the news of our activities broke on the Reverends’ world, and following the model developed for “softening up” the Reverends’ territory, we made sure the Pan-Asians knew about us—at least, what we were capable of. We put a satellite in synchronous orbit over Malaysia, and broadcast video showing the destruction of Mt. Zion. Based on what they learned from captured video equipment in the Reverends’ territory, Marty and his sigint team found ways to block central signals without having to lock out the microwave network. We didn’t do that, too often, however.

And, we recruited the Australians.

* * * * *

Noah was terrified. His mouth was dry and his tummy was jittery. He had been injected as a humint resource during his team’s initial analysis of the Aussies of F-U, and had met a couple of people he thought might become friends. Now, a few months later, he was going to visit them again to tell them he was a Lieutenant in a Fleet that had spaceships and that we were the people responsible for what the Aussies had been seeing on their televisors, courtesy of our new broadcast satellite. That was quite a burden for a fourteen-year-old boy.

I pulled him aside when he reported to my Ready Room and gave him a hug. “You’re going to do fine, Noah. You kept your head when I threw Team Australia at you; you’re going to do just as well on this mission.”

His stomach had settled, but his mouth was still a little dry when he presented his plan for first contact with Australia to key staff and me. Tomorrow, he’d brief the Task Force.

“There will be six of us. That’s small enough not to frighten people, large enough to provide all the skills and security we need.”

Besides Noah, the team would include Alberto, the boy the GWGs had rescued during war games on the Yucatan a few years ago, and Concho, a native of Long Island but who spoke like a kid from Brooklyn, and who wanted to be called “C.” A new kid, Colin, a meta from Ireland who had been picked up by one of the “Press Gangs” would fill out the team. Colin with his fiery red hair and pale white skin, Alberto with black hair and brown skin, and “C” with white hair and café-au-lait skin were perhaps the three most unlikely of the geeks to blend in with the homogenous population of Australia.

“Alberto, Colin, and Concho are going to help the Australian people understand that there’s a big world out there—and up here,” Noah said. “We’ll also take two of the younger Marines. I hope we don’t need the Marines—except to buy the beer.”

The kids—all metas—grinned, and then snapped shut their minds. I knew I had to answer that thought.

“I know that Noah and some of the other youngsters sampled Aussie beer during the earlier humint missions,” I said.

And I know that you got hold of a couple of kegs during the field day at Yucatan, and shared it, and that some of the kids got a little more than just buzzed, I sent to Noah, privately. Had you not made sure they were watched over and protected I would have been extremely upset. Noah blushed, and then grinned, ’cause he knew what I was going to say.

“Guys? You’re going to be risking your lives. Not just on this mission, but as long as you are in Fleet. You’re not old enough, but you are wise enough to do that. You know and accept the risk. You are also wise enough to drink beer, and you’re smart enough not to drink too much.

“You are smart enough, aren’t you?” I asked.

Noah and the other youngsters nodded their heads vigorously. There were some grins, but I scanned and found seriousness and understanding. Kids!

“You’ve selected the Marines?” I asked.

Noah called in the Marines, who had been waiting for his summons, and introduced them.

“Sir, the other members of the team are Lance Corporal Kennedy, from Adelaide, and Private Hancock, from Sidney,” Noah said.

The two Marines remained stiff, even after I invited informality. That was a conundrum, but one which I had encountered before. I was pleased that the Marines maintained formality. It was part of what it meant to be a Fleet Marine. On the other hand, I saw that the Lance Corporal and the Private were not only boyfriends themselves, but that they had formed a mentor bond with Noah and the metas on Team Australia. As long as Noah could deal with that, I was okay with it, and let Noah know.

“What’s your plan?” I asked, with an it’s time to cut to the chase message to Noah. He didn’t disappoint me.

“Re-establish contact with some of the people I met, before. Scan them as necessary, and identify links to the people in power—their government. Get introductions to people who can lead us to people who can lead us to the people in power. It’s like the Six Degrees of Kevin game that we play sometimes.

“Establish a relationship with the government, which we know not only wants freedom from vassalage to the Pan-Asians, but also is beginning to understand the message of the Enlightenment.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” I said. “What happens next?”

Noah continued. “Our strategy will be best served by equipping the Aussies with cargo ships rather than warships. There’s a lot of opportunities for legitimate trade with the Pan-Asians, and later the people of the liberated Reverends’ territory. On the other hand, we want the Aussies to help us deal with the Pan-Asians, who have a lot of warships.

“We will need a bunch of cargo ships equipped with shields and radar—good radar—and armed with HE rockets with pyrotechnic loads—just to impress the Pan-Asians with what they could do. They’ll also need good anti-missile and anti-ballistic shell defenses—to impress the Pan-Asians with what they can do.

“The Pan-Asians have managed to block any Australian shipbuilding, so the first ships will have to come from us. The Aussies have heavy industry, so it won’t be long before they can build their own ships. We’ll still have to continue to help with defensive weapons and shields, though.

“We’ll need additional help in establishing diplomatic relationships between Sydney and Formosa.”

“Walk softly and carry a big stick,” one of Cory’s people said. Sounded like he was quoting someone, but I’d not heard it before.

Corporal Kennedy, stiff and uncomfortable in mufti, brought the second round of coldies to the table. That’s it for us, Noah sent his team, and felt their assent.

“You been watching Channel 6?” Noah asked Liam.

“Yeah. They know a lot they shouldn’t know,” the boy answered. “And—I figured this out, myself—they’ve got a bunch of secret transmitters, somewhere.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, if you ain’t in cooee of a transmitter, you won’t get a signal, and everybody’s gettin’ the signal.”

“Did you tell anyone that you’d sussed this?”

“My dad; he’s a lieutenant in the Home Guard. He said he’d tell his boss.”

Second degree of Kevin! Noah thought. “You know the signal comes from space, don’t you?” he asked.

“What? How do you know?” Liam asked.

Here goes, Noah thought, crossed his fingers, and then said, “’Cause I helped put the transmission satellite in orbit.”

“Go on! You’re a nutter, you know.”

“Give me six words, and I’ll have them put on Channel 6.”

“Six words? That’s easy: ‘Noah ain’t got the full quid.’”

Noah nodded. “Now, get the publican to switch to Channel 6, and pay attention.”

The boy stared at Noah for a minute, and then turned toward the bar. “Hey, mate, switch to six, won’t you?”

“They won’t put anything new ’till later,” the man groused.

“Just do it, mate,” Liam said.

As soon as the picture cleared. A kid about Noah’s age appeared. He had a piece of paper. He read, “Noah ain’t got the full quid.” Then he grinned. “But he does.”

The kid winked and said, “And Liam? Noah thinks he’s fair dinkum.” The picture faded, and a rerun of the previous evening’s news broadcast resumed.

“Well f—gobsmack me!” Liam said. “How’d you do that?”

Noah took the pack of playing cards from his shirt pocket and shook out not cards, but an iPhone. “This is like a televisor,” he said. “Except it lets me talk to my ship. They’ve been listening to what we said. The ship is in orbit, too.”

“What was that all about?” the publican asked, but turned away when no one answered. Alberto’s push had something to do with that.

Liam’s father was surprisingly easy to talk to. He accepted his son’s story, including the proof that had been broadcast earlier that day. He agreed that Noah and his team might meet his boss, a regular Army colonel, the next day.

Third degree, Noah thought.

The Australian Army was small enough that the colonel had access to the commanding general, who had access to the Prime Minister. Five degrees, Noah thought while he waited in the PM’s anteroom. I sure hope this works.

“Lieutenant Smith tells me that you are a great deal more than you appear to be,” the PM said after shaking Noah’s hand. “He tells me you are the Noah mentioned on Channel 6 at 11:42 AM yesterday, and that his own son is the Liam addressed a minute after that.

“Oh, yes,” he said in response to Noah’s raised eyebrows. “We monitor the channel continuously. And we have already determined that the signal comes from space at a point over the equator. That you knew that was another proof of your bona fides.

“What do you want?” The man cut straight to the point.

Noah took a breath, let it out, relaxed, and listed the points that had been hammered out between Commodore Stewart and the diplomats from Geneva.

“An alliance with the people of Australia based on mutual trust and benefit. We know that trust may come slowly; we’re prepared to accept that. We know that the benefits may be a bit one-sided, initially; we’re prepared to accept that, as well.

“Second, your help in creating an alliance with the Pan-Asians.”

Noah held up his hand to forestall the PM. “We know,” the boy said, “that you want out from under their thumb, and we don’t mean an alliance that will keep you there. We want the alliance among the three of us to be based on trust and mutual benefit.

“Third, your agreement to base your government on the principles of the Enlightenment—we know you are moving in that direction, and we hope that you will be an anchor for a world government that shares those values.”

The PM sat silently for a moment. Then, “That’s all?” he asked.

“Actually,” Noah said. “I’d like to know what we can trade for a bunch of Aussie beer. It’s awesome! Better even than back home.”

It took much longer to explain what back home meant than for the PM to agree to the proposals Noah had outlined and to agree to host a delegation of diplomats in the immediate future. And it took only two months to build cargo ships to Noah’s specifications. The first open contact with the Aussies was made considerably easier when a fleet of these ships steamed into the Sidney harbor, with a bunch of Noah’s Aussie friends as their crews.

Formosa

The boys wanted to send the Enterprise, but that would have been too much of a big stick. The destroyer Qin Shi Huang, with her name boldly painted in both Roman letters and Chinese characters, hovering 10 yards above the water, escorted the Aussie merchant fleet on their maiden voyage to the Qiajin Harbor when we made first contact with the Pan-Asians and introduced their former vassal state of Australia as our allies.

The Aussie ships were loaded with rice, wheat, and low-sulfur coal. Not as gifts, although we knew that a drought had created famine in some regions of the Pan-Asian Hegemony, but to be traded for machinery, electronics, luxury goods, and—perhaps more important—diplomatic relationships.

Team Pan-Asia had warned us that the Pan-Asians of F-U were very proud of their history, and very sensitive about their image and prestige. We kept that always in mind. It was not hard to find things to praise about their culture. We sought diligently to establish trade on fair terms, including offering to continue food shipments in return for access to their televisor networks.

I think the Pan-Asian leadership realized that this access would be the beginning of the end for their autocratic government, but they were considerably more pragmatic than had been the Inquisition. They were favorably impressed that we knew a great deal about their history, including their invention of paper and the compass, and the first-ever recorded observation of a super nova. But our friendship was sealed when one of our people, an archaeologist, dropped a hint telling them where to excavate to find Qin Shi Huang’s Terracotta Army.

A carefully orchestrated visit for their leadership and the Aussie PM to our world, including a reception attended by the entire Fleet Council, was actually anticlimactic after that.

In reciprocation for that diplomatic reception, I was invited to a banquet on Formosa to celebrate our alliance. The people from Geneva gave me all sorts of advice, including how to eat the chicken head that would probably be presented to me at the dinner. It was some sort of symbolic delicacy. I thought of the rations we’d eaten while in training in the mountains of British Columbia, and shrugged. As long is it’s not chicken feet, I thought.

The chicken head wasn’t a problem. The problem came when I was introduced to the son of Party Chairman Quan.

“Commodore, this is my son, Quan Chang Chu. He is sixteen, and he is a student of science. It is my hope that he will learn from you.”

The Chairman had slipped in another requirement for our friendship.

That was not, however, what I thought of. What I thought of was that this Chang was my friend from Hong Kong, the boy for whom I’d learned Cantonese and with whom I’d spent many nights as a young teen engaged in oral sex. Couldn’t be. That Chang would be 20, 21 years old, now. But except for the difference in age, they could be twins!

I grasped for something to say. “Chu, means scarlet red, and is the name of emperors,” I said. “I know that your country no longer has emperors; however, I understand the symbolism.”

“You know our language?” the boy said. It was only then that I realized I’d spoken in Cantonese.

“I’ve not had opportunity to speak it in many years,” I said, “and I speak poorly, I’m sure.”

The Chairman was more surprised than his son, but managed to tell me how well I spoke. “Your accent is more liquid than ours. I suspect you learned in Hong Kong.”

“You are correct, sir,” I said.

“We are all full of surprises, are we not?” Chang said. Then, perhaps emboldened by the exchange between his father and me, he asked, “May I visit you on your spaceship some day?”

There was a hiss as the Chairman drew in his breath through his teeth, but I forestalled whatever he was going to say.

“I think that would be an excellent way to expand our amity,” I said. “Your honored father said you were a scientist, and there is much science for you to see. And there is much science you can teach us, as well. Did you know that your people were the first . . .”

I continued the sentence using not only tidbits that had been impressed upon me by the diplomats but also things I remembered from my time with the other Chang. Although we’d spent nights engaged in sex, we’d spent the days in museums and libraries, and I had a better grasp of the Pan-Asians’ history than even our diplomats.

The Chairman was quite overwhelmed by my invitation (although I realized that was probably his reason for introducing his son) and by my knowledge.

“You are well schooled in our history,” he said.

“Actually,” I replied, “it was a boy from Hong Kong, in my world, who taught me. We were teens, and spent a few weeks together visiting museums. It is a happy memory of my childhood.”

Diplomats from our Geneva bartered with both the Aussies and the Pan-Asians to establish sovereign embassies in those countries in return for positioning their embassies in our Switzerland. The notion of freedom of movement and immunity for diplomats was foreign to them, since they’d not exchanged ambassadors since the middle of the 19^th century. Explaining that was another task I was happy to turn over to the experts.

Chang, however, was a problem I had to deal with—a problem I could not do by myself. As soon as I returned to the Charleston I summoned George to my Ready Room.

“George? You’re in charge of a major planning effort—the rollup of the Inquisition’s forces. You are still the top physicist on the GWG team. You want to lead strike teams, and I’m happy for you to do that when it doesn’t interfere with your first and second jobs.

“Besides, my Little Leopard, you are never so eager as when you return from a mission.” I grinned.

George knew exactly what I meant by that; I didn’t have to send the imagery that formed in my mind, although I’m sure he saw it. The first time George had invited me to enter deeply into him had been the morning after I’d marked his ticklish spots with a chocolate magic marker, mimicking a Leopard’s spots, before licking them off. I knew that he would return from a combat mission with similar eagerness.

“I have yet another task for which I think you are the best qualified.”

I explained that the son of the most powerful of the Pan-Asian leaders would be arriving on a diplomatic shuttle and that he needed a host. “He’s here to study science. And you’re the best member of the GWGs to show him that. He is the son of an important man, and will need security. But his security detail cannot be obvious. You’re the right person to provide that.

“I don’t know if he’s gay or straight. He’s fifteen, and may not know, himself. I know you can deal with either situation.

“Would you form a team—Danny, Bobby, Jonathan, Marty, and Will come to mind—to be his friends and mentors—and his security—for a few weeks? You can trade off responsibilities. That way none of you will have to dedicate 100% of your time to him, and he will get to see different aspects of our science.

“He’s certainly going to be debriefed strenuously when he returns. Our relationship with the Pan-Asians is not yet built on trust. You can show him everything except our AG drive, rift science, FTL and phaser technology from Cory’s world, and atomic science—I don’t want that genie getting out of the bottle on his world, again. Let him know upfront that there are some things he cannot see. Make sure he knows you all are telepaths, but stress that no one will read him.

“Will you do this? And what have I missed?”

“Of course, I will Daddy. What about access to Tobor?” George said.

“Good point: not past Level 5. Oh, and make sure he sees the solar power satellites and the images we get from the Omegas —and then make sure he knows exactly how we do it. If he asks, give him engineering specifications and drawings. And an iPad. We want to impress him, but in no way make it appear that it’s something that his people couldn’t do if they wanted to.”

Three weeks later, I got an urgent call from Danny.

He’s gay, Danny sent. His father knows and approves, but they’re both really scared of what we might think, and of what would happen if we found out. They think we’ll find it—weak? What should I do?

How did you find out, Danny? That could make a big difference in how I answer.

We’d come back from a hands-on, close-up of one of the orbiting solar satellites, and were taking off the skin suits in the locker room when Chang saw two of the boys in the shower kissing—and, uh, groping. Chang got hard as a rock, and blasted me telepathically. I got the whole bit—his sexuality, his father’s feelings, his culture’s ambivalence, and some fear of what his people would think. Wide open!

The boys? Ours?

No. They were crew. They didn’t know, Danny sent. I should have—

No, you shouldn’t have. You couldn’t have known. Where are you, now?

Still in the shower. Chang’s drenching himself with cold water. It’s working, sort of.

Do you want to handle this? I asked.

I don’t think so, Daddy.

Bring him here.

“What did you think of the solar power satellites?” I asked after Danny and Chang had arrived and been served tea and some curled up cookies made from a recipe from our Pan-Asia.

“They are amazing technology,” Chang said. He blushed, and then whispered, “You must think us very backward, despite all the nice things you have said about us.”

“Chang, I meant every word I said. And it’s important that you understand these satellites. Your country will need to create dozens of them to replace the coal-fired power plants in operation, now.

“You have a history that is thousands of years longer than that of my culture. Yet we have had about 300 more years than yours to develop our technology. There’s—”

“Why is that?” Chang interrupted. “Why have you in those three hundred years made greater progress than we in three thousand?”

I understood the depth of his feelings. He would otherwise never have interrupted me.

I described the Enlightenment, and presented it as an alternate way of looking at reality, different from the top-down, rigid government that had grown to feed, house, and clothe his people’s burgeoning and largely agrarian population.

“You think our way is wrong!” he said.

“I think it is not the way I would select,” I said. “I think it worked for you and your people. I think, in fact, that it was the only option for your people at that time. I also think, however, that it may be time for a change. I think that your father believes this, as well, or he would not have sent his most precious son to visit us.”

I pushed a little when I said this, and Chang calmed down. Still, he had objections.

“Even if we were to build such a satellite, we could not place it above Earth as you have. Will you show us how to do that, as well? George has said I may not see the engines of this ship.”

“Quan Chang Chu,” I addressed him formally. “The relationship between your people and mine will ultimately be built on trust. However, we have not known each other long enough to have created that trust.

“I believe that your honored father understands that, and that he has sent you to us as a gesture of trust.

“At the end of your visit, and if your father agrees, I will send one of my sons to him to reciprocate and expand that trust. Still, it will take time. Can you accept that?”

Danny? Yes, Daddy. Our exchange took less than a second; it was settled.

Chang nodded. “I will ask my father if Danny might visit.”

Did he hear us? I wondered, but remembering our promise not to pry, I refrained from trying to read the boy.

“There’s something else we must address,” I said.

“My son, Danny, is gay . . . homosexual,” I said. “As am I and as are many of the boys you will encounter on this ship or any ship of our fleet.

“Homosexuality has become, in your culture, a synonym for weakness. That is a change in the way your culture thought less than a century ago. It is also unlike the way your honored father thinks. Am I correct in this?”

Chang nodded, and blushed. His blush was not as obvious as it might have been on Colin, the Irish boy, but I saw it.

“The boys you have met have told you that they are telepaths and that they would never try to penetrate your mind or your memories. However, Danny told me that you saw something, today, that revealed your sexual orientation.”

Chang blushed, again. “The boys in the shower . . . they . . .”

“They expressed their love in a kiss,” I said. “And you reacted in a normal fashion.

“You also blasted your thoughts to Danny. You sent them; he did not pry. Do you believe that?”

Chang’s blush got deeper. “I believe you,” he said.

“I . . . what did you see?” he asked Danny. I knew that took a lot of courage.

“I saw that the boys’ kiss excited you. I saw that you wanted to be able to kiss a boy, that way. I saw that your father knew of your desires. I saw that you and your father were both reluctant to make this known because of the reaction you expected from us and from your own people.” Danny carefully did not say fear or afraid. He was becoming quite the diplomat!

“Chang? I think it is time for you to return home. You may visit us again, soon. Will you ask your father to come for you? We will assign to him a diplomatic shuttle for his personal use.”