April 6: And What Goes Around (13 page)

Jon was looking
around. He'd never been to April's place. He had the oddest expression and she
wondered if it was a bigger place than he expected. She had no idea what his
living quarters were like in comparison. Most people lived in apartments that
made a cheap Earthie hotel room seem spacious.

The norm for most
people was a living room about the size of a walk-in closet on Earth. A kitchen
with a table that stowed flat to the bulkhead and folded down when you needed
it. Chairs were fabric slings on folding frames you could collapse and hang on
a hook. Bathrooms were mostly all-in-one stalls with the whole tiny room being
the shower too. Gunny told her that was something they did in motor homes or
travel trailers on Earth.

Jon was standing
still holding the food, staring at the large Lindsey Pennington drawing
opposite the couches. It was a huge drawing full of detail in Lindsey's
distinctive style. The focus of the piece was rendered almost photorealistic
with vivid color and the background was less detailed and the colors  muted the
further your eye strayed from the center. The subject was Lt. Moore of the
USNA, who had been captured after the post war attack on Home. He'd been taken
off a rail gun satellite before they were all destroyed by Home militia.

The attack killed
several Home citizens and forced their decision to move from Low Earth Orbit
out to L2 beyond the moon. The assembly had deferred acting  against him to
anyone who lost blood relatives. One man had passed on exacting retribution for
his brother, but Mrs. Hu had lost her husband and made Moore kneel and then
asked the loan of April's Japanese sword.

In the drawing
Moore has his back to the raised speakers platform. Mrs. Hu is holding the
sword with both hands, laying the flat of the blade across his neck. She asked
if he admitted being an accessory to murder and he tearfully admitted it. April
was certain if he's tried to lay the blame off on his commander Hu would have
hacked his head off in a stroke. The sword was a genuine antique Japanese sword
and a family treasure. April had no doubt even the diminutive Mrs. Hu could
have beheaded him with that weapon.

Instead she had
removed the threatening blade and consigned him to the nonexistent mercy of his
masters. The man had fainted away, sure he was doomed.

Jon was looking at
the raised platform behind the two theme characters. He was drawn sitting there
along with Mr. Muños, April's father, and several other of what most might
regard as Home's founding fathers. Being in the immediate background to the
main subjects their detail and color were still quite good. Even April sitting
further to the side just off the platform was still quite recognizable.

"Let me take
that," April insisted, relieving him of the food carrier.

"I've seen
prints by Lindsey," Jon said. "I didn't know she did anything this
big
."

"It's not a
print. That's an original drawing. She did it to spec and on commission so
there won't be any prints of it out floating around."

Jon nodded
acknowledgment. April was pretty sure he liked it. She put the food by the com
console instead of the kitchen, laid her pistol there as she hadn't brought its
holster and went to get Jon a coffee. If he was going to take his time with the
drawing he might as well have a mug.

She poured herself
a mug too, gave Jon his, and started setting up the bigger wall screen to
display their searches. When the screen was configured she looked at the
sandwiches and got a hot ham, cheese and egg on a grilled Italian roll. It
still steamed when she unwrapped it. Jon by then was looking at the Tongan
tapas. The mat was displayed as a wall hanging.

"Thanks for
the breakfast," April said between bites. Jon waved an acknowledgment over
his shoulder. He'd moved on to her smaller Lindsey drawing. The one of hands
around a coffee cup. He was contemplating it hands clasped behind his back.

It looked like
he'd brought a dozen hot sandwiches so April started on another. One didn't
hack it at all. She wanted to start looking at what they'd received overnight.
She decided not to say anything to hurry Jon. He was her guest after all. She'd
just start and he could join in when he wanted. Gunny wasn't up either. Maybe
Jon was waiting for him to join them.

Jeff's agents were very efficient. Each report had a time-stamped header
and a few key words. Then a short one paragraph synopsis. April examined a few.
They seemed to understand what they were looking for and the abbreviated form
seemed quite sufficient to her purposes. She started sorting significant ones
to share with her partners,

There was a medical
conference in Hawaii canceled three days before the scheduled start. Five
speakers were unavailable at the last minute without explanation.

The head of a large Canadian investment firm died suddenly yesterday with
no previous history of health problems. He'd was in his fifties and had
returned two days ago from a European vacation in apparent good health. The
obituary said, "After a sudden illness."

Late night talk show host Bernie McKinsey who had a large following in
Canada and New England states took ill in the middle of his show and had to be
walked off the set towards the end. The audience that night got a surprise
substitution rushed in to record the entire show from the start. One guest had
to leave but they added a few musical selections to pad out the time.

Gunny came out
dressed with wet hair, but moving slow and beady eyed. He went to get coffee
without any conversation. Jon took that as a signal to get down to business. He
sat on the end of the couch next to the com console and took his pad out. April
had divided the screen in thirds and started using the left side. Jon keyed the
number in from the right window and had his pad talk to the screen.

That left Gunny
the middle section which he activated with a bit bigger computer than a common
belt pad. He sat side-ways in the opposite corner of the couch from Jon and
stretched his legs out straight across the middle. The table between the two
couches was just in reach to park his coffee.

April took him a
couple breakfast sandwiches, leaving them on some napkins by his coffee. He
didn't look ready to make executive decisions yet so she didn't bother him with
chit-chat about what sort of sandwich he'd like. She'd been with him long
enough to know he wasn't a fussy eater. She got a muttered thanks as he looked
at his messages.

"This is
interesting," Gunny told them. "Overhead shots of China show
decreased
conflict. It isn't really two sides in conflict there, more like three large
factions and two smaller regional ones. But except for the faction in Xinjiang
things have quieted down and the fighters have drawn back from seeking to
engage the others."

"Decapitation."
Jon suggested. Then when Gunny just lifted an eyebrow he elaborated. "If
they lost their very highest leadership they may be regrouping and establishing
who is running things. They can be busy enough with that to neglect field operations."

"Wouldn't the
people doing the fighting know what to do and keep at it?" April asked.

"It's not
like our volunteer militia," Jon said. "It's their
job
. They
make their living at it and initiative is not encouraged. Indeed they might be
punished for taking action without orders. Especially if they lost people or
used up supplies. Anything that didn't go very well could wreck their
careers."

Gunny was nodding
his head in agreement. "That's true of most professional military. You
cover your butt and do exactly what you are told. Doctrine in most Earth
military is to go to a defensive posture in the absence of orders. If it goes
badly the brass always try to shift the blame as low down the ranks as it will
go. About the only time that doesn't fly is a commander of a ship. Even if he
was sleeping in his bunk he's still responsible for what happens to his
ship."

"That doesn't
seem fair," April said.

Gunny shrugged.
"If his subordinates screw up that badly to endanger the ship or damage it
they figure he didn't train them sufficiently or if they were untrainable he
should have removed them."

"OK, I can
see that. But... wow," April said. It seemed harsh.

"Yes, it's a
difficult standard. It's a big responsibility," Gunny said.

"Look at
this," Jon said. "Ernie spoke with Jan over on ISSII. He has a good
personal relationship with him and Jan asked this not be made public.
Switzerland started closing off roads into the country as well as rail links
before dawn this morning. Flights out are OK but no incoming flights. One plane
from Brussels refused to divert claiming a fuel emergency and they refueled
them on the tarmac without letting anybody off. I'm flagging Jan as a key word
for my search.

"Well that's
going to kill their economy," Gunny said. "They must see this as
every bit the danger we are considering it or worse. But then they can
reasonably seal themselves off. Most other nations won't have that option
unless they are an island."

"Why? Because
they're small?" April asked Gunny.

"Not just
that, although it helps. But the mountains limit the number of routes in. They
may have to retreat behind some rivers to the north if incursions from Germany
become a problem, but we are seeing Italy as the immediate source of this
epidemic. The Alps really limit travel from that side."

"That's what
I read some people did back in 1918 to avoid that flu," April said.

"Yes, you
mentioned that yesterday, but it's much harder to do today. Besides air travel
they didn't have back then most areas have a lot more roads, and places that
were serviced by the railroads have switched to roads too. Come to think about
it, small motor boats were uncommon then too." Jon said.

"My guys have
been using commercial satellite feeds quite a bit," Gunny said. "They
report that a number of hospitals in Europe and North America have put tents or
trailers in front of their emergency room entrances. They've done that before
when there have been various kinds of epidemics, not just flu. Otherwise you
have a waiting room full of people being exposed to infectious agents when they
are there for simple everyday stuff. And the hot infectious patients can be
diverted to isolation so everybody in the ER doesn't have to wear isolation
gear. OK, they are seeing this in Australia too."

"But nothing
on a regular news program?" April said.

"No, they're
pretty useless," Gunny said. "But I think we can say there is
something nasty loose."

"Oh wow, look
at this," Jon said. "This was flagged urgent. It's from Eddie again.
A TV preacher just blew the whole thing wide open."

Jeremiah Fogley's "Dance Before The Lord" show claims God's
scourge on the ungodly, said the header. Jon went right to the video. An
impossibly thin man in a tight suit leaned forward over a lectern stabbing at
his audience with his index finger.

"Have I told
you about the abomination that is altering God's handiwork?"

There was a swell
of voices from the crowd. Not any clear word, but a growl.

"The Good
Book says a man's days amount to seventy years or eighty if he is
mighty
,"
flexing his thin arms as if he were a body-builder. "But these
modern
men know better," he said, sneering. "They would undo these set
limits just as they have opposed every other godly thing. It's no surprise such
a thing would start with Europe. The Old World is proud to brand themselves
secular
as if holiness is a curse. They are trying to cover it up, but God's judgment
is come upon those who would
buy
life itself like they do a fancy house
or big yacht."

When he gestured
wildly the crowd roared and he pivoted away from the lectern and did a wild
dance in a circle, coming back to talk to them again. The crowd loved it.

"I guess
that's the dancing before the Lord part," Jon said, amazed.

"The list of
sinners struck down by this new pestilence is too big to hide, brothers and
sisters! All those movie stars who teach your children to be immoral. All those
politicians who are nothing but crooks in fancy suits. All those money grubbing
businessmen who worship the dollar instead of God! They all thought they were
buying life. But do you know what they got, brothers?" He held up his palm
to forestall an answer. "Do you know what they bought, sisters?" The
audience was held silent by his hand.

"Death!"
He answered sweeping his hand down dramatically. A single digit pointing the
path to damnation for them. While the crowd showed their approval he took
another gyrating tour of the backstage, freezing dramatically at the end.

"You see what
this Life Extension Therapy gains them? You can't
cheat
God! Not for
long. Yes there are those who have not embraced this abomination who get sick.
We've always had common flu, it sickens the godly and the ungodly alike, and
sometimes by God's grace we recover, and sometimes the Lord calls us home. But
not like this. This season it cuts down the sinners like wheat," he said,
sweeping his hand like a using a
scythe, something few in his
audience had ever seen but still understood. That lead to another circuit dance
repeating the motion over and over like he was harvesting the stage.

"And
do you know where the stronghold of this filth is? The place with the most
people who have sought out this perversion? That place they dare call
Home
,"
he said, stabbing that finger again but at the sky.  "As if God did not
give man a proper home. They forsook God's Good Earth and his limits on life.
Just like the angels who forsook their proper place this will be the end of
Home. They live high on the hog up there in the sky, all of them, not just
Home. But do you think they have farms and fields up there?" he asked, and
paused. The crowd laughed.