Soldiers

Chapter 30

"… and God Created

Humankind in Her

Own Image… "

Summer had shortened and cooled substantially as far south as the Dakota Prefecture, and the Keewatin Ice Sheet-actually the fifth-year firn line, deep in metamorphosed snow-had reached the north end of Canada's Reindeer Lake. The previous winter's snow had survived the summer southward almost to Lac La Ronge. Four hundred and fifty miles north of Reindeer Lake, near the heart of the ice sheet, soundings reported an average of more than eighty feet of ice, with plastic flow on slopes.

Not surprisingly, Saskatoon's population was less than a third that of 250 years earlier. Over the past two decades, a congregation of the Reformed Church of the Holy Mother (Gaean), had formed there, centering on the campus of a defunct Church of the Divine Liturgy. The long decline of real estate values had attracted members of the sect from all over Terra, making Saskatoon the RCHM capital of the world. One of its activities was the production of "The Daily Worldwide News Roundup," broadcast from warm and pleasant Oaxaca, Mexico, by Gaea Worldwide, an ecumenical network of Gaean sects. It claimed a listener base of 80 million-roughly point-zero-seven percent of the planetary population.

Gaea Worldwide was part of the Peace Front, but Jaromir Horvath and Paddy Davies seldom listened to their program. The Gaean sects had not been major players. But the two leaders had been notified that Gaea Worldwide would release a shocker on the roundup, at noon Greenwich and at intervals afterward. So both men were tuned in, Horvath in Kunming, and Davies in Sydney. They'd discuss afterward whether to follow through on it.

The roundup began with a summary of refugee labor battalions: their locations, projects, home worlds, and the number of refugees "enslaved." Old stuff, thought Horvath. Obviously not the promised bombshell.

Next was a report from "an anonymous source high within the government." Horvath's ears perked up; Gaea was trying to add authority to what came next.

A different voice read it, the accent British. "Kunming," it said, "has inaugurated a new and unspeakable outrage against humanity and the Holy Mother. This station has previously uncovered Kunming's unconscionable use of mentally handicapped persons as slaves for War House. Now the government has taken those vile, soul-corrupting acts a long and evil step further. They have conscripted a large number of severely handicapped children and have… " The voice stumbled, paused. "Have murdered them!-butchered them like animals, then ripped out their brains and spinal cords and transplanted them into what are termed… `bottles'!" He almost choked on the word. "Bottled innocence! Human beings designed by Gaea's holy evolution as the ultimate life-form for Planet Terra. In bottling the pitiful shards of these sad creatures, Kunming, under the leadership of Chang Lung-Chi and Foster Peixoto, has not only enslaved the souls of these children, their very humanity has been stolen. They are being installed in guided missiles, and assigned to Kunming's war fleet for use in the brutal war against our visitors from deep space.

"This incredible atrocity proves the utter depravity of our elected government. I urge everyone listening to waste no time in spreading the word, personally and electronically, to everyone you know."

Horvath's first reaction was how incredibly cliche-ridden the script was. It discredited the story, and would deflect uncommitted listeners. But he believed the underlying claim, and muting the audio, called Paddy Davies in Sydney.

Foster Peixoto's phone trilled. "Yes, Ilse?"

"You have a call from Director Al-Kathad, sir."

"I'll take it." It seemed to him that an unexpected call from the director of Internal Security would not bring good news. "Peixoto," he said.

"Mr. Prime Minister, this is Nabil Al-Kathad. I have a recorded radio broadcast you should hear, broadcast ten hours ago. It was just now brought to my attention. I recommend you record it."

Peixoto touched a switch. "Very well, the recorder is on. Let's hear it."

The director began with a brief rundown on Gaea Worldwide, and the Reformed Church of the Holy Mother (Gaean). Then he played the cube, his eyes on the prime minister's long thin face, reading annoyance in it.

When it was over, Peixoto thought for a moment. "I want you here in my office in thirty minutes," he said. "You and Chief Kumoyama."

In his office, thought Al-Kathad. Unusual. "Certainly, Your Excellency."

The prime minister disconnected at once, and his fingers rapped out another number, this one at Special Projects. "Dr. Franck," he said, "I need you here in thirty minutes, to meet with the president, myself, Director Al-Kathad, and his chief of investigations." He paused. "Meanwhile, I want you to hear a radio address, broadcast by a station in Oaxaca, Mexico. Please record it."

He gave her a moment to activate record mode, then turned on the cube with the director's comments and the Gaean broadcast. He listened again himself, while watching Dr. Franck's slender brown face. When it was over, she switched off record mode and was about to speak. The prime minister cut her off. "Be in my office in twenty-five minutes," he said, and disconnected.

He could deal with this without the president, he told himself, but Chang would want to be involved. A long finger tapped a dedicated switch. They'd eaten lunch together half an hour earlier; the president would be at his desk now.

"President Chang's office."

"Good afternoon, Setsuko. This is the prime minister. I would like to speak with the president, please."

"I believe the president is indisposed for the moment. Shall I interrupt him?"

Chang, like himself, had a phone in the private bathroom off his office. But no. "I'll wait," Peixoto said.

"Thank you, sir. It shouldn't be long."

An anonymous source, Peixoto thought. If we have a traitor, we need to know who. From the comments it wasn't a highly placed source. Someone overheard something in the office, or at lunch, and made up the rest. Installed in missles for godsake!

He became aware he was grinding his teeth, a habit he'd defeated years before. Stopping, he took three long breaths: in, one two three; hold, one two; out, one two three four… Our first concern is to counter this attack, he told himself. It is not one we can ignore. Detecting the source comes second. He fidgeted impatiently, his mind moving back to the leak. The most direct approach would be to interrogate the Gaeans who obtained the story, but they are unlikely to inform. An investigation of staff would distract from the many jobs at hand, but it would also tend to increase their awareness of the risks. On the other hand, if actual treason was uncovered…

His phone warbled again, and he reached for the switch, wondering what the president would say.

When their meeting was over, Peixoto was glad the president had attended, for the strategy they'd agreed on was Chang's. They would not attack the Gaeans. They would take the issue away from them. Broadcast a prime-time special, publicizing the project as giving dying children a chance at extended life in a-call it a "life module," or something like that. Not a "bottle." While at the same time filling a vital, nonviolent defense need. The truth would outweigh Peace Front ranting.

There was no need to feel apologetic about defense; the polls confirmed that regularly. A promotional video would be made, beginning with crippled, mentally retarded children declining toward death. Afterward they'd show newly "converted" savants functioning as communicators. And painting, doing mental computing, listening to music… whatever their personal play might be. Franck, at Special Projects, would assign and oversee production responsibility, and run quality control.

Chang was confident it would work with the public. Peixoto, on the other hand, could visualize it backfiring if it wasn't done well. Franck assured them it would work beautifully, and that she knew just the producer for the job. Al-Kathad and Kumoyama hadn't volunteered their opinions; they'd been there to discuss the security problem, and how the source might be found. But Al-Kathad's face suggested skepticism. He was skeptical by nature, of course; it went with his profession.

With some misgivings, the prime minister had given the go-ahead on the project. They'd know soon enough how successful it was.