Chapter 39

Friday, before my CEOs arrive for their second weekend of meetings, my girlfriends and I are on a group date. Lately, I have been cancelling most of our dates so I can get our companies in the hands of those that can take care of them for us.

Carol likes a more physical date where we go and do something like kayaking and hiking. Dahlia and Moira like more of the princess fantasy type date, so I combine them. We head for the Japanese garden at Royal Roads Military College, our military’s only western university and probably the best engineering university in Canada. The plan is to hike through the Japanese gardens and then have a picnic in front of Hatley Castle for supper. It isn’t the first time I took a girl on this date, but it is the first time in this life.

We park between Hatley Castle and Esquimalt Lagoon, overlooking the ocean. The girls get out of the car and are completely enthralled. They look about, and in each direction, they are awarded with an entirely different picturesque view. To the east is the forest, south is the ocean view, but beyond that is Esquimalt’s shoreline, then Victoria proper. To the west is the Japanese garden, and to the north is the castle.

The parking lot is a distance from everything around it, so we can speak freely without being overheard. The lot used to be the old parade ground. Now, there is another parade square closer to the water and the parking lot doubles as a second parade ground.

Carol asks, “How did you know this is here? I’ve lived here my entire life and never saw anything like it.”

“Me neither,” admits Dahlia.

Moira adds, “This place is wonderful.”

“You forget that I was in the navy in my first life, and this is a military school. It was also my dream university, but I never got to go here.”

Dahlia scoffs, “What they didn’t want the child genius?”

“They didn’t know I was a genius. I aced the military entrance exams, but that isn’t uncommon. They are designed to ensure you have the minimum required intellect, not to discover true intelligence. Besides, by the time I got to apply, it was already known that the school would be closing.”

Moira states, “It seems a waste to close this place. Look how beautiful it is. Please tell me they didn’t turn it into a mall.”

“No, it doesn’t become a mall. In my books, it becomes something far worse and is an example of why humanity fell.”

“How’s that,” asks Moira.

“It was donated to a group of people that turn it into a university that focussed on women studies and environmental studies.”

Carol asks, “I thought you told us that women’s rights become a big deal in the future.

Why would they have degrees in secretarial work and being a mom? And, what are environmental studies?”

“You have it all wrong. They don’t teach typing, sewing or anything like that. Women studies are just that, the study of women. The problem is, it is more of a propaganda degree than an actual degree. They preach that women’s traditional role is harmful to society and that women are equal to men. But, when they say equal, they mean the same. I’m sorry, but I am not the same as you. We are different, but equal. I don’t want to get into it because it is a volatile subject.”

Dahlia asks, “So then, what are environmental studies?”

“It is just what it sounds like, the study of the environment. The problem with both lines of study is there is too much of a knee jerk reaction. People discover that something is harmful, and instead of doing studies to figure out how to fix it, they make things up and do whatever. The problem with that is the stuff they do in response is often worse than what they were trying to fix.

“People start spewing forth opinion as fact, and nothing positive gets done. It is one of the saddest things about humanity’s future. Nobody even wants to know what the right thing is. They just want to follow public perception and be done with it. Perception becomes more important than reality. For the most part, the greater the population, the more this is true.”

Carol states, “No wonder you left.”

“Enough negativity. We came here so I could show you around a little piece of our history and let you see the most beautiful place on the island. Just look at the castle. At this point, it has only been in one or two movies and a tv show but soon it will be in one of the biggest tv shows, one about superman in high school. After that, it is in many different shows and movies.

“What I am excited to see is the Japanese garden. After the civilians get their hands on it, it falls apart and is never fixed. When the Dunsmuirs owned it, over 100 gardeners tended the entire yard, including the gardens. The military keeps 50 groundsmen. When it was given to the civilians, they cut the gardening staff down to 6 people. They also put in more buildings, destroying the look of the entire estate. I never understood that. There were enough locations on the estate that they could have built and not ruin the place.

“Enough negativity. In 1940, King George bought the estate. If the Germans made it to Great Britain, this is where the Royal family were to live. You are looking at a royal castle. Not merely a castle of some lord. This was the King’s castle.”

Dahlia asks, “Do you mean that the Royal Family were going to live here in Victoria?”

“Yes.”

They all make remarks such as, “Cool” and, “Really!!!” Then, we head to the garden entrance.

“I wanted to take you to the barracks. It would have been an interesting history lesson since they come from the first world war. If you look around, you will notice that the buildings have years engraved in them. That is the year they were built. I’m getting sidetracked again. Ed warned me to avoid the place, so we can’t go there. Technically we are allowed on school grounds, but an officer could make a stink and try to kick us out.”

The first full-time job I ever had was in a commercial greenhouse. In this life, I suppose that by ending up in the foster system, I quit that job. I have a bit of a running commentary as I take the girls on our stroll through the garden. It is a lot better than I expected and bigger than I thought it would be. We walk the outer pathway in a loop and are nearing where we began when we see a gazebo.

Moira suggests, “Let’s sit for a bit.”

Just like at home, they sit with one girl cuddling under each of my arms while the third sits between my legs and cuddles in there. I am a bit surprised that it is Carol who says, “We have been talking, and we want you to be nicer to Jennifer.”

“I thought I was as nice to her as I am all our friends.”

Moira comments, “That isn’t what she means, and you know it.”

“She needs to get closer to boys, but she is afraid,” adds Dahlia.

“I see that I am outvoted on this. I just want you aware of a few things.”

Dahlia gives me a bit of attitude as she asks, “What is it now?”

“First off, Dahlia, you know that pushing a person may not be helpful. If she shows any sign that is the case, I’ll stop, and there is nothing the three of you can do about it.”

Moira is a bit sheepish. Jen, Deb and Ash were closer friends to her than the rest of us. Dahlia and Moira were always good friends, so when Dahlia first came to sit at my table, Moira followed. Jen, Deb and Ash followed Moira. They were still friends with Dahlia, they were just better friends with Moira, and if she didn’t come, they never would have. My point is Moira is sheepish because she is nervous about the outcome of this conversation. I’m sure she believes that I am her friend’s best hope. She asks, “What is the other thing?”

“By doing this, Jen and I are going to become close. In some ways, she and I may become closer than I am with you. I’m concerned that you might not handle it that well. I’m not looking for a replacement for Kim, but the chances are, either this ends bad, or she ends up being another girlfriend.”

Dahlia states, “I’m willing to risk it.”

“That is nice, but what of your sisters?”

Moira sits between my legs, and you can hear her cry as she says, “Last year when I lost my friends, I was devastated. Deb and Ash asked me to come to Jen’s house with them. I wanted to go, but your warning scared me. I should have been raped with them. If it were up to me, you would help all of them.”

Moira looks up at me, pleading as tears run down her face.

I bend down and kiss Moira on her forehead.

“That is what is called survivor’s guilt. You have no reason to feel guilty. You did nothing wrong, and you helped when you could. Nothing here is your fault.”

“No, but I can help again by letting my boyfriend help heal the damage.”

“You can also help by treating your friends the way you always have. Pushing her can be damaging. Support her.”

“I’m trying,” she says as she lets the flood gates open and starts bawling her eyes out.

Moira is in an awkward position, and I can’t exactly hug her, so I give her a one-arm hug, which bends me partway over and partly turns me to Carol.

I ask Carol, “And, what do you think about this? I know you were more acquaintances with her than friends.”

“I think you should do as you are being told,” Carol says with a half-smile.

“If the three of you are ganging up on me, I guess I have no choice. But, this is going to go at my pace, and you have no say at that. First off, invite Jen to all our friendly gatherings and when it is just the four of us. I’m not pushing her. If she comes to me on her own, then so be it.”

Dahlia points out, “If this is to work, you have to push.”

“I’m not pushing her to show up. If she comes over or joins us, I will push a little to see if she is ready. I’m not kissing, I’m just making good friends with her, and eventually, we will cuddle. She will have to do the rest.”

Moira practically jumps on me as she engages a group hug.

She needs it, so I let the hug last for an uncomfortably long time before saying, “We have to get going. I need to finish a few things before our CEOs arrive.” We get up and head for the SUV. I’m glad our security felt safe enough to stay in the background for this date.

The weekend is spent in meetings with my CEOs. I wish I could say that on Monday at school I start to get closer to Jen. The truth is some nut-job decided that the week of Valentine’s is the perfect time for a sports week. Thankfully the new principal deems my being the captain, owner and founder of the BFF Cycle Club is enough sport in my life that I don’t need to attend.

That gives me three and a half days to get things finished before our new head offices start to open. It is only three and a half days because Friday is a Pro-D Day for the teachers, giving the students the day off. And Thursday is the Valentine’s dance, meaning I have to be done by the time they get off school, so the four of us can spend time together.

I am a little disturbed that my office work pushes me from confronting Rachel on Wednesday to do it on Thursday.

Thursday morning, I wake to Dahlia’s exquisite body bouncing up and down on me in ecstasy. I can’t think of a better way to start an insane day.

As we are getting out of the shower, I suggest, “Since it is your Mom’s birthday and we won’t have any time for her, you should make her breakfast and set it beside her bed for when she wakes up. I had Sam turn off the alarm so she won’t be joining us for the morning ride. Write her a note and sign both our names.”

“I was just going to tell her Happy Birthday when we came home to change for the dance. I like your idea better.”

“Did you buy her a little something for today. I know you are giving the main present at her party, but what about today?”

“I never thought about it. This is the first time we moved one of our birthdays for convenience.”

I hand her a small jewelry box. The tag has both our names on it.

“What about my birthday? I thought you would have learnt something from that.”

“What is it?”

“It is a locket on a chain. One side is a group photo of her, Sam, you and me. The other is just you and me. You wouldn’t believe what I had to do to get a picture of all four of us. It isn’t very good. The picture is of Sam working on the car and Zlata helping him. You are bent over the car, watching, and I am beside you. All our faces are in it, and I am the only one not covered in grease.”

“How’d you get that?”

“Gramps took it.”

“I think the picture would be the perfect present. The locket is too much.”

I help Dahlia set things up beside the bed for her Mom. We then have a quick bite before we have to go.

At the end of the ride, I turn and head for the shop, as my security follow me.

I’m in my office for only a few minutes when the fax machine starts spitting out page after page. I don’t wait for it to run out. I grab a bundle of paper so I can refill it on the fly. As soon as I have the fax as full as possible, I start reading the pages it already spit out. As I expected, it is the outline from Y&R for the PR campaign I asked them to wage.

It is more complete than I thought it would be. Y&R divided it up into which countries receive what propaganda. They don’t have commercials, but there are some newspaper ads and some suggestions for leaked stories to make it look like we aren’t trying to influence people.

They even did research and came up with invasions I didn’t remember or never knew, such as when the US army followed natives into Canada, wanting to commit genocide, and we sent them packing.

The thing I am most surprised at was the smear campaign for Europe. To make the Americans look bad, they tore apart every Indian war and how they started. Before the American War of Independence, there were Indian wars, but they were few and far between. When the British signed a treaty saying they wouldn’t settle in an area, the army enforced the agreement, meaning if somebody were dumb enough to settle in Indian territories, the army would remove them. The US did no such thing. If they made an agreement with the Natives, they never enforced it. If a settler wanted to live on Native land, they were allowed to. When the Natives dealt with it, the army would come in and start a war. Not once did the army ever try to deescalate.

Y&R did their homework. They had more dirt than they had plans to disseminate it.

What caused me to laugh is the bill. I had given them a cap of 100 million. The estimate is 105,995,000, and there are errors in their estimation. My guess is the errors are deliberate. The real total is 110,959,000. To run a major PR campaign in the entire first world, it is an appropriate price.

I don’t know how much I can affect the world, but this will go a long way to help. I feel bad about smearing the US the way I am, but most Americans have no clue about the horrid things their nation has done. Take the Native issue, for instance. In school, they are taught that the majority of natives died of disease and not from the wars and genocide. They aren’t told that the American government and the British before them deliberately gave the natives blankets infected with smallpox and other diseases, making the diseases another act of genocide.

I liken the US, and its citizens to a failing marriage where the husband has been cheating for years. Over the years, the husband has slipped up over and over again. His wife knows him better than anybody, and deep down, she knows he is cheating. She just doesn’t want to know, so she puts blinders on. Any given year, the US has done enough horrid things that its citizens have to know deep down that they have a corrupt government. The only reason they are so adamant that theirs is the best country is because they are overcompensating and trying to hide the fact that they know the truth. It is just like the woman in that marriage. She continually covers for her husband even though she knows that he is scum.

On the last page is David Sable’s office number. I take one last flip through the pages and give David a call.

“Hello, David speaking.”

“Hi David, It’s Trent.”

“I hope you got my fax.”

“Yes, that is why I am calling.”

“That was quick. is there a problem?”

“No, there are a couple minor changes I would like to make, but for the most part, I am impressed. You dug up more dirt than I would have.”