Chapter 12

The rest of the day wasn’t nearly so drama filled as breakfast. I took Ronald and Nancy on a tour of my lab, as well as showing them the facility where we were making the drug. I did not have them sign an NDA, but did make Tim McCarthy, their main Secret Service Agent and sole escort inside those facilities, sign one.

At one point, he chuckled. “Too bad it’ll cure all that stuff, and not the common cold.”

Ginny was with us, and said, “Oh, it’ll do that, too. But the cold virus is one that most people can fight off on their own. You should’ve heard the screaming from the CDC and USAMRIID when we got some of the viruses that we used for testing. That was one good thing about the UN going away. It gave us access to the WHO inventory of nasty stuff to experiment with. So we got viruses that we do have vaccines for, because we wanted to see if this would knock them out. Measles, polio, smallpox – it took them all out. Then we played with yellow fever, Marburg, dengue fever, meningitis and encephalitis. One dose, and no matter how far along the virus had spread in the test animal, it didn’t matter.”

She shook her head. “I’m not an animal rights activist by any means. I belong to the other PETA – People Eating Tasty Animals. It still bothered me that even after we knew it’d worked, we had to destroy the test animals.”

“Why?” Nancy Reagan asked.

“Safety protocols. We purposely infected those animals with seriously nasty and dangerous viruses. They weren’t pets, they were never going to be pets. They were born and raised to be just what we used them for, as test subjects to find out if our treatment would work. Something that’s not fatal, like the ‘No Regrets’ that Cal invented? Sure, those test animals could go off to a zoo. That’s what happened to them, in case you didn’t know, Cal. But even though we cured them, these animals were still exposed to incredibly dangerous shit. I served in World War Two. I’d rather see ten thousand dead animals in testing than one dead soldier on the battlefield. I didn’t like it then, I don’t like it now. But I’m not a bleeding heart liberal, either.”

“I think we’ll see enough of those outside Vandenberg,” Ronald said. “I know you told them they’d face up to five years behind bars. There were still probably a hundred people protesting outside the gates when we left there this morning.”

“I bet I can take care of that,” I said with a devious grin.

“That almost disturbs me,” he replied.

“Good.”

“Unrelated, or at least partially related, does this mean if you needed to treat someone for cancer now, like the girls did me, you could do it?”

“I’m an MD now, Ronald. First do no harm. That’s why we’re doing forty tests in the US, and twenty-five thousand in Africa. Then another twenty-five thousand more next month, too. And twenty-five thousand in January. I actually understand the protocols behind what the FDA does, because there are so many things out there that seem to work, that later have seriously bad side effects. Thalidomide, for example. But it’s easy to swing the pendulum too far the other way. You can’t engineer the risks out of space travel, and you can’t engineer out all the risks with medicine. You may take a pill designed to help cure athlete’s foot, and it does that. But as a side effect, you have to pee every half hour for two days, and then you get dehydrated because you didn’t drink enough to compensate. To quote Robert, ‘Never underestimate the power of human stupidity.’ I completely agree with that sentiment.”

“What are some of the other things you’re working on?” Nancy asked.

“That I can’t tell you, because they’re still industrial secrets. Sorry, but we’ve had people killed who tried to break in here, and there’s a huge lawsuit pending against the manufacturers who wanted to keep selling treatments and not actual cures that tried to interfere with Stanford and our research. At the same time, it’s public knowledge that I’ve already experimentally cured cancer. Not the way the girls did you, Ronald, but with Jennifer and her breast cancer. Actually, if there is a cancer that’s caused by a virus, this should be a cure for it. After all, it’s not public knowledge I did cure someone that Marcia considers family as well.”

Nancy said, “Jill Ireland. I know her and Charley. I knew she had it, and then she didn’t.”

I smiled and said, “I can neither confirm or deny any speculation you may have.” Then I winked at her.

Ginny said, “Missus Reagan, keep in mind that this was a bit of a happy accident. Cal is a generalist.”

“I thought he was a King?”

“Not General, but generalist. It’s a term not used very much nowadays, with the newer term of polymath replacing it. A lesser slang term would be ‘Jack of all trades’ except the continuation of that is ‘Master of None’, and Cal is definitely the master of a lot. What that means is, he knows a tremendous amount of information about a huge number of subjects, and can use the unrelated information about something from over here, that can help him solve a problem over there. That’s something a specialist might miss.”

Ronald said, “I remember someone described that way, as a polymath, that helped provide the background for my Strategic Defense Initiative.”

I nodded. “You’ll meet him at Vandenberg when we head down there later. Jerry Pournelle.”

“Yes, that was his name,” he said, then sighed. “I meet so many people, and if it’s only once, sometimes it’s just hard to remember their names. I’ll be seventy-five in February, and I’m not getting any younger.”

I thought about it for a moment, then said, “That’s still about ten or twenty years down the pike, Ronald. I’m sorry.”

He looked at me, then realized what I meant. He shook his head and said, “No, don’t be. We’re both happy with each other, and our lives now. And ... well, if you’re available that day, I’d like you to be present when I give my next State of the Union address.”

“I’ll just have to see. Sorry.”

After the tour, we all went back to the house for a quick bite of lunch. Then everyone that was going to Vandenberg loaded up and went to Moffett.

When we got there, I saw Reagan admiring Atlantic. “I won’t get to fly in it, because it’ll take Boeing too long to make them. But this is what I’m replacing our current planes with, the 747.”

“We got a good deal on all of ours. It’s only a half hour down, do you want to ride with us?” I asked.

The two lead Secret Service Agents looked at each other, then sighed. Pearson said, “Sir, may we bring a few of our agents along?”

“Oh, sure. Half a dozen okay? We’ll take the sightseers down in Pacific, or one of the C130s. Ronald, Nancy, come on up, let’s go meet the flight crew while everyone gets on board.”

I went up the stairs first. “Hi, crew. This is Ronald and Nancy Reagan. They’re going to be our guests today going down to Vandenberg. These are my pilots, Cassandra Eliot, her wife, Mary, and Grace Deacon, our flight engineer.”

“Ladies, it’s my pleasure to meet you,” Ronald said with his traditional grin and handshake.

“Mister President!”

I chuckled. “See what kind of respect I get? Cass, go ahead and use his call-sign when we take off instead of mine.”

I spent several minutes showing them around the plane, including the bedroom and the crib area, which Nancy thought was neat, while the Secret Service Agents took seats in the back with the security that was riding with us.

After the doors had closed and the engines started, I noticed some of my wives weren’t onboard. I sent a quick mental message to Beth asking what was going on.

‘We’re making Niranjana’s day with Pacific. Cass gets to claim ‘Air Force One’ for the flight, and Greg gets to claim ‘Punjab Two’ for us. Just a neat little reward for both our flight crews.’

The jumbo jets lined up on the parallel runways, then did something I wasn’t expecting. After just a few seconds, Cass and Greg both pushed the throttles forward at the same time, and then rotated at the exact same moment, just like it’d been rehearsed. I hadn’t noticed them taking off before we did, but we suddenly had six fighters in formation with us as we all turned west towards the Pacific Ocean, before heading south.

It didn’t take us very long to get to Vandenberg. We landed first, then Pacific landed after our turbulence cleared up, as they only had one runway large enough for us.

Once we were both down and clear, then SAM 27000 landed behind us.

The Secret Service met our plane with their own Suburbans, to take everyone to meet the scientists and technicians that had worked on the rocket. We used the Air Force version of the high lift catering truck trick to get Diana, Gloria, and Karen down. Somehow, I didn’t think using telekinesis like I’d used to help them get into the planes in the first place would go over too well.

While the introductions and explanations were underway, since I knew what was going on, I asked General Fitzsimmons if he’d had any issues with protesters due to the publicity.

“Unfortunately, yes. They’re staying just outside the marked perimeter, on public land, so we can’t legally arrest them.”

“Sounds about right. The ones that used to show up at my house learned after we shot a few. I don’t suppose there are television crews out there, as well, are there?”

“Of course. That’s another reason I can’t act.”

I smiled, then. “No, unfortunately, you’re right. You can’t. Damned shame that I can, though. Let’s see ... Chuck! Oh, Chuck! I need a squad of Gurkhas armed with rifles, and, oh, go ahead and let me have a forty-five, please.”

Brent was standing nearby. “Here, you can take mine.” He opened his jacket, showing his holster and pistol.

“Wait! You mean my State Department troubleshooters walk around armed?”

“We always have. You’d be surprised at some of the dumps ... I mean, less than modern areas ... no, I meant dumps ... that we’ve been in. I figure if I give you mine, that means I’ll be less likely to want to use it on myself once you get done dealing with the people outside the gate.”

“Yeah, you know me too well.”

Colonel Suwal and a squad of my troops were waiting for me. We borrowed an Air Force open backed truck, loaded them up, and then drove to the front gate. There were easily a hundred men and women outside the wire, carrying an assortment of protest signs. There were also television cameras from all three of the major US networks. I got out of the truck, my troops dismounted, and the Air Police Major at the gate came over.

“Excuse me, Sir, but what do you think you’re doing?”

“Oh, I’m going to clear out the crowd of protesters, of course. I’ve already told General Fitzsimmons I’d handle them. I may as well deal with this while Ronald is being told by the guys that put the rocket together what we’re all going to see in the dark later. Also, of course, this way I’ll make sure no one is out there with a heat seeking missile. That would really fuck the launch up.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it and shook his head. Then he said, “I was going to ask if you have the authority to do this, but I forgot. Not only are you a King, but from our perspective, as the Spatial Defense Minister for the whole planet, you can give the General orders when it comes to the safety of that rocket.”

“Close. I can give President Reagan orders about it, too. Oh, can I borrow that bullhorn, please?”

He handed it to me, then motioned with his hand. The guard in the shack opened the gate enough for me and my Gurkhas to exit. I’d noticed the crowd, while blocking the road and being ignored by the actual police, were carefully staying just on the back side of a white line that had been painted across the roadway and the grass, just like the lines in front of my house.

I walked up until I was about five feet from the line. Most of the protesters went quiet when they saw me casually approaching them, with my Gurkhas all stopping fifty feet back. I looked at them for a moment, then pointed at one of them. He was carrying a sign that read, ‘No Nukes in Space!’

“Hi. Just curious, are you one of the organizers of this demonstration?”

“Uh, no.”

“Ah, okay. I’d like to have a conversation with one, or all, of them, if they’d please come up here.”

Three men and a woman were off to one side. They all looked like they were college age. One of the men said, “We’re right here. What do you want?”

“Hi, I’m Cal. Like I said, I’d like to have a conversation with you. Please, let’s allow the television crews to get closer, too. Go ahead, clear things out a bit, please.”

The four looked at each other, puzzled, then moved to near where I was, while staying on their side of the line. All three of the television cameramen and reporters decided it was safe for them to cross the line, since I’d invited them, and did so. That way they could catch all of us in the same shot. Once everyone was done jockeying around, I stood with my hands behind my back, waiting expectantly.

The four ringleaders looked at me, with one of them finally realizing what I was waiting for. “I’m Pete, this is Jerry and Jim, and that’s Debbie.”

“Hello, Pete, Jerry, Jim, and Debbie. I see that you all have protest signs, with various slogans on them. ‘No Nukes,’ ‘Give Peace a Chance,’ one that I saw in history class, ‘Make Love Not War,’ and ‘Ban the Bomb,’ That’s cool. Do you mind if I ask the four of you a few questions? Like I said, I’d like to have a conversation with you.”

Jerry said, “We saw you on TV. You’re sending nuclear warheads into space!”

“Well, yes, of course. You’re aware that Shiva is coming in March, right?”

Debbie shook her head, her long brown hair accenting the motion. “So what? We don’t believe in war. We just want peace!” There were a lot of murmurs of agreement from the crowd about her declaration.

“I see,” I replied, nodding, and then asked, “So, Jerry, do you feel the same way?”

“Well, yeah! We don’t think he’s real, and even if he is, we respect him, and he’ll respect us. That’s how it worked in Vietnam! Once we got out, they left us alone, and we left them alone. Peace rocks, man!”

“So, Jim, what do you think about the whole Federation of Terran Nations?” I asked.

He actually looked conflicted, which surprised me. “It’s good and it’s bad. We need someone in charge, to rein in the military-industrial complex. But they’re not helping the people that need it, giving them the stuff they need to survive!”

“What do they need to survive, though? Who, specifically, are you talking about?”

“You know, dude, the folks in Africa that are starving because there’s no UN food going to them now!” he replied.

“Ah, I see. Before I answer that question, and I will do that, are the four of you enrolled in college now? If so, where?”

Jim said, “Me and Jerry are at Long Beach, Pete and Debbie are at UCLA.” He turned and waved behind him at the rest of the group. “These guys are from a bunch of colleges around the LA area. Why is that important?”

“I was curious as to whether you were being told certain facts in your classes, is all. I hope you all know that facts are just that, facts. It doesn’t matter what your personal opinions are, they don’t change the facts. Like, this is black asphalt I’m standing on. You might decide you want to call it green grass, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s black asphalt, right?”

The four of them, and most of those close enough to hear nodded, mostly in confusion.

I was using the bullhorn now, so everyone could hear me. “Okay, here’s a few facts about helping the people in Africa. It sounds good to say that the UN was sending thousands of tons of food to help starving people in Africa. The cold, hard fact is that for every two thousand pounds of food that was sent there to help feed the starving, only about two pounds of it actually made it to the people that needed it. The rest of it was sold off by corrupt UN bureaucrats or given as bribes to the warlords that ran those countries. You know how they’d show films of UN crews pulling into villages with truckloads of food? What they didn’t show you was the UN soldiers forcing the women to have sex with them if they wanted to get any of that food, or once the camera crews were gone, just taking it all back, most of the time by force. That’s one of the reasons why South Africa is now no longer subject to international sanctions, and even though there’s now a white man that’s the Prime Minister, it’s because he was elected – not chosen by other whites, or by the UN – but elected by the black majority population of South Africa to help lead them in rejoining the civilized nations of the world.”

I scanned all the faces now looking at me. “Did any of you know that before now? Go ahead, raise your hands if you knew it, don’t be afraid.”

The entire crowd was now quiet, with not a single hand in the air.

“Jerry, you’re absolutely right, peace does rock. It’d be a great thing if we could be like ‘Ebony and Ivory, living together in perfect harmony’. I totally agree that would be great. Same with what John Lennon sang, ‘Give Peace a Chance.’ But I’ve got a very serious question for you. For all of you. Any time there is a fight, a conflict, or a war, what happens when the other side doesn’t agree with you? What if they don’t want to live in harmony with you? How many of you are Jewish? Come on, raise your hands! I said put your hands up if you’re Jewish! That’s better. Look at yourselves. I just counted ten hands in your group that are Jewish. Keep in mind, so are two of my wives. Guys, we’re talking about something that happened less than fifty years ago, that even if you wanted to live in harmony and peacefully, the other side wanted to throw those members of your protest group into ovens. And they did just that, just because they were Jewish.”

I looked at the leaders. “Now, how do you protect those people in your group that someone wants to throw into an oven? Do you think standing outside of Auschwitz with some signs and chanting would stop your friends from being murdered? Or don’t you about imagine you’d have ended up in the ovens, too? Do you know why South Africa is now effectively peaceful? It’s because black people rose up and fought for the right to run their own country. They killed people. I see there are at least thirty of you who are black. A hundred and twenty-five years ago, in this country, if you were black, you couldn’t get an education. In fact, most of you would have been owned by someone else. Because you would have been a slave! I doubt any of you would like that, would you? Hundreds of thousands of Americans fought and died so that you wouldn’t be owned by anyone. Doctor Martin Luther King Junior marched, fought, and died so that you would be judged for the content of your character, and not the color of your skin. You’re all aware of those facts, right?”

Most of the signs were on the ground now, with many of their wielders now looking embarrassed.

“Debbie, Shiva is coming. He’s very real. Halley’s Comet is right now on a course to pass so close to the Earth that it may not miss. Comets can’t change their course on their own. I don’t know if you’re familiar with Scotty from Star Trek, but he once said, ‘I canna change the laws of physics.’ Remember that guy flying around wearing a super tight costume, telling all of us we had to live by his three principles? ‘End the Fighting,’ ‘Destroy the Bad Drugs,’ and ‘Live in Peace’ were what he said. How’d we destroy the bad drugs, all the cocaine and meth and opium? We used our military to go destroy it. Then they left, so the people in those nations could live in peace, because no other nation was going to come in and invade them, to take them over. Where is he now? Where’s the Mother Fucking Alien? He’s not here, is he? There’s someone that may be bigger and badder than he is, so he’s gone. Now, Debbie, did you see any of what the alien did while he was here?”

She was quiet for a few seconds, then defiantly said, “Yeah, I saw the film of what happened to Iran and Iraq, and then the video from when he burned all the Chinese leaders alive.”

“Well, Debbie, there’s someone else coming to Earth now. He’s going to be here in March. He has at the very least the same powers as the alien. You know, the guy who blew up entire armies, and killed millions of Chinese in a few seconds because their government didn’t listen to him. Oh, and he’s not as nice as that alien was. Do you really think he’s going to listen to you protest what he does? Or do you think he’d just take one look at you and just burn you alive like what happened in China and Pakistan?”

There were a lot of the protesters now that looked sick, with a couple that were bent over, actually being sick.

“Hey, Pete. Guess what? I’m going to give you an opportunity, a choice, even.”

He looked at me suspiciously. “What?”

“The reason I’m out here right now, talking to you, to all of you – and this will be shown on all the networks without editing, even if it’s not going out live right now – is simple,” I said. I turned and glared at the cameras, then turned back to Pete and continued. “You’re out here because I mentioned this launch before. I even explained in a press conference that the whole purpose behind this rocket is to try to help stop Shiva from causing hundreds of millions of extra deaths around the world in March, and that’s why I authorized nuclear weapons to be used. But you know what, Pete? I like you.”

I stepped closer to him. “I’m going to give you the chance, right now, to say the magic words, ‘call it off,’ and why, then I’ll do it. I’ll tell the people behind that fence to go ahead and disassemble the rocket, because Pete thinks we should give peace a chance. There’s just one condition, though.”

I pulled the pistol from behind me, then spun it so the grip was facing him. “Since, when Shiva does get here, he’s probably going to kill about half the people around the world, while turning the other half into his slaves to worship him like he’s a god, you have to show to me, right here, right now, that you’re willing to back up your words with actions. There are seven rounds in this pistol. I’ll get you more. I want you to take this pistol and shoot half the people here with you in the head with it. Because Pete, if I call off that rocket, then you may as well kill your friends that are here yourself, because that’s what you’ll have done to half the world when Shiva does get here, if we don’t do anything now.”

“That’s ... that’s fucking insane! How can you say that?” he asked in almost a scream.

“Because I also want to live in peace, but I’m not afraid to fight for what I believe in and to kill someone who would otherwise want to kill me and those I love. I’m also not afraid to die for what I believe, either. Are you?” I spun the pistol around then, and instead of the grip facing him, now he stared down the barrel.

“Well, Pete? How about it, Jerry? Jim? Even you, Debbie?” As I said their names, I pointed the barrel at each of them. “I’m willing to fight and to die to help protect everyone that lives on this planet. Are you willing to die to stop it? Ah, I can see you, over there, thinking you’re going to say I’m bluffing, that I wouldn’t do it. Guess what? I’ve already done it. Remember watching on television how I said there was a group that was trying to take over the planet? They had someone working inside here, trying to sabotage the launch. I killed him. And he’s not the first person I’ve killed to protect my family and this planet and all the people that live on it. Would you care to be the next?”

“But...” Debbie started.

“But what? It’s against the law? I have full sovereign diplomatic immunity. That’s why I’m on this side of the fence, and so are those Gurkhas behind me. I could give them the order to pull their rifles down and kill all of you. They wouldn’t hesitate in the least. It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve killed someone at my orders; it won’t be the last. Someone wanted this launch stopped so badly they smuggled three surface-to-air missile launchers into this country, to try to kill me. I’m rather obviously still alive. They’re not. And I’m not in jail, am I? How about it, Debbie? Are you volunteering to allow me to shoot you in the head, to prove how morally superior you are to someone who simply wants to defend the planet from an evil that’s greater than Hitler, Mao, Stalin, and literally every other dictator that we’ve come up with on our own – combined – because they were human, and the evil isn’t?”

“Fuck this! This isn’t what the professors told us it’d be, our way of showing the ‘man’ how we felt. This shit’s too real, I’m going home,” one of the guys in the crowd said.

Without much more than simple murmurs, the rest of the crowd broke up and left peacefully within a few minutes. The only one remaining was Jim, and he was standing quietly waiting until the last vehicle had left.

“Cal?”

“Yes, Jim?”

“None of the rest did. I will. I apologize for what we did today.”

“Well, it sounds to me like you might want to consider taking some different classes, with different professors.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right. Thanks, man.”

“Hey, I know it bothered you about Africa and the people there not getting help. The cameras are still rolling here, so they’ll catch this. Just because the Federation doesn’t help the people of Africa by giving them food for their leaders to sell or waste doesn’t mean that we’re not helping them. We’re helping overthrow the corrupt and drug dealing governments of a dozen nations right now, so the people of Africa can actually choose their own leaders instead of simply having different warlords moving in and taking power. And here’s something to tell your professors that say we don’t believe in helping those that can’t help themselves. On Tuesday, the first flight of medicine gets sent to Africa. It’s only two thousand doses, but there will be more – a lot more – that I’m sending and paying for myself. Tens of thousands of doses per month, to be given to those people that have HIV and AIDS.”

That caused all three reporters to immediately focus their attention on me, but they also knew not to ask. Fortunately, Jim didn’t, so he did ask.

“You’ve got a treatment for HIV?”

I shook my head. “No. I’ve got a cure.”

I looked at the reporters with a smile on my face. “Press conference later tomorrow morning, after the successful launch of Earth Defender – which is the name I just came up with for our rocket – and we’ve had a chance to get some sleep and breakfast. Until then, thank you. Oh, and Jim?”

He was still standing there, dumbfounded. “Yes?”

“You might ask the question of your friends about why, exactly, your professors would be so adamant about protesting so many things. If those professors believed in what they were telling you to do, where were they this morning? Do a little thinking for yourselves. You might not like the answers you get, but they’ll almost certainly be right. Have a good day.”

I turned around and walked back to the base, tucking the pistol into the back of my pants next to my khukuri. I handed the bullhorn back to the Air Police Major.

“Pardon me, Sir, but may I ask you a question?”

I nodded.

“We could hear you from here, obviously. Would you really have ordered your soldiers to open fire on the crowd? Wouldn’t that be an illegal order?”

“For you, or even for President Reagan? Sure. For me? No, not in the least. You’re also in error about something else. The men that followed me out there aren’t soldiers. They are Gurkha warriors! AYO GORKHALI!”

From twelve throats came the shout, “AYO GORKHALI!”

“That’s ... frightening,” he said.

“The Gurkha are among you. You should be frightened,” Colonel Suwal said.

I simply nodded in agreement, then ignored the truck and led the men in a run back to the building where everyone else had waited, with Colonel Suwal calling cadence.

Lunch was well underway by the time I got back.

I saw Bob just shaking his head, while Jerry and Larry were both looking intrigued. I grabbed a plate of food and joined them.

“What’s so funny, Bob?”

“You. All this work and effort, and you’d tell us to stop it if that kid had killed some people. These two don’t know whether you were serious or not. I do.”

I nodded. “Of course I was serious. It’d make things more difficult in March, I admit that. But it wasn’t like there was the slightest danger of him taking me up on my offer. I figured at absolutely worst, he might shoot one kid, and not fatally at that. It might’ve sounded like I was taking a chance, but I wasn’t, not in the least.” Then I snorted, and smiled.

“What’s that for?”

“Bob, I was just thinking about all those professors at Berkeley and all the rest of the schools that are trying to politically indoctrinate kids, instead of teaching them. The world today and what I’m doing has to be giving them nightmares. They want to push the idea that the Castro brothers and Che Guevara were heroes, when the people of Cuba themselves have publicly repudiated them. They talk about the wonders of Communism, and the two biggest nations on the Earth that were Communist aren’t that way any more. They talk about how evil and terrible the US government is for going around and pushing imperialist ideals and manifest destiny using the corrupt military industrial complex, and suddenly there are no more national wars for the US to be involved in, the military is for defense only, and some of the oppressed natives now aren’t part of the US any longer. They can’t even yell about me being racist.”