Chapter 33: Quiet Reunion

Even though it's the hub city of High Tech, Dakar's airport was almost deserted as Michal and I walked through it. I took a look at the display board in the well-lit but empty terminal. Only a handful of flights were scheduled to land later today, and all of them were executive Mach 3+ ramjets.

It made sense. The era of sub-sonic passenger jet travel was coming to an end, at least in North America. The bullet trains were just as fast, and far safer and more economical. There were only three townships on the North and Central American continent not yet on the bullet network, including isolated Anqara, and they were all scheduled to be connected by the end of the year. This represented an historic level of cooperation between High Tech and Utility. High Tech is even negotiating with Health to build a bullet line down the 1250 km east-west spine of the island of Answan (ancient Cuba), and connect Health's five townships there.

I've heard Persepolis, 8 o 0' N, 5 o 56' W, at the ancient site of Turbo, Columbia, is now the busiest township in the world for air traffic, and only slightly below Bandar Arenas which is thirty times its size. It's not surprising. Persepolis is right at the Central American tip where it joins South America, and is the southernmost town currently serviced by the bullet network. Flights which used to fly non-stop Bandar Arenas to Dakar (11107 km) now take off with much less fuel and fly to Persepolis (5,047 km). The travelers then make the rest of the trip by train.

As we were leaving the airport, I thought of something I had meant to do on my plane but had forgotten. So I stopped at a vending machine and downloaded into Michal's e-book a current edition of her favorite engineering magazine. She gave me a startled look and then a small nod of thanks through her burqa. As an eternal virgin, she could learn nothing from it for any length of time. It was just a gift for her enjoyment.

We arrived at my cathedral complex a half hour before dawn. Emotionally I couldn't wait to see my other three wives again, but outwardly it would be expected that they would be the last thing on my mind. So I went first to check up on things with my chief of security.

Inside security's private office area, it was permissible for Michal to remove her veil, and I gave her instructions to sit and wait for me and read if she wished. She gave me a happy smile and dived into her book. A few minutes later I was sitting down with Amid.

He was extremely polite and formal, even though I had given him a hand gesture to relax.

"It is an honor to serve you, Grand Mufeto," he said following the correct protocols as he bowed appropriately.

"Amid, what are you doing? Are we being recorded?"

He blinked at me. His eyes seemed unable to tear themselves away from my CL-28 arm insignia. "No, Grand Mufeto," he said hoarsely.

"Amid, please! No titles, not even sir. Just call me Ilias."

"Yes, s... yes Ilias."

I grinned at him. "You think I've changed that much, living at the capital?"

He stared at me for a long moment, and then found my grin contagious. He gave me a genuine smile for the first time. "Shaitan Ilias! It's happened before!"

"Well, it hasn't happened with me!"

My playful smile disarmed his fears. He finally started laughing. "Men wearing the tricolors of purple, red, and yellow just don't talk this way to lowly CL-7 Ilias! You're asking me to act against a lifetime of training!"

"Well, get used to it! I'm starting a new trend!"

"Okay! I'll do my best sir! Uh, I mean Ilias!"

"So, how have things been?" Amid had sent me daily morning reports of course, throughout my stay at the capital. But he knew I was asking for an opinionated summary.

"Quiet and peaceful sums it up. Only one adult male execution in Dakar since you left, well within normal parameters."

"Ah. I remember you mentioned this briefly in your report from January 5'th."

"Yes sir. Oh, sorry! Just yes. The man had just failed his fifth promotional gate to CL-6 and was sure he had been given a placebo injection instead of the anti-aging drug."

"He did? Any idea why?"

"There's no way you can tell of course. It was just a hunch I guess, and a bad one too. Out of curiosity, the execution council got permission from Health to check the medical logs."

"Health agreed?"

"Sure. If someone had a found a way to tell the difference between a placebo injection and the real drug, Health would want to know about it."

"Ah. Yes, of course."

"Anyway, the man did get the real drug. No surprise there. The chance of getting culled on your first year after final failure is almost zero."

I nodded and sighed. "And the man must have known that. So what he do?"

"He went back to the hospital and started swearing at a Health commander, CL-8."

"Ouch! That would do it."

"Yeah. It's the third pillar of faith. Hierarchical obedience must be absolute. And it was all caught on tape, a cut and dried case. The execution council took less than ten minutes with it."

"Did the Health commander show mercy?" I was asking if the man had been killed by a super-fast lethal injection.

"From Health?!" Amid rolled his eyes at me. "A High Tech commander might. I think you might. Shaitan Ilias! I know I would. But the Health Guilds don't do mercy killings Ilias. That just isn't their style."

I sighed as I realized the man in question had been flogged, wrapped in a cocoon of white cloth and then while blinded inside the cloth stoned to death. "Anything else?"

"Oh, nothing of consequence. A few post-Judgment cullings at the monasteries, two girls, one boy I think.' He paused for a moment. "Two women were impaled for resisting discipline by their husbands, uh... Can't think of anything else... All in all a completely normal month..."

"Oh... Well, speaking of wives," I said, eager to change the topic, "how have mine been?"

"Your wives? They're the most boring women on the planet to monitor, super obedient and industrious, genuinely cheerful too. They've done a fine job of keeping your private quarters clean."

"Heisenberg shields working okay?" I asked causally. I was referring to the quantum uncertainty shields which prevent any and all snooping in my private area outside of the monitoring system.

"Sure, running perfectly. Of course your wives are unobserved once they go through the lab's double airlocks." He smiled at me. "A bit unusual to trust them like that."

Amid was referring to my private research area. "Oh, I have of ton of repetitive search work for them to do, perfect for their inferior minds. I'm interested to see how well they did."

"From the amount of time they've spent in that lab, perhaps very well indeed. I've never seen wives so dedicated, especially from wives that don't get their rumps whipped." Amid looked at me. "How did you do it Ilias? What's your secret? How did you get four wives so genuinely eager to please you without whipping them?"

I stared at Amid and decided to take a risk. "My secret is that my wives don't fear me."

Amid stared back. "But that doesn't make any sense. Why should a woman want to please you if she doesn't fear whippings for her failures?"

"Ah, a deep question Amid. Think of our relationship. Is it only through fear that you try to please me?"

Amid was startled by my question. "No, of course not! But these are females Ilias, inferior to us from every perspective, right?" He grinned, expecting complete agreement from me. Anything less would be in direct contradiction with the Book of Bel'dar.

"As it is written, Bel'dar's truth," I replied automatically. I also added in thought to myself, "But not my truth Amid, nor the truth of the true Holy whom I worship." I cleared my throat and then continued, "But it is permitted to show kindness to inferiors, even mercy and affection. Don't you ever do it yourself Amid, when you're anointing a wife, stroke her with affection as she submits to your mount?"