Published: 28 May 2020

Paul-Bryan-Zhang-Richard-Nemesis (13,140)

Paul

Richard and Zhang invited us to stay with them longer, but I had classes to teach and scripts to write. Bryan needed more clothes than what he was wearing, and I needed more compute power than my laptop. Richard gave me a hug and an official-looking pass that Aiden dropped off. Bryan got a hug from Zhang.

I was glad Bryan and Zhang were becoming friends. Both had been manipulated by men for their own purposes: Bryan’s over-demanding “Tiger Father” had surgery performed on the boy’s eyelids to make him look more occidental. The man had pushed Bryan physically and academically, but not shown love. Zhang had been altered surgically, too: more extensively than Bryan, to be sure. Zhang’s surgery had been done to make him an object of sexual attraction. Both boys had suffered until they had been rescued by Richard and me. Our love for these boys was first agape and then eros. We filled the boys’ needs on many levels. Bryan filled a need I didn’t know I had, and I suspected Zhang did the same for Richard.

There was only one lane open. The rest of the road was filled with rubble and broken glass left by flash mobs. We were stopped at six checkpoints by police, military, and DHS. It was getting harder to tell one group from the other: they all wore camo, they all drove olive-drab armored personnel carriers and carried automatic weapons, and they all were surly. Their manner lightened a little when I showed them the pass.

Lakeshore Drive seemed normal, although there were a lot of APCs and HUM-Vs rolling and parked at intersections. No checkpoints, though. They must have figured that if we’d made it this far we must be okay. I pulled into the garage under the high-rise.

I grabbed a couple of bottles of water from the refrigerator, and took Bryan into the living room. Despite our time with Richard and Zhang – perhaps because if it – I felt that we needed to talk.

“Aiden told you about the gods,” I said.

“Um hum. But he wouldn’t tell me about you,” Bryan said.

“There’s not much that you don’t already know—” I began.

“Friends tell friends the truth!” Bryan interrupted. “Aiden said you were special.”

“I know that Aiden thinks I am more than I seem. I know some of the others think that, too,” I said. “However, the only way I’m different is that I can see and interact with Richard, Aiden, and the other gods even when they don’t want me to.”

“Huh?” Bryan asked.

“If the gods don’t want to be seen, they could bump into you, stand in front of you, hit you, yell in your ear, and you wouldn’t see them or hear them. The only reason you saw Richard and Aiden and Zhang was that they wanted you to see them. That doesn’t seem to apply to me. I saw Nemesis one day in the University Library. He seemed to be having trouble finding something in the stacks, so I offered to help him. He was so frightened that I backed off. I was afraid he thought I was some kind of sexual predator. As cute and young as he was, and as alone in the stacks as he was, I figured that was a real concern. I didn’t know, then, either who he was or why he really was afraid.

“The next day, he showed up with Gary. Gary introduced himself, and thanked me for offering to help Nemesis. Then, he explained why Nemesis had been frightened.”

Gary

I found Paul at the library, and stood in front of his table. He looked up, and I realized Nemesis had been right. He could see us. But he wasn’t a god; there was no glow. I did not see evil, either. I spoke without preamble.

“Nemesis – the boy you spoke to in the stacks yesterday? curly, dirty-blond hair? – is not an ordinary little boy,” I told Paul. “He’s the Greek god of retribution.

“You don’t believe me,” I added.

Paul chuckled. “It’s not that I don’t believe you; it’s that I’ve been focusing on cosmology for the past couple of hours, and Greek gods don’t fit into my current, operational world view. I have to shift through a whole lot of mental gears to get to a place where they fit. I’m there, now. I accept your premise. Are you a god, too?”

“Yes, sort of,” I said. “I received some of the powers once held by Artemis – her Authorities as Protector of Children. The other gods, including one very ancient god as well as avatars of other old gods and of Death, treat me as if I were one of them: a full-fledged god. How can you shift gears, as you put it, so easily?”

Paul chuckled, again. He seemed to find not humor but good feelings in this, as if he were comfortable with himself and with me, and with what I was telling him.

“I’m a scientist, and so steeped in the notion that science is inquiry and not doubt that I must be able to work from many different points of view. In one of those points of view, you are a pleasant but insane person. In another, you are a con artist, trying to lure me into some get-rich-quick-scheme – perhaps a get your godhood through the internet just send in your credit card number scam. In another, you are the incarnation or avatar of a Greek god. In another, you are an ordinary person who finds himself in possession of powers beyond his ken, and who has created the notion he is a Greek god in order to explain that. There are other possibilities. I’ve accepted that you are the incarnation or avatar you say you are. It provides the basis for questioning, experimentation, exploration, and understanding.”

Paul

“Gary seemed a little put off, until he grinned and then said, ‘You and Nemesis are going to get along well. He is a bit of a philosopher. He talks like you do, some of the time.’ ”

“Then, Gary called Nemesis to join us, and we talked for a while. Nemesis told me his story. I’m not going to tell you – not to hide it, but because it’s his story to tell. Over the summer, I have gotten to know Gary and Nemesis and some of the others Aiden told you about. I suspect you’ll meet them all, soon. Our paths keep crossing and since you and I are going to be together, you’ll cross paths with them, too.”

Bryan’s next question floored me. At first, I thought it wasn’t relevant to our discussion. Then, I realized it was the most important thing we could talk about

“Paul? Am I your boyfriend?”

It had been less than two days since I rescued Bryan, cuddled with him, adopted him, and had sex with him. I knew the question was going to come up, and had thought about it. Even so, I wasn’t quite prepared to answer. I tried, though.

“Bryan Nicholas Kendrick, I love you in every possible meaning of that word. I love you as my son. I love you as the boy who opened his heart and dreams to me in the library before you became my son. And I love you physically – you have seen that. Yes, you are my boyfriend, and I hope you will be for a long, long time.”

“I do not want to lose you, either,” Bryan said.

Bryan

Paul lived in a high-security high-rise that overlooked the lake. Once, the view might have been really something. Now, however, the pumping stations and weirs that once kept the Chicago River flowing backwards had broken down, and raw sewage emptied into the lake. I looked at the brown water near the shore, and then at the towers farther away that still drew water into the municipal water supply. And shuddered.

“We have bottled water for drinking,” Paul said. “And the building has its own filtration and treatment facility for bath and wash water.”

“You can tell what I am thinking?” I said.

“No, but it wasn’t hard to guess, given where you were looking. Let me show you around.”

The apartment had three bedrooms. Paul said I could select either of the two that weren’t his. I must have looked disappointed, because he said although he hoped we would sleep together, there might be times when I wanted to be alone. “And I, as well. There may be times, especially when I’m getting close to a deadline, I will want to be alone – and you wouldn’t want to be anywhere near me!”

The kitchen was large and had a lot of professional equipment. It all looked new. Unused, I realized. “Do you cook?” I asked.

Paul laughed. “If it can be made in under thirty minutes in one pot, then I cook. Otherwise, it’s frozen or takeout. Speaking of takeout, are you hungry? And what would you like?”

Paul

It was going to be easy to get Bryan a high school GED. With that and a birth certificate that said he was eighteen he would no longer have to attend high school. I asked him what he would like to do about his education. After years with a “Tiger Father,” I wasn’t sure he’d want to do anything. I was wrong.

He rattled off a list of courses including biology, chemistry, and geology. It was obvious he’d given a lot of thought to this. He added, “I’d like some practical training, too. I’d like to learn scuba.” He looked out the window at the sludge that dominated Lake Michigan. “But I guess not.”

“There are other places to learn scuba,” I said. “Everyone – just about everyone – starts out in a swimming pool. In a classroom, rather. It’s too late to get you enrolled in classes at the university, and perhaps you wouldn’t want to go there, anyway.

“How about this: you and I will work together on a study plan for three core subjects including Biology, Geology, and Chemistry. I have degrees in geology and chemistry, and I know a retired biology professor and an English professor, both of whom would love to have a private student. We’ll work on getting you enrolled in a spring semester somewhere.

“Hmmm,” I said, and then named one of the old-line Eastern Universities. “They’ve been after me to join their faculty for remote teaching. I’ll bet they’d accept you as an on-line student if I agreed to do that for them.

“And Gary’s gym has a pool and offers scuba training. I’ll ask him—”

I found I couldn’t speak. Bryan was hugging me so tightly I could hardly breathe. “Thank you, Paul. Thank you. You really care! I love you so much.”

Bryan loosened his hug. “English?”

“Yes, if you don’t object. Remember what I said about standing above your peers? Being able to communicate effectively counts for more than courses and degrees. Trust me on that. Besides, I want my son to be able to talk about some of my passions, which just happen to include Shakespeare.”

Bryan and I were still holding one another. “Um …” I said.

“Um …” Bryan replied. I could feel him getting hard. Needless to say, I was, as well.

Crap. The annunciator chimed. It was security; our takeout had arrived. It didn’t have to come from far away: there were four restaurants in our complex: Chinese, Pizza, Deli, and Greek. We had ordered Greek salad with lamb and pita bread. After supper, we cuddled in front of the television. The news channels carried reports of flash mobs throughout the country, a total breakdown of law and order in New Orleans, and gasoline shortages and riots in Texas. Texas, of all places. Once, Texas had more oil wells and refineries than the rest of the country put together. Leave it to the eco-freaks to shut down an entire industry without thinking about the long-term consequences, I thought. I switched to a movie channel, and enjoyed watching Bryan while he watched Singing in the Rain for the first time.

We held hands on the way to the bedroom. Bryan had brought Zhang’s yellow cartoon pajamas home. I had washed them, and laid them out on the bed. He grinned, folded them, and put them into a drawer of the bureau.

“I don’t think I’ll need these,” he said. “Unless…?”

“Unless what?” I teased. “I can’t think of a reason short of a new ice age.”

Bryan giggled.

After showers, we cuddled. I made a mental note to have the shower enlarged. Not too large … just big enough for two to enjoy one another. Bryan must have known I wasn’t all there. He poked me in the ribs. I laughed. Chuckled. Okay, giggled. Bryan giggled back, and kissed me.

Bryan

The next morning, we had just finished breakfast—an egg, bacon, and mushroom casserole I made from frozen and canned ingredients, when Richard translocated himself and Zhang into the kitchen.

“Zhang!” I said. “Hey, I’ve still got your pajamas. They’re clean. Paul said he would buy me some, although I don’t know why.”

I stuttered for a moment and then asked Zhang to come to my room.

Richard

The boys raided the fridge for bottled water and then pounded down the hall.

“Well, that didn’t take long,” Paul said.

I knew what he meant. Paul and Bryan were boyfriends, and even I could see their love. Zhang was my little brother, son, and lover. Still, they were boys, and they needed friends – and boyfriends – their own age. There were just some things they needed to talk about, share, and experience with someone their own age. Sometimes that was going to include things neither Paul nor I wanted to know about, things like the kids’ current taste in music. I knew they were going to have sex, too. I was happy for both Zhang and Bryan. So was Paul.

I walked to the counter where Paul was about to pour coffee, and hugged him. He put down the coffee pot and hugged back. We had once been lovers. We’d been separated by circumstances, and it was only a few months ago that I contacted Paul. We, too needed someone our own age – or, in our case, close to it.

Yosemite National Park: Seven Years Before Present

Paul

The Hard Rock Lodge was a mecca for rock-climbers. After graduating from high school, I signed up for a two-week stay that included lessons, training, and supervised climbing. I was sure, then, I was going to be a geologist, and was looking forward to getting up-close-and-personal with a bunch of different kinds of rocks.

Most of the guests – who would be my classmates – seemed to be older folks, like an Elderhostel group. I was the youngest person in the dining room. Even the waiters were middle-aged. The only youngsters were the busboys, who were in their late teens. Going to be a long two weeks, I thought. Unless I can hook up with one of the busboys.

It was a pleasant surprise the next morning to find that the busboys were our guides. The class was run by a man in his thirties. Each team of six students was partnered with one of the busboys. The instructor would tell us something about our equipment, and the busboy would make sure we did what he said and hooked up everything the right way.

I was odd-man-out in many ways. My team was two oldster couples, the busboy, and I. All of the oldster were couples, and they were a group. Not Elderhostel as I’d thought, but some church from Utah. Mornings the first week were for classroom instruction; afternoons for field work. We didn’t start with climbing, but with hikes to get us accustomed to the terrain and the altitude. Half the oldsters didn’t show up on the first afternoon. After that, seldom more than a quarter of them came to the after-lunch sessions.

After supper, there was a movie, usually something about climbing: K2, Vertical Limit, and others. None of the oldsters showed up; I was the only one in the TV lounge. I heard one of them say that movies, and therefore TV, were against their religion, and found out that after supper they held praise and worship services in one of the meeting rooms. I really became odd-man-out when some of them asked me to come to their services. I was polite, and just said, no, thank you. They got pushy, and overlaid their invitations with words about the good of your soul and keeping in touch with the Lord. About the fifteenth time, I told the guy, as politely as I could, that my worldview was different from his. That was as polite a way I could think of to say I didn’t believe what he did.

The guy’s eyes narrowed. So did his lips when he pressed them together. When he was able to pry his lips apart, he said that I would burn in Hell if I didn’t see the light. Then he walked away.

The four oldsters who were on my team weren’t in their seats the next morning. I looked around the classroom, and saw them sitting with another group. None of them would meet my eyes. When they realized that I was looking at them, they turned their heads and whispered to one another. I knew they were talking about me. My team was now just the busboy and me. Fortunately, he was one of the cute ones, although I’d never felt anything special from him.

Fewer and fewer of the oldsters attended the afternoon field exercises, which now included some serious climbing. I was afraid we’d not be able to do the graduation exercise, which was to climb El Capitan. The busboy assured me, however, that we would. “Even if it’s just you and Mr. Archer, and the guides.” Mr. Archer was the instructor.

And it was just as he said. And it was on El Capitan that I saved the busboy’s life. At least, he thought I did.

A piton popped out. My busboy-guide, who was on my left, lost his grip and was hanging ten feet away from a concave slope. The only things that held him were the ropes that stretched to me on his right and to the guide on his left. The guide on the left froze, grabbed the rock, and pressed his body into it. Actually, that was a good initial response; unfortunately, he couldn’t get past that.

I pounded in two pitons and hooked a new rope to them and me. Then, I slid a couple of feet down the rock, pounded in two more pitons, and hooked a rope to them. Now, I had four pitons plus the guide on my right to hold me.

The kid who had frozen was still frozen. I could hear him whimpering. We would get no help from him. I called to the busboy who was hanging over eternity.

“Is your rope to me secure?” He nodded.

“Double secure,” he called.

“I’m going to pull in the slack and run it through a couple of carabineers,” I said. I did that.

“Now,” I called, “cut the rope to your left. As soon as you do, put your arms across your face.”

The boy knew what I meant and knew what I was asking him. As soon as he cut the rope that connected him to the boy on his left, he would swing like a pendulum from the rope that led to me. He might be dashed into the rocks. The rope might break. I might not be strong enough to help pull him to safety. There were so many ways to die; there was only one way to live.

He looked at the boy on his left, still pressed into the rock; still whimpering. He cut the rope.

He did hit the rocks, and he did bounce and spin. He hit the rocks a second time, but was able to get a handhold before he bounced away. He pounded in a piton, hooked himself to it, and began climbing. An eternity later, he was beside me. Without thought, we hugged each other with our free arms. There was a catch in his voice when he spoke.

“You saved my life. Thank you.”

I demurred, and said it was his own courage that saved him. I could see in his face that he didn’t agree. I also knew we didn’t have time to discuss it. There was a frozen kid to rescue.

That wasn’t a problem. By then the instructor and other guides were moving toward us. Later, when we reached the base Mr. Archer thanked me, apologized that we’d not finished the graduation climb, and offered another two weeks at the lodge, and another chance to climb El Capitan.

“The next group? You’ll get along with them,” he said. It had not escaped him that the so-called Christians, ignoring or defying the commandment to “love thy neighbor,” had shunned me. “They’re a bunch of guys from RPI … college students. You’ll get along okay with them.”

That night, I sat in my room checking email and reading an article in an on-line geophysics journal, when someone knocked on the door. I opened the door to see the busboy.

He didn’t say anything. Just stepped into the room and hugged me. With both arms, this time. I was surprised, but not too surprised to return the hug. I felt him sobbing.

I let him cry for a minute before I asked what was wrong.

“Nothing,” he said. “Nothing’s wrong.” He hiccoughed. “I’m crying because I’m happy to be alive.”

We looked at each other from a distance of inches. Then, of fractions of inches as our lips met. The kiss was as spontaneous as had been the hug on the mountain and the hug when he entered my room. It was meant to be. So was the sex that followed.

The boy came to my room every night for the next two weeks. In the afternoon, with the boys from RPI, we explored the trails, hills, rocks, and mountains that surrounded the lodge. At night, we explored each other.

Friday night, after we had reached the summit of El Capitan, eaten steaks from grills on the backs of pickup trucks, and been driven back to the lodge, he came to my room. We both knew it would be the last time, and we both tried very hard to make it special.

Saturday morning. I had packed, and written my email address and phone number on a piece of the lodge’s notepaper.

“I don’t know my mailing address,” I said. “I’m starting at the university in Chicago next week.

“Will you be going to college? working? what?”

“Um, I can’t go to college, yet,” he said. “I haven’t finished high school. I start tenth grade—”

“Tenth grade?” I blurted. “How old are you?”

“Fifteen?” he whispered.

“Oh, Richard,” I said. “What have we done?”

I told him that I was eighteen, and that we – at least I – had broken the law. He told me that he had an ID that said he was eighteen, which was why he’d been able to serve alcohol in the dining room and be a guide for climbers. I told him that didn’t make what we’d done either legal or right. He told me it wasn’t my fault; that he’d seduced me. I told him no judge would buy that, and I didn’t, either.

The room phone rang. It was the desk telling me that the shuttle to the airport was loading. I put on my backpack, slung my duffle bag over one shoulder, and grabbed the handle of my rolling suitcase. Then, I looked at Richard. The tears rolling down his cheeks weren’t happy tears.

“I’m sorry, Richard, but this cannot be,” I said. I was crying, too.

He nodded. I left.

A month later, when I finally got a post office box in the student union, I realized that I’d left in the room the notepaper with my phone and email address.

I learned a hard lesson from this. Not that I should have asked Richard how old he was, but that I had the power to hurt someone, and hurt them badly.

I called the lodge, but they could not – or would not tell me how to contact Richard.

Chicago, Present Day

Richard

I learned a hard lesson from this. Not that I should have told Paul how old I was, but that I had the power to hurt someone, and hurt them badly.

I had not considered Paul’s morality or his feelings. I had thought only of myself. I memorized his cell number and email address, and then destroyed the note. I was about to leave the room when I saw on the floor one of his carabineers. He did save my life, I thought. And he showed me what love might be.

I tucked the carabineer into my pocket and closed the door.

Paul

Bryan and I went out with Richard and Zhang for supper a couple of nights later. Zhang and Bryan swapped sleepovers, too. So did Richard and I. It didn’t take us long to rediscover what we’d discovered in Yellowstone, and to forgive each other for what we had done. Nor did it take long for Bryan to meet Gary and Nemesis: Richard invited them to join us at Dave and Busters.

Nemesis greeted Bryan with a hug and a more than friends kiss, which was okay with Bryan. He was comfortable with “love shared is love multiplied.” He had been worried about STDs, and I was glad he’d thought of it, but assured him that with Asclepius and his father, Apollo on our side, he didn’t have to worry – as long as he stayed in the family, so to speak.

“Bryan!” Nemesis crowed. “I’ve been wanting for so long to meet you! You know that Paul can see us even though he’s not a god. I think it’s because he’s a scientist and has such an open mind. What was it Nietzsche said about mind-body correlation? It governs how we respond to stimuli, and—”

“Sure, but he was talking about mundane things, and not the magic you and the others have. I think Kant’s notion that bodies possess vis motrix, only is more relevant in this—”

“Get a room, guys!” That was Zhang. “I mean, really, we’re here for pizza and skee ball, and not for philosophy.”

Nemesis grinned at Bryan. “You wanna?”

Bryan looked at me; Nem looked at Gary. We both nodded.

“You come to my place,” Bryan invited. “Paul’s already said he has to finish a script, tonight.”

Nemesis must have been monitoring, because I had just wakened at 11:00 the next morning when he and Bryan burst into my bedroom, pounced onto my bed, slid under the covers, and cuddled. Bryan kissed me. It wasn’t a good morning peck on the cheek. It was a deep, serious, I love you kiss.

“Um, Bryan, maybe this isn’t the time—”

My objection was interrupted when Nemesis kissed me, just as deeply and seriously as had Bryan.

“Love shared is love multiplied,” Bryan said. “We both want this.”

Nemesis broke the kiss. “And it’s okay with Gary, if you were wondering. In fact, it may have been his idea.”

The “friends tell friends the truth” was one of the rules that governed the behavior of all the gods. It was almost as if it were hard-wired into their minds. At first, the frankness was a little disconcerting to me. Later, I came to understand it. They simply didn’t have time to waste and none of them was thin-skinned. I toughened up a little, and accepted what they had to tell me.

Oh, and it was easy to accept Nemesis’s implicit invitation, and Bryan’s insistence that … well, the details aren’t important. Suffice it to say we didn’t leave bed until well after lunchtime. After showers, Bryan offered to cook but no one, not even he, was really willing to wait for him to create something, so we went to a Waffle Place for waffles, bacon, and eggs scrambled with cheese. Even though we were well above the Mason-Dixon line, the Waffle Place served grits. In fact, they served them with everything. Bryan had never had grits, before, and would have put sugar on them if we hadn’t told him that would probably re-start the Civil War.

Paul

Things were going well for Bryan and me. I sold two more scripts. Bryan got his dive certification, and we planned a springtime visit to the Bahamas so he could do some serious diving. It was a Sunday morning when Richard and Zhang popped into the kitchen after breakfast. Bryan and Zhang giggled and ran toward Bryan’s room.

“Coffee?” I offered Richard. “The water’s hot; it will only take a minute.”

“Paul, it’s time to leave Chicago,” Richard said.

“I’m not sure I can. I have a contract at the university; I have commitments for three scripts.”

“You’ve not heard? The university has declared insolvency, their word for bankruptcy, and has cancelled classes indefinitely. They’ve suspended all salaries and stipends, as well. They’ve broken their contract with you. Aiden has confirmed this. You’re free to go.

“You will have computer and internet access … as long as it lasts. You can do your research and write your scripts from safety. Paul? It’s not I, asking; it’s Dike. You are needed in Texas.”

Texas?

Paul

Richard convinced me that Bryan and I should move to Texas to a place of refuge. In fact, he called it Refuge Ranch. He wouldn’t tell me much more than that, except it had been Dike who had told him to ask me. I knew who she was, and I understood why Richard wouldn’t say more: the words of the gods could create reality.

It didn’t used to be that way, except perhaps for the top few: Zeus, Athena, Dike, Poseidon, Hades, and Vulcan – maybe a couple of others. But, now, even lesser gods had to watch what they said, and even I could see the fabric of reality was strained. As reality weakened, the gods got stronger. People and nations were looking for something to rescue them from the chaos that the human race had created. In the West, the soi-disant Christian evangelicals were filling some of the power vacuums, but the only thing they seemed to agree on was that all the wars, riots, anarchy, impotence of the leadership and the forces of law and order, were signs and portents of the end of the world, and no one should stand in its way. I was not surprised to hear some of them had been executed by the Mossad while trying to foment war in Israel, since that was supposed to be one of the signs. We didn’t hear much about what was happening in the Muslim world, Africa, the Indian subcontinent, nor in the Far East: news was heavily censored by DHS.

I talked to Bryan, and then told Richard we would move.

After that, it only took two days to pack Bryan’s schoolbooks as well as the clothes he had accumulated, his scuba gear, and some boxes of my things. We were leaving everything else: the furniture and kitchen stuff, even the food in the pantry. My computer was packed carefully in layers and layers of bubble-wrap. I had backup data on the laptop, on an external hard drive I carried with me, and in the cloud. Still, I was worried.

I had already said goodbye to my old SUV: sold to a neighbor who appreciated its special features. Richard said I wouldn’t need it. Besides, gasoline was getting very scarce. It was already expensive: thirty dollars a gallon with DHS-issued ration stamps, and nearly one hundred dollars a gallon on the black market. At least, that’s what I’d heard.

The diesel-electric van with our stuff pulled away. Aiden had handled the paperwork, and gave me a bill of lading with an address in Abilene, Texas. He also gave me a card with a snailmail address in Alpine, Texas. When I asked about the two towns, he giggled, and said, “Opsec – operational security. They’re the guys who are paid to be paranoid. You’re not going to either of those places. Your stuff and mail will be picked up in Abilene and Alpine and delivered to the ranch. Gary explained it to me. We don’t know if anyone is interested in where you and Bryan are going, but if they are, we don’t want them to know. And, we don’t want anyone to see a lot of traffic going to the ranch.”

He closed his dispatch case. “Gotta go,” he said. “There are a whole bunch of kids out there who need a good lawyer!” He gave each of us a hug, and popped out. Underlying his perky enthusiasm, I heard the sadness in his voice. I think even then he knew he was only a Dutch boy with his finger in the dike. Still, like the others, he did what he could. What will Bryan and I be asked to do, I wondered.

We waited in the lobby until Richard and Zhang appeared. I looked toward the reception desk. As usual, the woman there had not noticed Richard and Zhang’s arrival. Handy, being-a-god, I thought. Bryan noticed, however, and rushed into Zhang’s hug. Richard looked at them, then looked at me and raised his eyebrow. I took the hint, and returned his hug.

“Ready?” Richard asked.

I looked at Bryan and saw his nod. “Ready,” I said. Richard and Chang grabbed our hands, and we were in Texas.

Bryan

I knew that my daddy wasn’t okay with what was happening. He was accustomed to being his own person and to arranging his life the way he wanted to. Adopting me had been a big change for him, although I tried to make it easy on him. I looked for his moods, and when he seemed testy, kept out of the way. Even when it came to his TV scripts, he was in control, and determined deadlines. When the networks insisted on his appearances, he scheduled those, too. Richard was something different. Richard was chaos to Paul’s love of order.

When Richard told Paul we had to move to Texas, it didn’t bother me. As long as I was with him, it didn’t matter where we were. It was important to Paul, however. It was the evening after Richard had said we needed to move. Paul and I were snuggled tight. I had just exploded into his mouth, and was about to take Paul into mine when he asked me, “Bryan? Do you want to leave Chicago? Because, if you don’t, we will not, no matter what Dike or the others say.”

I thought about this for a long time. Paul waited until I was ready to talk.

“Paul, my daddy and boyfriend. I will follow you wherever you go. It doesn’t matter to me where we live, as long as we are together. Second, you and I know that these people – Nemesis, Gary, Aiden, Richard and Zhang, the others – are not only good people, but people with special powers. And they say they need our help? Well, then it must be for something good, and something important. We have to go … we have to help.”

Paul

We arrived in Texas on a knoll that overlooked an old west town. I’d done a lot of television shows, and thought at first it was a set: fake buildings for shooting movies. A second look, and I saw it was real. There were a whole bunch of anachronisms, though. Like the HUM-V that was following a couple of horses down the street … a street paved with concrete and with a white line down the center.

I checked my watch, adjusted for the hour time change, looked at the position of the sun, and figured which way was south. We were north of the town. A quarter of a mile to the east of the town stood a couple of very modern water towers topped with antennae. I didn’t see any electric lines, though. Power must have been underground. A small lake and some townhouses lay to the northeast. Toward the north and west were a bunch of farmhouses: two story, clapboard, with wraparound porches. Something looked funny, and it wasn’t the perspective. My brain finally saw what my eyes were telling it. The houses were a lot bigger than I had thought. Still, they looked like farmhouses, and each was nestled in its own grove of trees. Sunlight glittered off a lake far to the southwest. Beyond the houses, the water towers, and the lake was flat land. Some appeared to be cultivated; other land held dots that were probably cattle.

“I thought you might like an overview, first,” Richard said. “The town is going to be the center of the community. It’s got a lot of things that you’d expect: a general store that is really a department store; a couple of coffee shops; a saloon for the adults; soda shops for the kids; a movie theater, drug store, a library, and some specialty stores. And a school and a Dave and Busters. When it gets built out, there will be more restaurants, and more.

“That building’s the post office; they handle all incoming and outgoing mail and packages. Aiden gave you a mailing address, right?”

I nodded, and Richard kept talking.

“The houses you see over there hold House Parents – sometimes just House Fathers or House Mothers – and the families of the House Parents that have them. As fast as the houses are built, we’re filling them with kids from Erewhon and elsewhere. There are some single-family homes for families who aren’t house parents – mostly the construction crews. And there are town homes for folks who don’t want to do yard work. There are a couple of bunkhouses for the single ranch hands, and they have their own chow hall. There’s no apartment building like you lived in, though.”

He gave us a minute to look at it all, and then asked, “What kind of home would you like?”

I thought for a moment. “Bryan? I would be happy anywhere I can get high-speed internet. What do you want? This is going to be up to you.”

Bryan froze, and then seemed to understand. He giggled.

“Richard, first, it’s got to have a big kitchen with lots of pots and pans, food processor, convection oven, stand mixer, slow cooker, pressure cooker, and all sorts of accessories. We left all that behind, you know. Since Paul can’t cook anything that doesn’t fit in the microwave oven, I’ll have to make sure he eats. We’ll need a big kitchen.

“Second, two bedrooms each with one big bed. One bedroom is for Paul and me, and one is for Zhang and me when Zhang comes to visit. Third, a den for Paul where he can set up his computer and work. And, a shower big enough for two. And no yard work!

“I think that’s all.”

Richard had been taking notes on an iPad while Bryan talked. I heard the “whoosh” as he sent an email message, and the “ding” when a reply came in.

“Looks like we have the place for you. Would you mind walking there? It will give you a chance to see more.”

Bryan

Richard led us to one in a row of townhouses. It faced a golf course. A path from the back led to a dock on a small lake. The townhouse had everything I had asked for. The first floor was nothing but a living room and a huge kitchen with a nook that held a table and four chairs, and which overlooked the lake. The second floor had two bedrooms and an office. And two bathrooms, each with a shower big enough for two.

“Where is your home?” I asked Zhang.

“Richard and I are going to stay in Chicago for a while longer,” he said. “There’s work to be done, there and elsewhere.”

He saw that I was disappointed, and worried. He hugged me. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll come visit … I want to help you check out that new bed! And Richard and I will come to live here … soon, I think.”

I knew Paul liked to be in charge of himself and his time? This move took more out of him than I first had understood. He went into the den, plugged his laptop into power and a dataport, stared at the screen and typed. And stared and typed.

I fixed supper with things I found in the pantry and freezer: a tuna and frozen peas casserole with Bisquick crust. I thawed some strawberries to go on top of vanilla ice cream for dessert. I resolved that tomorrow I would find some fresh veges and fruit!

When everything was ready, I went to the den to call Paul to supper. He didn’t hear me the first time.

“Paul? Supper’s ready!” I said, louder this time.

“I don’t think I want anything,” he said. “I’m not hungry.” He didn’t turn around to look at me, just kept his eyes on the computer screen.

Bullshit, I thought, and then said, “You picked at your breakfast. You didn’t have any lunch.”

I walked across the room, stood behind his chair, and did an over-the-shoulder-kind-of-hug. I pressed my cheek against his, and came up with a couple of tears that would roll onto his face.

“Daddy? What’s wrong?” Yeah, I’m shameless. When I called him daddy, I knew I’d get his attention. Calling him daddy while I was hugging him, and he’d melt.

I’m pretty sure I heard a sob before he answered.

“Bryan? I don’t know if I can afford this!” he said. “I have no salary from the university; income from TV scripts is down. Partly because the anti-science fundamentalists have managed to destroy all but one of the honest science cable networks and partly because Homeland Security is demanding to see all new scripts, and is delaying and blocking anything they don’t like for any reason they can come up with, and there’s no appeal. I don’t know what this place is going to cost, and I don’t know how long I can afford it. I’m so afraid for us … for you.”

I didn’t know how to answer, but I did get him to come to supper, to eat a little, and to cuddle in bed.

This isn’t working, I thought. I’ve got to do something.”

Calvin

Dike told me she wanted a couple named Paul and Bryan to come to Refuge. Aiden, Richard, and Zhang were taking care of the details, so I wasn’t worried until a kid named Bryan showed up at 7:00 AM demanding to talk to whoever was in charge. Since that was me (okay, since that was I), I invited him in and prepared to listen.

“Look,” he said. “I know you own this whole place, including the townhouse Richard said Paul and I would live in. I know you’re probably a god, like Richard and Zhang. Yeah, I know about the gods, and I really don’t give a flying fuck. You people pulled Paul away from his world and he’s not happy. When Paul’s not happy, I’m not happy. When I’m not happy, you’d better be careful, because I’m not impressed by gods: Greek or modern.”

Wow, I thought. “Bryan, I’m glad you’re on our side. I would not ever want you for an enemy and I would like to be your friend.”

What I’d said had disarmed him. Good. That’s what I wanted to do.

“Huh?” he said

“Bryan, will you tell me why Paul isn’t happy?”

Bryan explained about Paul and order, and about Paul and money. “Everything is topsy-turvy. And Paul’s worried about where how we will live. I know it doesn’t matter to him – as long as he can find a WiFi hotspot he’s okay for himself. But he is worried about me. He doesn’t believe I would live in a cardboard box under a bridge as long as it was with him. He wants something better than that, for me.”

Bryan

Calvin’s eyes seemed to wander everywhere but my face. I didn’t know why. Was he avoiding the question? Was he trying to make sure I couldn’t figure out what he was thinking?

When he did speak, it was like he was someone different. His voice deepened, the pace of his words was measured as if he were reciting Shakespeare and the words had to come out just right. Yeah, Paul had gotten me to read some Shakespeare, and I had learned to like it.

“Bryan, although Casey and I own this ranch, our ownership is secured under the old order. We are experiencing the beginning of a new order. I’m not sure what all that will mean, but I know that Casey and I – through Dike and Richard – invited you to live here. We are therefore responsible for making sure you have food, shelter, the necessities and then some. Neither Paul nor you are expected to pay for any of this.”

Calvin’s eyes darted about, again. I figured it meant he was thinking, maybe even seeing things in his memory. I was right.

“Paul isn’t the only one who’s concerned about things being topsy-turvy,” Calvin said. “It wasn’t that long ago I watched my little brother, Casey, die. In fact, I watched myself kill him. Then, he wasn’t dead, and the man who was hurting him was dead. The things Paul is experiencing? They are a part of what is happening to all of us. We each have a story that is like his – and yours. And I know for certain that the future he wants for you is as secure at Refuge Ranch as it could possibly be.

“Bryan, I swear on my life and my honor this is true. Will you help Paul understand? If you want to, bring him here and I’ll talk to him. I’ll get anyone he wants to talk to. I’ll do whatever it takes, as long as you’ll help. Deal?”

“Deal,” I said. “And thank you.”

“And money?” Calvin reached into a desk drawer and pulled out two plastic cards. He ran their magnetic strips through a scanner attached to his computer, and then handed them to me.

“You can use these at any of the stores and restaurants at Refuge. They are associated with a legitimate bank. If Paul wants to transfer money to this account, he may. In fact, if he has money in accounts outside of Refuge, I recommend it. There may be things he wants from outside that only outside money can purchase. For outside money, these are cash cards. Inside Refuge, they’re purchase cards. There is no limit to what you can spend them on here at Refuge. Their only purpose is to help us track inventory so that we can replenish stores – as long as we are able to.

“If there are things from outside that Paul or you want to spend money on, and there’s not enough in your old accounts, please let me know, and I will arrange it. On the other hand, please caution Paul against ordering things to be delivered. We have drop points for deliveries.”

“Yeah, Aiden gave us an address,” I said.

Calvin looked briefly at his computer screen. “If you have any questions, ask me or Casey, or one of the others … they all know you … at least, who you are … and they will all answer any questions you have.”

Paul

When I woke up, Bryan wasn’t there. The bed and my heart were cold.

Bryan had finally talked me into eating some supper and going to sleep. I couldn’t have sex with him, although I knew he wanted it. I had curled up, and finally gotten to sleep.

I was still groggy when I heard Bryan open the door, and call to me. “Wake up, Sunshine! I have good news.”

I managed to stumble into the kitchen where it was nearly 11:00. Actually, it was nearly 11:00 everywhere in our new time zone; it’s just that I didn’t realize it until I reached the kitchen and saw the clock above the bulletin board. Eleven o’clock.

Bryan handed me a cup of coffee creamed and sugared exactly as I liked it.

“Where’d the coffee come from?” I asked. There hadn’t been any last night.

“I stopped at the general store on the way back from talking to Calvin,” I said. “They had it in whole bean and ground. Since we have a burr grinder, I got the whole bean. Do you like it?”

“Yes. It’s good. Who is Calvin? And where did you get money?”

“Calvin’s the boss around here – the whole thing, Refuge Ranch, belongs to him and his brother. There is a bank, too, and Calvin gave me cash cards for you and me. I used one at the general store.”

Bryan

It took a while to explain everything to Paul; and, after it was over, I wasn’t sure it really was everything. There was a lot to think about.

They made it easy, though. The computer came up with a “Welcome to Refuge” screen, that had links to FAQs and presentations that explained what was going on, and where we were.

Gary and Nemesis came to visit that afternoon. They brought fresh bread and some tomatoes. “Mrs. Gordon sent the tomatoes and the bread” Gary said. “You’ll meet her, in time. She’s one of the House Parents.”

“How do you like this place?” Nemesis asked. “Gary and I are living in one of the cabins, with thirty-two boys from Erewhon. It’s confusing, sometimes, at meals and on washday, but they’re all gay, they’re all cute, and they all need a couple of cute, gay role models.

“Gary does the gay part, and I’m the cute one.” He giggled. Gary punched him lightly in the shoulder.

“I don’t know how you can deal with something like that,” Paul said. “I’m just getting accustomed to being in Texas and not Chicago.”

Paul

Bryan made me realize I was being an idiot and that I wasn’t doing something I was supposed to do: taking care of him. I was so wrapped up in myself, I had forgotten he was not just my lover and boyfriend, he was my son, and I had daddy responsibilities to him.

It was like waking up from a dream. I spent the next week with Bryan, walking around, hiking some pretty tough trails around the ranch, taking pictures that I put on the computer, and picnicking at some impressive places: springs, waterfalls, glades.

On the third day, we hiked to the south, hoping to reach the big lake by lunchtime. We didn’t make it. About 10:00 AM, we crested a hill and saw the solar panel farm.

“Wow!” I said. “I’ve never heard of a private solar farm this big.” Acres and acres of panels spread out on the southern slope. I watched, expecting them to slew to follow the sun. They didn’t.

“Bryan? Do you have something heavy, something I can tie to this string to make a plumb bob?” I asked. I’d pulled some dental floss from my pocket and cut off several feet of it.

Bryan handed me a small pocketknife with a loop attached. I made a plumb bob, and asked Bryan to stand in front of me with his compass.

“What’cha doing?” Bryan asked.

“Something’s wrong, here,” I said “These panels? They’re not positioned for optimum capture; and, they’re not following the sun.”

We didn’t make it to the lake, but spent the rest of the day crawling under the panels, unlocking the stops that kept them from slewing, and wiping off years of dust. By 4:00 PM we were filthy, tired, and still less than a tenth done, but I called a halt, and we trekked back to our home. First thing the next morning, it was I and not Bryan who knocked on Calvin’s door.

Calvin

Gary was conducting the meeting, even though we were in my office. Tom, the construction foreman, and a couple of his men were there. So were Casey and Kevin, Uncle George, and two of Gary’s Army guys. Richard had brought his friend, the new guy, Paul, and Paul’s boyfriend, Bryan. When Paul wasn’t looking, Bryan caught my eye and gave me a thumbs up. We grinned at one another, and I made a mental note to get to know him, better. He was smart, he was cute, and he had courage. He would make a great role model for the younger boys, and a good friend – maybe, a good boyfriend.

“We’re going to plan for a population of 3,500 people,” Gary said. “That number is based on a couple of things. One is how much more construction material we can bring in, and how fast Tom’s crews can work without cutting corners. Another is how much storage space for food, gasoline, diesel, and other stuff we can create. Casey will explain the main reason, though.”

Casey was our planner. He and Kevin, both of whom were computer geeks, had put together spreadsheets to track construction, material acquisition, people, everything you could think of.

“We don’t know how long we’re going to have to do without outside help,” Casey said. “We’ve always grown corn, wheat, sorghum, peanuts, rice, potatoes, and silage. We’re going to add some different kinds of beans, including soybeans. The canyon is huge, but the ground that’s suitable for crops is limited. The 3,500 number matches closely what our calculations say we can feed.

“Every cabin will have a vegetable garden, and those are being staked out, now. We’ll be able to use gas-powered tillers as long as we can get gasoline. After that? Shovels and hoes.”

He paused to make a note. I guessed the note said, “Order more shovels and hoes.”

“All the lakes have been stocked with tilapia and catfish,” Kevin added while Casey was busy. “They were already stocked with bass and bream. We’ll not be able to harvest the new fish until next fall – it’s going to have to be catch and release until then.”

It was my turn. “We’re changing the composition of the herd, going to long-horns that can survive on scrubby pasture. We’re reserving the better pasture for the dairy cattle.

“What’s the status on those?”

One of Gary’s opsec guys answered. “The trucks started leaving Kansas City this morning just before dawn. Staged about an hour apart, the last one will leave tomorrow around midnight. It’ll take them about 12 hours to reach Midland, where they’ll offload at a ranch, there. The guy who owns the ranch was in our company in Afghanistan. We trust him. He’ll load the cattle onto closed semitrailers that will get here starting in four days. This second set of trucks will make two or three round-trips, each over several weeks. He’s bringing his herd of dairy cattle and longhorns here, too. They’re in Calvin’s plans. The man and his family have already been cleared to move here. They’re going to be house parents in Cabin 87.”

“We will start taking delivery of MREs in a few days,” Gary said. “The Meals Ready to Eat are used by both the military and FEMA following a disaster. The ones we’re getting were ordered, but not paid for, by FEMA. The manufacturer is happy to sell them to us for half-price.”

“Who do they think they’re selling to?” Tom asked. He’d been in the Army, too, and the opsec stuff fascinated him.

“A survivalist group in Montana,” one of the opsec guys said. “The trucks will be from Crete, Nebraska, and they’ll head west just like they were going to Great Falls, Montana but instead of turning north at Denver, they’ll turn south. The trucking company is exclusive carrier for a company that buys a lot of cattle and ships a lot of dog food. The trucks will be manifested for that, in case they ever get stopped.”

“The problem that’s going to face us as soon as the MREs arrive is where to put them. We just don’t have the room, and they should be kept in a cool place – the cooler, the better.”

“Um…” That was Casey. He looked at me. Calvin? Please don’t punish me. I’m sorry, I disobeyed, really I am, but this is important!

I had no idea what he was trying to tell me, but I sent back. Casey? I’ve never punished you! If you know something important, tell us, at least, tell me. I promise I’ll not punish you. You’re my brother! I love you!

Casey nodded. “I know where we can store all the MREs in the world, at fifty-five degrees Fahrenheit, year around.”

Several eyebrows were raised. Paul nodded. “You know where there’s a limestone cave?”

Casey’s mouth opened wide. “How did you know? I mean, yes. Calvin and I found it a long time ago. He made me promise never to go in, because it might be dangerous. I did, though. It’s huge! But how did you know?”

“The topography and the geology, as well as all the water, especially the springs. A lot of this canyon rests on limestone parent material. When you said fifty-five degrees, year round, I knew it had to be a cave. Will you show me?”

Paul blushed a little. “Sorry, I hope I haven’t crossed a line.”

I knew instantly what he meant. He was the new guy. He wasn’t a god. He hadn’t been in the Army with Gary. He was a little unsure of his place. So I answered. “Paul, you hadn’t been here more than a couple of days before you showed us how to quadruple the capacity of the solar farm just by fixing the existing equipment to work the way it was supposed to. You are a full member of this community. Please believe that.”

“Thank you, Calvin,” Paul said. “When can we…?”

“Right after the meeting, if Calvin says it’s okay,” Casey said.

“Of course it’s okay, and I want to go too. Maybe one of Tom’s men?” I asked.

Tom nodded. “I’d like to take a look, myself. We may need to enlarge the entrance, make a road, and definitely build some dunnage racks.”

“That solves one problem. There are a couple of other things to think about,” Gary said. “Gasoline and diesel are going to be problematic, since they break down after a while. We’ll have fuel stabilizers, but they can only keep the fuel useable for a couple of years.”

Paul sort of umm’ed like he had something to say. I caught his eye and raised my eyebrow.

“You’re sitting on a huge natural gas deposit,” he said. “The geology of this place clearly shows … well, if the deposit could be tapped, all the trucks, tractors, HUM-Vs, can be converted to run on that. And, it would be available for heating, and hot water. You know the electricity that can be generated here won’t be enough.”

“Shit!” That was Casey.

“What?” I asked. And don’t say shit!

Casey grimaced and then grinned, and then said. “I’ve got to find and buy more than 100 institutional-sized gas stoves and water heaters. And spare parts. And figure out how to get them here.”

“And about 400 miles of pipe,” Tom added. Casey giggled.

“Don’t forget well-drilling equipment,” Paul said.

I laughed at that. “Well-drilling equipment? Not a problem. This is Texas, and you can get that kind of stuff at the Five and Dime.”

Paul

I felt a lot better after Calvin’s little speech. The ranch was swarming with high-powered people. It was easy to tell who the gods were, and there were a lot of them: Calvin and Casey, who owned the ranch; their boyfriends, Aiden, Kevin, and Bobby. Uncle George, of course. Richard and Zhang when they were in residence; Gary and Nemesis; Tisiphone and her sisters; and Dike, who was a frequent visitor. The ranch hands were something more than human, too, but I hadn’t figured them out, and no one had volunteered to tell me.

I was more worried about Bryan than about me. Because he was my boyfriend and Zhang’s, he was thrust in the company of boys who had powers – Authorities. I was afraid he’d feel inadequate, and I needed to keep an eye on that.

After the planning meeting, Casey invited Bryan and me to lunch with him and Calvin. Tom, too, since he was going to explore the cave with us. And Kevin, and Aiden. We were all pretty excited. It was like we were kids – even those who weren’t kids – going on an adventure. Then I realized, these people were under a lot of pressure, and for them, this was an adventure, a break from the stress.

Casey and Kevin were bent over their iPads the whole time we ate, poking in notes and whispering to one another. When lunch was over, Kevin announced that equipment was waiting for us. “Hank has a HUM-V outside with flashlights, rope, hiking sticks, hard hats, canteens, a camera. Anybody besides me need to change to boots?”

Kevin and Aiden, who were wearing trainers, rushed out of the kitchen, followed by Calvin and Casey. Bryan and I had been planning to continue our exploration after the meeting, and wore hiking boots. Tom, of course, wore steel-toe work boots. Casey and Calvin wore cowboy boots: okay for horseback riding; not so good for hiking and caving.

The cave was all Casey said, and more. Tom did a little back-of-the envelope surveying – actually he drew on Casey’s iPad and emailed the drawings to himself.

“We’ll not be able to get semis this far,” he said. “I want to put in gravel to this point…” He gestured. “We’ll offload the trucks at the pavilion, and use a HUM-V with the trailer to bring stuff to here. After that, it’s going to be manual labor. I don’t want to do any blasting, and we don’t have time to enlarge the opening any other way. I’ll get dunnage racks made from scrap lumber. Actually, we’ll haul the lumber here and make the racks once we’re inside. We’ll run a cable across the ground for electricity for lights; later, we’ll bury it.”

“Why not run gravel all the way, and why not put in utility poles,” Casey asked.

“Opsec,” Tom said. “Gravel road can be spotted in satellite imagery. So can utility poles. I don’t want anyone to know where the cave is.”

Satellite imagery, I thought. And not just DHS. The French still have a satellite in orbit. The Chinese, Russians, Japanese, and South Koreans, too. Who else? India, maybe. Someone is sure to spot the new cultivated land, the new buildings. This place is going to stand out like a redheaded step-child at a family reunion.

“Calvin? May I talk to you for a minute?”

We were walking back to the HUM-V after exploring the cave. He nodded.

“Sure,” he said.

“You heard what Tom said about satellite imagery. But it’s more than a gravel road and a few power poles.” I explained what I was concerned about.

“Shit,” Calvin said. Then, he really scared me. He spoke to the empty air in front of us. “Uncle George, I need you.”

And Death stood before us.

“Tell him, please,” Calvin said.

I described my concerns. Uncle George got pale. “It may already be too late,” he said. “What can we do?” His question was addressed to me.

“Not too late,” I said. “But it soon may be.”

“We have some options. Camouflage. Hack the downlinks and delete any future photos of us – replace them with old stuff. Hack the control system and keep them from photographing this area – and others, too so that a holiday area in Texas doesn’t tip them off. Destroy the satellites. Destroy the main databases. Destroy the ground stations.

“Those are my first thoughts. We might want to get some other folks in on this. Some of the Army guys?”

Uncle George and Calvin probably were talking mind-to-mind because they grabbed one of my hands and Bryan’s, and we were back in Calvin’s office. He started making phone calls. In minutes, the opsec guys were there. I told my story once again, including some of the ways to hide us.

The opsec guys looked at one another and shook their heads. “Calvin, I’m sorry, but this is way above our pay grade and security clearances,” one of them said. “Paul knows a lot more than we do. Who were you with? Homeland Security? CIA?”

I shook my head. “What I know is from open sources,” I said. “There’s probably a lot more, out there. It might help if there were some way to get into military or intelligence data bases, though.”

The Very Large Array radio telescope observatory near Socorro, New Mexico, had not been operational for years. There was no immediate military application, and there certainly was no profit to be made nor any contribution to homeland security. The liquid helium that had chilled the receivers to near absolute zero in order to increase their sensitivity had long ago boiled away. That was okay. We weren’t going to listen to the stars, but to satellites that were a lot closer. And, we were going to talk to them.

Bryan

Paul was the leader of the expedition. I knew he was uncomfortable with that. There were a bunch of gods along on the trip: the Alpha Computer Geeks, Kevin and Casey; Nemesis, Gary’s boyfriend and god of Retribution, even though his powers were limited unless someone needed to be retributioned. And Tisiphone, but none of her sisters. Paul asked me if I wanted to go. I knew he was still worried about me – a mortal boy in the company of greatness, so to speak. Of course, I said yes. I didn’t want my mortal daddy running around with all those gods by himself!

In good times, it would have been an eight-hour drive. We couldn’t translocate – too much heavy equipment. Paul had built a transceiver to attach to one of the radio telescopes, and a backup transceiver. We figured we’d need our own power, so we had a trailer with a generator and a tank truck of fuel – and gas for the vehicles, too. We ended up with quite a convoy. Casey drove a Mercedes SUV; Paul drove an F-450 dually crew-cab with a trailer. The transceivers were boxed up in the bed of the truck; the generator was on the trailer. Kevin drove a truck full of supplies. Nemesis drove another SUV – something Swedish, I think. HUM-Vs with ranch hands led and followed. More ranch hands rode in every vehicle.

We were ambushed just outside Hatch, New Mexico. A landslide partly blocked the Interstate, and we had to slow down. And bunch up. I guess that’s what the ambushers had in mind. We made a compact target. A rocket-propelled grenade exploded in front of the lead HUM-V, which stopped abruptly. The rest of us bunched up, even more. Then, men in hunting camo swarmed over the sides of the road from where they’d been hiding.

The ranch hands saved us. The three in the back seat of the crew-cab opened the doors, and stepped out with weapons I hadn’t even known they had. Paul pushed my head down, but not before I saw cowboys with automatic weapons lined up on both sides of the road firing at the ambushers.

I’m not sure our attackers got a shot off except for the first RPG. Paul kept his hand on my head and lay on top of me until the shooting stopped.

“We’re okay,” he said into the radio. I heard Casey and Nemesis acknowledge, then Kevin, and then the men in the HUM-V’s, “Escort One,” “Escort Two,” “Escort Three,” “Escort Four.” Just like on TV. I giggled, but my laughter was tinged with relief.

There was only one guy at the VLA. He was living in a camper parked outside what the signs said was the control building. He thought we were official – maybe his relief come with food and fuel.

“I’ve got another couple of days of gasoline for the generator on the camper. And food for another week,” he said. “You guys got here just in time.”

“I’m sorry,” Paul said. “We’re not from the government or the university. We just need to borrow a little time on the system.”

Paul chuckled after he said that. Back when, observation time on the VLA had been more precious than gold to radio astronomers who were making some incredible breakthrough observations. Not SETI – the Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence – or anything like that, but on the nature of the universe. What they discovered had contradicted the views of the evangelicals. It frightened them, and they’d lobbied successfully to get the system de-funded.

The guy in the camper, who had introduced himself as Dr. Adams, chuckled, too.

“That generator will power no more than one dish at a time,” he said. “And unless you brought liquid helium – well, even one antenna won’t be of much use.”

Paul explained we only needed one of the twenty-seven dishes, and that we’d be working some satellites in both geosynchronous and what he called Molniya orbits.

Dr. Adams was clearly puzzled, but agreed to help. “It’s not like they can fire me,” he said.

It was three days later before we were ready. Power was easy. We hooked up the generator to a dish, cranked the generator, and ran a self-test. The first antenna we picked froze before it could slew in a full circle. The second one, however, tested out okay. Then Paul insisted on testing until we had identified two, working backup antennas.

“If anyone figures out what we’re doing, we’ll find ourselves under time pressure. If the first antenna fails before we’re finished, we won’t want to waste time identifying another.”

Next we replaced the receiver on the working antenna with the transceiver Paul had built, making sure it was perfectly aligned to get the most out of the antenna’s reflective surface. The transceiver slid into the old receiver slot, perfectly. Dr. Adams was impressed.

“That’s pretty amazing. You won’t have to align it, will you? How did you do it?”

“The specs were on-line at Berkley. Well, at their backup in Kansas.”

Dr. Adams looked away for a few seconds. Tisiphone was the one who figured out something was wrong.

“Are you okay, sir?” she asked.

Dr. Adams straightened up. “Yes, thank you.”

He shuddered like he was shaking off something I couldn’t see. “When the rioters burned the Berkley campus, I lost several friends, including one very special friend. I’m glad, Paul, you were able to retrieve the data from Kansas. It will be a memorial to them. They were all part of this program.” He waved his hands at the acres and acres of antennas.

The next day, Dr. Adams opened a safe in the control room and pulled out a three-ring binder. Red letters on the cover spelled out TOP SECRET. There were other words, too, funny ones.

“We have to know when satellites are transiting, and which ones send data back to earth so we can filter out their transmissions. This data base is two years old, but it’s a safe bet nobody’s launched anything since then.”

Paul had explained to Dr. Adams what we were going to do. Paul was a little anxious, but Dr. Adams had nodded and opened the safe.

Kevin and Casey put information from the binder into their scheduling software.

“Three more satellites, Paul,” Kevin said. “It will make the schedule tight on days two and four, but it’s do-able if there are no problems.”

Paul nodded. “Thanks Kevin. Casey? Would you give the flash drive to Dr. Adams—”

“Uh, Paul?” Dr. Adams interrupted. “I’m not the only one here with a PhD. I recognized you the first day. But I’m the only one who doesn’t seem to have a first name. My fault, I guess. Please, will you and the youngsters call me Bob?”

“Sure thing, Dr. Bob,” Nemesis said. He was the closest to Dr. Adams – now Bob – and gave him a hug. And read him. And let the rest of us know that Bob was not gay, and the special friend who had died in the Berkley Riots was a girlfriend. Naturally, we all started thinking about who to hook him up with. Except Tisiphone, who heard what we were thinking, and snorted her derision.

Oh, yeah. I heard Nemesis pass the word. Don’t know if he made sure I could hear his mind, or if I was getting powers – the ones Apollo said I’d get. I kind of hoped I wasn’t getting powers. I was afraid of how Paul would react.

Within an hour, we were ready. Paul read numbers from his iPad. Dr. Bob typed them into a computer hooked to the antenna we’d selected. The rest of us stood by the window, fingers crossed, watching. The antenna slewed. As soon as the sensors reported the antenna had stopped vibrating, the computer transmitted the hack that was on Casey’s flash drive.

Tisiphone read numbers off a computer screen and compared them to ones on her iPad. At first, she hadn’t wanted the iPad. “Boys and their toys!” she said. But when she found the iBooks app, and downloaded a bunch of books from the iTunes store, she was hooked.

“Antenna was on target when the transmission was sent. We’ll know in … three orbits if we got into its system.”

“Thanks, Tisiphone,” Kevin said, and poked at his iPad. “Ready for the next one, Paul.”

Actions and conversations like these were repeated for the next four days. They were interspersed with reports of success.

“India-zero-one reports hack accepted and has shut its receiver to any message without our unique header,” Tisiphone reported. The next day, there were three successes. On Day 3, we had to re-hack a Russian satellite. We didn’t find out until Day 5 that we’d succeeded. Paul was getting antsy. I was getting worried about him.

We had set up a small tent city near the control building. Paul and I were the only boyfriend pair, but I was pretty sure the gods were polyandrous and no one, except perhaps Dr. Bob and Tisiphone was doing without. Actually, I wasn’t sure about the two of them.

After Paul’s breathing slowed, I asked him what was worrying him. He hugged me so tight I was scared.

“If we don’t get the last two satellites tomorrow, we may be exposed. The USA and China will get to them before we can, and lock down their software so tight even Kevin won’t be able to hack it.”

“I don’t understand? What happens tomorrow? I mean, the satellites are just supposed to not take pictures of the ranch and some other places so people won’t be suspicious, right?”

I felt Paul tremble. “You and I, and Kevin and Bob are the only ones who know this,” he said. “The whole world will know after tomorrow, if it gets past the military censors. We’re not just reprogramming the satellites. Each of the satellites has maneuvering thrusters so their orbits can be fine-tuned. In wartime their orbits can be changed to focus on specific targets rather than just winding around the earth like a ball of string.

“Kevin has reprogrammed the satellites not to take pictures of the ranch, all right. But he’s also programmed them to self-destruct. Tomorrow, at midnight our time, the satellites will begin turning their maneuvering thrusters so they point forward, directly into the orbital vector, and fire them until the fuel is exhausted. They’ll fall to earth rather quickly after that. The programs we’ve loaded will cause them to land in Antarctica, since a lot of them have nuclear power supplies, and that may be where they’d do the least damage.

“Dike said we weren’t the only Refuge, but she wouldn’t or couldn’t say where others were. However, they had to be protected, and this was the only way to do that.”

We got the last two satellites. Paul was confident enough in Kevin’s software that the convoy was packed up and ready to roll by 9:00 AM. We put the generator in a shed, after draining the fuel.

Paul looked over the VLA. “Some day, somebody may come back here.” We all knew he was kidding himself, but none of us was willing to say it, not even Dr. Bob.

“Bob?” Paul said. “We’re going back to a place we hope will survive what we believe to be the coming collapse of civilization. You’ve helped us immensely. However, we don’t make this offer from gratitude, but because we think you may be able to help us – a fair trade of your knowledge and talents for the hope of safety we offer. Will you leave here and return with us?”

I knew Paul and Nemesis had talked about this, and Nemesis had talked to Gary.

Bob nodded. “I understand why you were doing what you were doing, you know. You’re protecting your refuge, and other places of safety, aren’t you?”

Paul nodded.

“Yes,” Bob said. “You’re good people and what you did with the radio telescopes to help save people is the real memorial to my friends, not some drawings on a server in a salt mine in Kansas, which probably won’t survive long, anyway.”

The satellite news channels talked about heavy meteor activity over Antarctica for the next several weeks. Paul had done a program on meteors from Mars that fell on Antarctica, and reruns of that show made him quite a celebrity. He declined requests for interviews, though. We could communicate with the outside by email and VOIP through surrogates that Kevin, and therefore Calvin and the Army opsec guys, trusted. But a video feed would have had too wide a bandwidth, and would have been too hard to secure.

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