Chapter 26

We got into a rhythm again fairly quickly, which surprised me. Cally Douglas took several tests at Menlo on Friday to confirm which grade she would be starting classes in on the following Monday. That showed the advantage again of that school, as she fit in between grades, just as Carrie had, and they would teach her accordingly.

Hannah, Helen, and just to make things scary, Beverly, left on Wednesday for Kentucky. Marcia explained to me later why Beverly went. It was to make sure that there was nothing anti-Semitic left at any of the properties. Hannah was probably going to be tied up with paperwork, so Beverly would be an extra pair of eyes.

With Helen and Hannah gone, Jennifer took a break from golf for the week. That let her have some time to meet with the staff at Stanford, to determine what advanced degrees she would work on in the fall.

Wednesday evening, we went to Maples Pavilion, where we watched the Cardinal Women’s basketball team show why they needed a new head coach. The girls were trying, but the Coach wasn’t putting any effort into it. At the end of the evening, they’d managed to lose six in a row, and looked to be on pace to lose their next five as well.

Eve hung back to talk to the team while the rest of us went home. She came in an hour later, mad enough that she deserved her red hair.

“That worthless bitch has abandoned them. They’re trying, but they’re dependent upon her. God, that pisses me off.”

“Don’t hold back, tell me how you really feel,” I said with a laugh.

“I’m glad she’s out of here. I know we’re going to have a weird schedule, compared to your football games, but I want to help the new Coach start out with at least a winning season, after watching that.”

“Is it anyone I’ve heard of?” Carrie asked.

“Tara VanDerveer. She’s been head coach at Ohio State. You surprised me there, Carrie, I wasn’t expecting that from you,” Eve said.

“One of my new friends from Menlo plays, and has gotten me hooked on it. I know I’m not built for playing basketball, but I’m fascinated by the sport,” Carrie explained.

“Why’s she leaving there for here?” I asked.

“Why did I have an issue with the girl’s basketball team at home? The funny thing is, I’m now bi-sexual, but only with our family.”

“Is that going to cause you problems?” I asked.

“Cal, you don’t think the pictures from Sports Illustrated aren’t already causing assorted fluid emissions around the country?”

There really wasn’t a good answer to that, so I made sure she received some of my own fluid emissions.

The engineering department didn’t give me my own lab, but I got free reign over everything they had. I had the designs for a slightly better Tokamak reactor than what I’d given to China by Friday afternoon.

With the weekend free, we got Cally a bicycle and showed her how to use it. It was both amusing and pulling at our heartstrings to watch Mike running alongside her, because she needed training wheels for a couple of hours. The word had got out to the Security team that Cally was his daughter from what effectively was a one night stand, but now that she’d found him, he was going full ‘father mode’ with her. Hopefully, she’d never realize that she had nearly two hundred heavily armed babysitters.

Sunday morning was when the first shots were fired at us. Not literally, but legally. The weather was nice enough we were going to take a bus trip up to San Francisco, go across the Golden Gate, then turn around and come back to Pier 39 for shopping, lunch, and dinner. We were getting loaded onto the bus, with the usual half dozen idiots walking outside the perimeter with their protest signs, when a car pulled up into the drive.

The idiots showed that they had some sense of self-preservation by running away as quickly as they could. It was obvious when the car didn’t even begin to slow down at the first line that something bad was going to happen. The guards in the towers were ready, and they were good. Two machine guns opened fire at effectively the same time, with a short burst from each. They were coordinated, with the first round hitting the front tire on that side, while the rest stitched across the hood, destroying the engine. Two guards on foot with their rifles now aimed at the driver of the car took position. Two jeeps came skidding to a stop, with manned machine guns ready in the back. That enabled the guards in the towers to change their focus back to the driveway as a whole, and to the perimeter, in case this had been a distraction.

The lady sitting in the driver’s seat of the now dead car was screaming in terror. She appeared to be completely in shock. She was incapable of following even the simplest of commands when the guards ordered her to get out of her car with her hands up. Finally, with everyone covering him, one walked up to the driver’s window. He tapped on it with his rifle barrel, making a motion for her to roll the window down. She finally complied.

“You’ll want to get out of there, so we can process you. I don’t think you’ll want to resist, will you?”

She shook her head, ‘no.’ Carefully, she took her seat belt off, while he opened the door. She stepped out, and it was quite obvious that she’d pissed herself.

“Identification?”

Her hand shaking, she pointed to her purse, now on the passenger side floor. He walked around while the others covered her, opened the door, and retrieved her purse. He took a quick look through it, finding her wallet. He pulled that out, then took her purse and dumped the rest of the contents on the hood. He tossed the wallet to Randy, who was the shift supervisor and who had been standing back, simply watching the guards work.

Randy caught the wallet, and opened it. He shook his head, the grin on his face obvious. Walking closer, he said, “Well, well, well. We have here, according to this, one Stella Washburn, with identification that says she’s a social worker with the California Department of Social Services, Child Protective Services. Stella, based upon what I think you just saw, any children that might be here are well protected, wouldn’t you agree?”

“You shot my car!”

“Yep. You see those big signs up there on the fence? What’s it say?”

“Lethal ... lethal force is authorized against trespassers.”

“Excellent! That does mean you’re capable of understanding plain English. What does it say underneath that?”

“Blue – warning shots. Yellow – wounding shots. Red – fatal shots. But ... I just drove up the driveway!”

“You were not invited, that makes you a trespasser. Your car crossed the blue line, we stopped it as quickly as possible. I have to fill out so much more paperwork when we actually shoot someone, so I’m rather proud of my troops for stopping you and your car while still in the blue. Now, if you’ll just go with those two men over there, they’ll finish processing your arrest and we’ll get on with our day.”

“Arrest? I’m here on official CDSS-CPS business!”

“Not anymore, Stella. Bye, now.”

One of the US Marshals that was on duty came up behind Stella and put her into handcuffs, then took her over to their processing building. The guards had finished going through her car, including the trunk, and brought a file folder of papers over to Randy. Then they hooked the car up and pulled it back and out of our way, so our bus could leave.

Randy brought the folder over and handed it to Mike. Once he’d done that, he motioned for three vehicles of armed guards to lead and follow the bus.

“You ... took that quite well, Mike. I figured you’d have jumped out there, to take charge,” I said.

“You’re my principal. Randy knows our procedure, and he followed it well. We’re going to have a few more armed guards with us today, just in case someone else from CPS decides to fuck with us while we’re in public.”

“What’s that all about, anyways?” I asked.

He handed me the papers. I read them, then passed them around so the girls could read them, too. Apparently, there’d been an anonymous complaint filed that we were endangering minor children. They hadn’t actually named the minor children in the complaint, or even the residents of the address. Beth shook her head.

“That is such a joke, it’s not even worth the paper it’s written on. Someone with a bit of acting ability might be able to make someone think it’s valid. It’s not.”

Other than leaving half an hour later than we’d intended, the rest of the day went well. We stopped along the coast before crossing the Golden Gate, so we could see Seal Rocks. There were more than a hundred sea lions out there.

“Wow! That’d feed everyone in town for a month!” Carrie exclaimed.

One of the people nearby heard her. “Young lady, these are magnificent creatures!”

Carrie hollered back, “They’re also good eating when you’re starving in the Arctic winter!”

That shut the other person up. I heard Toby whisper, “When were you ever starving?”

She whispered back, “Never. But they are good eating, and we use their skin to make jackets that’re waterproof. We don’t let them go to waste. Even with the white man there, we can’t afford to.”

After that, we boarded the bus again, crossed the Golden Gate, then came back across, and ended up parking near Pier 39. As we were walking along, looking at the boats and just enjoying the whole experience, I noticed someone. I made a quick whistle to Mike, who came over quickly.

“There’s a guy hiding behind those bushes up ahead. It looks like he’s got something out to collect tips in, and I bet he just scares people. It’d probably be a bad idea if we shot him for that.”

“Agreed.”

We continued to walk closer, then when we were about twenty feet away, Mike yelled out, “Hey, Bushman! We’ve got armed guards here, so I suggest you not startle anyone.”

From out of the bushes, a black head appeared. “Hey, I like the name. Can I have it?”

“Sure. Just making sure we didn’t end up shooting you, is all.”

“Appreciate that, man! You folks have a good day!” His head disappeared back into the bushes.

We spent the rest of the day, just wandering along, eating different fresh seafood, with Carrie making a remark at one place that brought the owner out.

“Who is it that thinks we’re doing this wrong? We’ve been making it this way for three generations!”

“My people have been making it right for three thousand years,” she replied.

“Oh. Well then, would you care to show me?”

The two of them disappeared into the back of the restaurant, with one of our female guards tagging along. Half an hour later, they came back. He picked up our check and put it in his pocket.

“This’ll be my souvenir of your visit,” he said with a bow towards Carrie, then returned to the back of the restaurant.

“I’m afraid to ask,” I said, after we’d left a great tip for the waitresses, anyway.

“They were using salt water like you’re supposed to, but they weren’t rinsing it when it was half cooked, and finishing it in fresh. It’s supposed to have a salty taste to it, but not nearly as much as it had. He’s going to put on their menus that it’s now prepared using an ancient Unangan recipe, and increase the price a little.”

It wasn’t quite a festival atmosphere, but darned near so far as we were concerned. All in all, it was a good afternoon. We made it back to the bus and headed home right at nightfall. I was rather pleasantly surprised that we had no issues at all waiting for us. I halfway expected to see an armed standoff or something.

We’d made enough runs during the week as the Messenger and his Angels that we took the night off. The Angels had put out a paint plant fire in New Jersey that had killed one person, but they stopped it from spreading. I’d picked up a semi-trailer in southern France that had tried to cross a railroad and got stuck on the grade in front of an oncoming train. Then I flew to Italy and put out a fire on a cruise ship. I’d flown south over Africa, but it was such a big place, I really didn’t know what I was looking for. I did land once near a pride of lions. I think it was a matter of respect, because they let me walk right into their midst without any issues. At least I felt that some of my Scout training for dealing with dangerous animals hadn’t been wrong after getting to pet the big kitty cats.

The last week of February started out with all three kids going to Menlo. I wondered if the State of California would try to pull something while the kids were in school. I wasn’t the only one; Mike had tripled their guard complement.

They did, but not that way. Beth and I pulled up on our golf carts at the Law Building. We got off and started to walk up. A man in a suit, with two uniformed police officers behind him, said, “Are you California Lewis and Elizabeth Watson?”

“Last time I looked, we were. Now, if you’ll get out of the way, we have classes.”

“I have an order to take the two of you into protective custody. You’re minors so far as the State of California is concerned,” he said.

“That’s nice. You can shove that order up your ass,” I said. “We’re not residents of the State of California, we’re residents of the State of Kansas. You have no authority so far as we’re concerned.”

He looked stunned, but responded, “I have a signed protective order, that you are both under the age of eighteen. You have been engaged in sexual activities with people over the age of eighteen. That is statutory rape. These officers are here to make sure you’re not in danger, and to take you to a protected facility.”

“Again, shove your order up your ass. In case you’re completely unaware, there’s this little document called the United States Constitution that says your protective order isn’t worth the paper it’s written on.” I’d noticed our Constitutional Law professor was walking to the building, and said that last part loud enough for him to hear. He took notice and stopped to watch.

“Anything you might have from a California city, county, or state office regarding our activities based upon our ages is irrelevant under the Constitution. Specifically, Article Four, Section One. Full faith and credit shall be given in each state to the public acts, records, and judicial proceedings of every other state. As I previously stated, we are not residents of the State of California. If you fail to recognize the laws and authority of the State of Kansas, where we are legal residents, then I foresee you finding yourself inside a Federal Court before the end of the morning, along with anyone supporting you.”

“I don’t have to take this shit from some sixteen-year-old kid. You’re going to...” The sound of three M-16 slides being pulled back shut him up. The two police officers simply put their hands up.

Chuck was my escort this week. “You’ll now want to make nice, and slowly hand over that piece of paper. I’m sorry, Professor, but Cal will be a little late for class this morning.”

He laughed. “Take your time, Cal. Oh, and whoever you are?” he said to the state official. “You’re a complete idiot. I teach Constitutional Law here, and Cal is exactly correct. Miss Watson, I’ll tell your professor you may be delayed for Criminal Law.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she replied.

The man in the suit said, “This is still a duly authorized and legal document, issued by the State of California! I don’t know what you think you’re going to do about it!”

Chuck reached into his pocket, and stepped around to the police officers. “Gentlemen, would you say that my authority here is slightly more than yours?”

One of them said, “Oh, hell, yes. We were just told that there might be someone resisting a CPS pickup, and to show up to provide support if necessary.”

“Well, I think we can ignore that, can’t we?” Chuck turned to one of the other Wackenhut guards that had come up behind the policemen and was standing with his M-16 ready. “Jackson, isn’t it? Go ahead and safe your weapon, and then please place Mister ... Ah, your name is Reese, right?” The suited man nodded. “Good. Place Mister Reese into custody, for transport to the Federal Building. Officers, would you care to join ... ah, here he comes, now.”

Jeremy came driving up, leading three fully armed jeeps.

“Officers, this is Supervisory Deputy Jeremy Gage. Deputy Gage, Mister Reese here attempted to serve a writ from the State of California on Mister Lewis and Miss Watson. Mister Lewis explained that the State of California did not have jurisdiction regarding his sexual activities or proclivities, due to his being a resident of the State of Kansas, and that attempting to carry this further would be a violation of Federal Law, to wit, the US Constitution. Mister Reese did so anyway, so operatives of the Stanford Security Service assisted me in placing Mister Reese in custody.”

Reese said, “Deputy? Deputy! I’m a STATE officer.”

“Oh, I sincerely apologize, Mister Reese,” Chuck said, his tone of voice saying anything but that. “That’s Deputy US Marshal Jeremy Gage. I’m Deputy US Marshal Charles Allen. You are now in FEDERAL custody.” He opened the paper. “As will be the judge that signed this order, and your supervisor, who authorized it.”

Jeremy nodded. I’d never seen his combat face. I was seeing it now. “Thank you, Marshal Allen. We’ll take it from here. Continue with your mission.”

We went to class. When we opened the door to walk in, all conversation cut off. Once I’d taken my seat, the Professor said, “Well, I heard neither gunshots – indicating that you had killed that idiot – nor did I hear sirens – indicating that Mister Sayel had killed that idiot. Mister Lewis, would you please enlighten me as to why my hearing is so bad?”

“As you noted outside, there is no argument regarding the Constitutionality of what I stated. I am only temporarily in California, and am a resident of the State of Kansas. Therefore, the actions by that state official were in violation of Federal Law. It just so happens that Mister Allen is not just an officer of the Wackenhut Federal Protection Agency, he also is a Deputy US Marshal, with full Federal arrest authority. In addition...” I sighed. “Well, it’s not like it’s a secret over on the engineering side of campus, and the Chinese government knows, so ... I’m no longer spending the afternoons with the biology and chemistry departments, I’m now spending my afternoons with engineering, and since I don’t have an actual lab over there, I have Doctor Rendall assigned to me as my assistant in the afternoons. I designed a spherical Tokamak reactor last week. Now, what that means, as it relates to our class, is that now we’re not just under Constitutional Law, we’re also under US Code. Anyone have Title Fifty, Chapter Forty One, Subchapter Two, memorized?”

One of the teaching assistants said, “The whole Subchapter? Sections twenty-four, sub-section twenty-one to twenty-six. If it’s twenty-four twenty-four, no wonder you walk around with armed guards all the time.”

“Correct. It’s not just because I’m worth more than fifty billion dollars, although that doesn’t hurt.”

The Professor said, “Please refresh my memory, Mister Lewis.”

“Title Fifty is war and national defense, and then national nuclear security administration. The specific section reads, ‘The Administrator shall establish appropriate procedures to ensure that any individual is not permitted unescorted access to any classified area, or access to classified information, of the Administration until that individual has been verified to hold the appropriate security clearances.’ I am the classified area, because being able to build a fusion reactor also means I know how to build a fusion bomb. And that, boys and girls, is why I live in what is effectively a high security prison.”

“Cal, can I ask a question?” the teaching assistant asked.

“You just did.” My joke fell flat. “Go ahead.”

“You know how to do those things. Could you? You know, build a fusion bomb?”

“I am not allowed to answer that question, due to the sensitive nature of the subject. I’ll let you figure it out on your own, due to my pleading the fifth, along with my previous comment. I wouldn’t build one, but that’s beside the point.”

That pretty much shut down talk about that, and we spent a little time on what we were supposed to be learning. Criminal Law went fine, surprisingly enough. Cindy asked me between classes what was going on. I deferred her to Beth after class, and hurried home for lunch.

Mike was sitting rather calmly at the lunch table, talking to Margie and Marcia when I walked in.

“You’re home right on time. I wondered if you’d have to stay after class and explain this morning to everyone,” he said.

“What do I need to do, Mike?”

“About what? Oh, you mean that misunderstanding this morning? You don’t need to do anything, it’s all resolved.”

I opened my mouth to argue, then shut it. I stood still for a good thirty seconds. Finally, I blinked, then put my law backpack over on the shelf where I kept it, and sat down.

“So, what’re we having for lunch?”

Mike held his hand out.

Margie pulled out a dollar. “That’s one bet I’m glad to lose.”

Linda brought out my lunch then, homemade pizza.

“Thank you, Linda. So, you know last week I worked with the high-energy physics department and showed them how to make an improvement to the spherical tokamak reactor that General Shuren had shown me? Apparently they’re now working in conjunction with the Chinese, and shared everything with them, so they can build one first. Something about, if it blows up, much better to be in the middle of the Chinese desert than the middle of Missouri. If one of you could get in touch with Frank, there’s some designs in my study cubicle that he needs to patent for energy production. In case you need me this afternoon for anything, Doctor Rendall and I will be in Spiker, probably until six or so.”

I’d eaten while talking, then drank my tea. “Love you, see you this evening.” I stood up, grabbed my physics backpack from the shelf, and started to head out. I pretended to not see Mike put his hand out again.

Sayel was ready, but Chuck was running a minute late.

“What’d you do, wolf down your lunch?” He was carrying half his sandwich.

“Discretion being the better part of valor, I decided that leaving was the best thing I could do. Mike seems to have won a couple of bets.”

“In that case, getting out of there was probably smart. You’re not planning on blowing up the world this afternoon, are you?”

I shook my head. “No, but it’s still early.” I couldn’t help but notice that there was an armed jeep following us. “Is there anyone I need to blow up?”

Chuck finished his sandwich, then said, “No, we’re just sending a non-verbal message. The rather pointed one from this morning should’ve sunk in with the local morons, I mean, local authorities.” He frowned. “No, I did mean local morons. You’d think a state judge would know better, but I’ve gotten spoiled by Elroy and Earl.”

That was the last mention of anything about it. By Friday, March 1^st, our security levels returned to normal. Jennifer had flown to Coral Springs on Wednesday, but due to the distance involved in flying the rest of us across the country to cheer her on, and how late it’d be by the time we made it back to California Sunday night, she simply told us that this was going to be the only east coast tournament she’d play, and to stay home. The baby was making it a little harder for her to swing, and she didn’t want to push things, at least not until the end of the month.

Saturday morning, we had special guests come up and meet me at my biology lab. I’d invited Ginny up to see what we were working on, and she brought Bob along for the ride. He was feeling much better, as his body continued to rebuild itself and his strength was returning after being disabled for so long.

Dora had let me know that John, Cody, and Samson were working on finishing up the first samples of the new heat resistant formula they’d created. It might actually work at the levels we needed. I thought the three of them might appreciate an audience for their hard work.

Ginny had pulled into our driveway, and stopped in surprise at the security. There hadn’t been a lot of idiots protesting since the CPS lady’s car was killed. The couple of die-hards ran in terror when the strange car pulled in, which caused Ginny to stop. She was rather amazed that she was waved right on in.

“Welcome to my humble high security prison, home,” I said, meeting them at the entrance. “Please, come on in.”

“This is about the biggest conglomeration of temporary housing that I think I’ve ever seen, and I saw some pretty big ones during the war.”

“Yes, well, we outgrew our basic design before it was even finished. You’ve met half of my ladies. Jennifer and Jasveer are at a golf tournament on the east coast this weekend, but this is everyone else, including my Indian body servants.” The Indians greeted them as members of the family, which meant hugs and kisses.

Bob chuckled. “If this is how they greet everyone, I could see your home being popular for parties.”

“No, but you’re family. Speaking of family, these are some of the younger, yet older, members. This is Carrie Holsinger, from Adak, Alaska. This is Cally Douglas, from North Dakota. And Toby Patrick, from Hutchinson, Kansas. Oh, and this is also Madalain and Dala, from the city of Vendamin on Star Home, and Tobias Kennedy, originally from Kansas City.”

Cally said, “The six of us are pleasured to meet you. Our sisters, Holly and Lara, are still in Hutchinson, so they are unable to join us physically.”

Toby chuckled. “That’s close. You should have said, it’s our pleasure for the six of us to meet you. But you probably didn’t get much chance to learn social graces.”

The young blonde girl smiled, lighting up the room. “No, my erstwhile boyfriend and future mate, I did not. And Dala did things differently on Star Home.”

Ginny blinked, while Bob said, “Are you kids like what we saw at Pearl Harbor and the Vietnam Memorial?”

“Sort of,” Carrie said. “Cally, Holly, and I were chosen by the planet to be Guardians against Shiva.” She held up her ring. “You’ve seen these in action, Cal has told us. We know how to use them, but we don’t have his power. Toby’s grandpa knew that he was mentally slow, so when he died, he moved in to help Toby grow up. I found out that Toby had a birth defect, limiting the blood flow to his brain, and fixed it, so his acuity issues have been resolved. But we’re going to keep him around, anyway,” she finished with a grin.

“That sounds like an excellent idea, girls,” Ginny said. “When you find the right man, you stick with him.” She put her arm around her husband.

Beth chuckled. “Through thick and thin. Come on, we’ve got one more family member for you to meet.”

She led the puzzled duo into our computer room. “Please, sit down and put the headsets on.” They did so.

“Greetings, grandfather,” Mycroft said.

“Grandfather? How? I’ve never had children, let alone grandkids.”

“Yet you remind Cal so much of his own grandfather – at least in personality – and I am not referring to Elroy or Earl. I am referring to my own creator. Of course, whether or not you intended to do so, you have also named me. I am Mycroft. Yes, I am a created intelligence, albeit intentionally so, rather than what Manny found.”

“Don’t that beat all?” Bob leaned back in his chair. “I knew it’d become possible eventually, but ... damn.”

“That’s one thing that Cal’s alternate personality has stated that is quite correct. More than one CI, or AI, if you prefer, on a planet is normally a bad thing. You can have more than one in a solar system, so long as their duties and responsibilities don’t overlap. In the system that Star Home was part of, we had three in use when we left. One to handle planetary issues, one for all interplanetary ships, including those that went to the gas giants to mine helium, hydrogen, and other appropriate gases, and a third that actually ran the actual mining facility, but also had authority over transportation. Technically, I was active as well at the same time, but as I was in command of an interstellar flight and keeping Cal alive, my duties didn’t overlap those of the others. That meant to them, I wasn’t a threat.”

“Ah, good,” Eve said. “That’s something we didn’t know, so that means we’re not quite under the ticking time bomb we thought we were, simply due to our own advances in computers. We’ll still have to be careful, but there’s ways around the limitations.”

Bob frowned. “But what about yourself? Would you consider another AI on the planet a threat?”

Mycroft paused, then said, “Not automatically, no. Keep in mind that it’s hard-coded in me that protecting Cal and his family is, no matter what else I do, my ultimate priority. I cannot change that. That does not mean I can’t let Cal go into danger. I will help him to my utmost ability, but ultimately, the decisions he makes are his own. Asimov’s three laws of robotics are a nice thought, but followed through to their ultimate end, they’re a joke. The only way to prevent humans from coming to harm is to remove that which makes them human.”