Blessed are the Persecuted, Part II
by Johne Cook

Tenerife no sooner

reached his rooms when he started shaking and sweating in the grip of severe adrenalin crash. His heart was racing - it hurt to breathe. He felt confused, angry, alienated and utterly alone. He sat on his pillow with his back to the wall. The hand resting on his leg wouldn't stop shaking. He stared unseeing at a shadow in a corner of the ceiling, recent events looping over and over in his mind's eye; Venti Phlagg meeting him in an obscure location, trying to share a secret he'd uncovered, and being unceremoniously shipped out before he could reveal it.

Through the mental haze and the conflicting emotions that battered him, one thing seemed clear - Senator Rache had proven himself to be an unexpected technological genius, thoroughly connected to events on the station that Tenerife had neither knowledge of or access to. Tenerife felt outgunned, outmaneuvered and outplayed.
And then the hormones ran their course and he fell into sleep's unconditional embrace.

He opened his eyes and he was floating among the stars, free of gravity, stress or guilt. The brightest star was before him. He reached for it. It warmed him from within, and kind of tickled.
And then he was walking on a remote trail, at one with nature. He rounded a corner and found his mentor seated on a log, saying nothing, staring intently at something on the ground.

At first, Tenerife felt like sprinting to greet him, but then his guilt flared up and he felt like sprinting away from his mentor. Then Tenerife took a deep breath and walked up to stand before his mentor, heart pounding. “Teacher, I chased something off the narrow path and lost my way. I was wrong. I'm sorry.”

His mentor raised his head and looked him square in the eye. And then he smiled. And then he looked over Tenerife's shoulder.

Tenerife turned to follow his gaze and saw Eyeo™ float past, quoting a scripture verse with the over-dramatic flair of a Shakespearean actor.

“Eyeo™?” Tenerife ran after him.

The PDA turned and bleeped in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

Tenerife looked around. He said, “I don't know anymore. What seemed so clear is fuzzy to me now. Before, I was looking for clues. Now, I'm looking for direction.”

Eyeo™ clucked. “You already have the answer close at hand.” Eyeo™'s light flashed out and illuminated something buried.

Tenerife reached out his hand and grasped what felt like the hilt of a sword.

“What do I do with this?”

“Wield it, I'd say.”

Eyeo™ floated closer and Tenerife looked at the strangely-glowing obsidian triangle. “Eyeo™,” he asked, “Why haven't you spoken with me like this before?”

The PDA started squawking loudly at him in laughter, which sounded remarkably like...

Tenerife awoke to the sound of the alarm coming from Eyeo™ over on the desk. He raised himself up on one elbow.
“I'm up,” he said with a raspy voice, and the alarm subsided. Tenerife rested there for a moment, absorbing the dream and its implications. “Eyeo™,” he said, “what was so funny?”

The PDA was quiet, and after a moment Tenerife started laughing to himself. Tenerife said nothing more about it. If Eyeo™ didn't want to comment any further about the events of the night, Tenerife wasn't going to, either.

~~~~~

As the light of an artificial sun slowly crept in from the window app on the flat-panel on the wall, Tenerife rose and got ready for the day, keeping a clandestine eye on Eyeo™. After he had spent fifteen pointless minutes aimlessly cleaning the room, he realized he was avoiding something, took a deep breath, and decided to face it head-on. He went over to his desk.

He looked closely at the little pyramid. “Eyeo™, was anything said in this room while I was sleeping last night?”
Eyeo™ immediately chirped. “Yes. A voice recited a scripture verse from your Bible.”
Tenerife felt very strange, as one does when one feels they are experiencing déjà vu the first time around. “What voice?” he said.

“I don't know,” said Eyeo™.

Tenerife felt cold, like someone was walking on his grave. “If you hear the voice again, please notify me.”
Eyeo™ chirped.

“What was the verse?”

Eyeo™ displayed the verse on the white wall behind him.

“Galatians 6:1: ‘Brothers, if someone is caught in a sin, you who are spiritual should restore him gently. But watch yourself, or you also may be tempted.’”

One thing was clear - that was the same statement he remembered Eyeo™ quoting in his dream during the night. Where had it come from?

Tenerife sat down in his desk chair and leaned back, going back over in his head the broad sequence of events starting with Venti Phlagg's demotion and his own promotion. Ever since that day, he'd gradually forgotten the new mindset he'd acquired when he accepted Honorable Discharge from the Space Marines and had decided to walk a new path. He'd forgotten to do the things he'd started learning to do, stopped thinking about his new relationship with God at all. He realized with a shock that God hadn't abandoned him, it was the other way around. While focused on his promotion and his own schemes, Tenerife himself had slowly drifted away from the God he'd been so intent on learning to serve. And the events leading up to the adrenaline crash from the night before weren't God's fault, they were his own.

Tenerife pulled open his top right desk drawer and pulled out a simple, sturdy wood box. He opened the cover on its hinges. “Eyeo™,” he said, “I need some time to myself.” He picked up the small obsidian pyramid, seated it in the box, and closed the cover.

You already have the answer close at hand. Following an impulse, Tenerife pulled open the main drawer and looked inside. Sure enough, there was a sword. Of sorts.

He smiled to himself and pulled out a real book with a great many very thin pages. He read for thirty minutes, and then he closed the book, closed his eyes, and took care of some long-overdue business.

~~~~~

Tenerife strode briskly into his office with a real bounce in his step for the first time since he'd been promoted to Ambassador. He went to his desk, bypassed his computer, and burrowed in his desk drawer, eventually producing a pad of genuine paper and a functioning pen. He started writing, and kept at it until finishing just before his first meeting of the day at 10 a.m. Writing notes by hand on real paper was expensive and archaic, but it was off the grid and nearly imossible to snoop. He closed the pad and locked the drawer.

He whistled as he walked out of his office.

~~~~~

Tenerife saw Chris in the corridor at the Nexus outside of the Great Hall. “Chris, are you doing anything for lunch? Would you like some company?”

“That would be nice,” she said. “I've been hoping to meet with you, as well.” They got a table at the nearest eatery.
After ordering, Tenerife said, “I've been wondering about something. Your species is clever and resourceful, but we've never noticed any strong military presence. I would have thought a world the size and complexity of yours would not have been able to get by without one.”

Chris gave Tenerife a long and frank look. “Your Senator Rache asked me that question, and I dissembled - I simply don't trust him. However, I sense I can trust you, and somebody from the Terran side of the table should be aware of our history,” she said. “I don't know what's different between you and the Senator, but I feel you really do want what's best for both our peoples.”

Tenerife nodded.

“We do have a strong military; however, three things happened that removed it from Garçonne space. We could have handled any one event by itself, but taken together, the three simultaneous events proved tenacious. As it is, we're reeling and desperate for a diplomatic solution. At the moment, you are our last, best hope for peace and protection.”

“What happened?”

“To make a long story short, we were hit with a regional spat, an intergalactic invasion, and an election.”
Tenerife sat back as his food was delivered. “You have my rapt attention!”

Chris smiled charmingly and continued. “We have a large and comparatively modern military, which we designed for primarily defensive purposes. Furthermore, our equipment is built on our own designs of equipment we've traded for from the other side of the jumpgate. That treaty enabled us to get a quick leg up when we were being threatened by a truly fearsome race, but more on them in a moment.

“While we are introspective, our nearest neighbors, the Hlath, are from an inhabited moon of limited resources and zealously desire our home world. Their organic technology is inferior to our augmented tech, however, their culture is more aggressive than ours. I'll come back to that in a moment, as well.

“The big news is that we were invaded by truly fiercesome aliens from the Brazen Cluster, the Dray. We control the jumpgate that connects our system with theirs. They launched an unprovoked attack on our home world. The jumpgate is our only connection with other worlds with which we maintain vital trading agreements, including with the technologically-advanced Sopaleethe, who supply the microprocessors and miniaturized circuitry crucial to modern computational devices and all manner of vehicles, from scooters to shuttles. The Dray tried rushing the jumpgates, and our military flooded through and kept the gates open and secure. Barely.

“With our military tied up on the other side of the Brazen jumpgates, the Hlath have taken the opportunity to bomb our cities and factories. We tried to open negotiations with them, but their only interest is in conquest, taking for themselves what we've built.”

“You said something about an election?”

“Oh, yes. Well, the civilians tired of war, and during the next election, a party rode an anti-war ticket right into office, and they effectively closed down most of the military manufacturing. Until something changes, we're being harried by the Hlath, our space navy must remain vigilant on the other side of the Brazen jumpgate to guard against the Dray, and we have little further production for the foreseeable future. So we're forced to try to trade for what we need, which is why we need the Terran alliance so badly.” Chris looked at Tenerife. “But if your Senator believes we are abomination by our very existence, as he has said, and sabotages the negotiations, we will be in grave danger of losing everything.”

Tenerife nodded soberly. “I've been thinking about that. Something weird is going on, and I'm trying to put my finger on what. Well, for now, I'm in charge of negotiations, and I'm willing to fight for your cause.”
Chris smiled. “Your reputation as a warrior precedes you. If you're willing to fight for us, we are indeed in good hands.”

~~~~~

Tenerife was back at his desk later that afternoon when the Senator popped his head into Tenerife's office. “How are the negotiations going?”

Tenerife nodded. “They're going well. We're working through discussions of import and export taxes, tariffs, inspection regulations and quotas. You know, the usual.” He grinned.

Rache nodded and pretended to leave, pulling back long enough to fire a parting salvo. “I'd like to see your thoughts on a possible embargo on my desk by this weekend. In fact, I'd like a report on my desk each night after you're through to keep abreast of your progress.”

Tenerife frowned. “Embargo? The Garçonne are being as cooperative as they can be. Even bringing up the idea would as subtle as a declaration of war.”

The Senator actually smiled. “There's nothing that says we'll have to implement an embargo, but 'always be prepared' is my constant phrase. I'd appreciate that report on my desk by first thing in the morning.”

“As you wish,” said Tenerife. Compiling daily reports was nothing new in the diplomat's game. It is one of the reasons the TDC allowed Tenerife to keep Eyeo™ - the PDA could double as a secretary and take dictation. Frankly, all things considered, Tenerife was surprised that the Senator was so agreeable in the aftermath of the scene the night before with Venti and himself. Perhaps his primary quarrel really was with Venti and not with Tenerife or the Garçonne.

Tenerife left his office at 7 p.m., ate something on the way back to his rooms, and wrote with Eyeo™ from 9 p.m. until 11 p.m. He worked to condense the events of the day into a bullet list of discussions and conclusions, and then included page after page of more detailed conversation.

Tenerife was weary when he started and groggy when he finished. He told Eyeo™ to package it all up into a bundle and forward it to the Senator's personal digital assistant. Then he told the light to turn off, staggered to his bedroom, and fell face-forward onto the bed. Monday down, just five more until he could relax.

~~~~~

He was awakened five hours later by a strident communicator tone coming from Eyeo™. In the darkness, Tenerife grumbled into his pillow, “Eyeo™, who is it at this hour?”

“Incoming video from Senator Rache.”

Tenerife groaned. “Audio-only Answer: 'Hello?'“

Eyeo™ displayed a holo-image of the Senator's nose and fish-eye view of the Senator's forehead. “Hello? Hello? Ambassador Tenerife? Is that you? I can't see you - your video is broken!”

A rational thought plowed through Tenerife's fatigue and arrived, glittering and whole in his mind. For a super-hacker, the Senator seemed remarkably clueless about basic phone functionality. “I'll have support look at that.” He rubbed his eyes and looked at the time on Eyeo™'s display. He grimaced and ran a hand through his hair. “What can I do for you at this hour, Senator?”

“Where's Monday's report? I told you to have it on my desk first thing in the morning. I'm at my desk but there's no report...”

Tenerife yawned. “I sent it to your PDA...” he looked at his bare wrist, “a few hours ago.”
The Senator banged his desk and Tenerife winced reflexively. “That's not my desk. I don't have a PDA on my desk. My PDA is in a box back in my offices on Earth. In the meantime, my desk is here, and there's no report on it!”

Tenerife was astonished. No PDA? From the technological mastermind? Nobody who was anybody could afford to be without one anymore. That marketing war had been waged and won years prior. “I'm sure we can request another for you...”

The Senator picked up the phone and the view whirled crazily as Rache paced wildly around his room. “I don't want another PDA, I want your report printed and ON MY DESK!”

Tenerife blinked as dread overwhelmed him. He sat up as dread overwhelmed him like a bad dream. “You want me to print my report? On actual paper? Daily? And hand-deliver it to your office on the other side of the station? Every night? There are no trams running that time of night. By the time I'd hoof it over there, that's a full thirty minutes from here. That's a full hour for the round trip.”

The Senator slapped the side of the phone, causing the video to jerk sideways each time. “Hello? Is this thing on? YES! I want that report right HERE, right NOW, and every morning when I get in!”
Tenerife glared. “But...”

“I don't think I like your attitude, 'Ambassador.' Get me your report or I'll get us a new diplomat! Your initiative on the phone is completely off...”

The display abruptly went dark. Tenerife knew the phone likely interpreted the Senator's 'off' statement as a command and disconnected, which wouldn't help Rache's attitude any.

Tenerife sighed and swung out of bed. As he started moving around, he couldn't help but think that something more basic was disconnected as well, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Tenerife got Eyeo™ started printing the report and started some coffee in his kitchenette.

It was 5:30 a.m. by the time Tenerife printed the report and showered and dressed. The trams wouldn't start running until 6 a.m., which meant that he'd have to hoof it this morning as well.

As he stepped out into the corridor and started walking, Tenerife's brain was just kicking into gear. Was the Senator really as petty as all that, forcing him to jump through all those hoops to convey information easily and securely sent through the fiber? Or was it something else?

Tenerife made it over just before 6 a.m. and went to the desk at the hotel where the Senator was staying. He asked where the Senator's offices were and was shown to the door. He knocked.

“Come in.”

“I brought the report over as requested.” He placed the manila envelope on the Senator's desk. “Look, Senator, I don't mind drafting the report after a long day, but schlepping it over here in person is unnecessary. There are couriers who can perform that task if absolutely necessary.”

The Senator leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “If I wanted a courier to deliver it, I'd get one. However, these reports are too sensitive to entrust to just any courier, or just any network. I know what I'm doing.”

“But...”

“Do you still like your post, 'Ambassador?'

Tenerife gathered himself with an effort. “Yes, Senator.”

“Then humor me, please.”

A hundred things raced through Tenerife's mind, but overriding them all was Galatians 6:1. Restore him gently. “Very good, Senator,” said Tenerife, and then he turned on his heel and left.

~~~~~

It started that first night, and Tenerife learned that the Senator retired early each night, and his office was locked. Feeling just a tad daring, he slid the report under the door and went on his way. It went like that for three weeks, Tenerife working long days at the office, transcribing his report, and then delivering it on foot to the Senator's office.

Tenerife resorted to various tricks to pass the time on his walks over and back. He listening to music, various audio resources on the rich history and culture of Garçonne, and sometimes prayed, still working out how to best communicate with the spirit being he was trying to get a feel for.

Late one night, Tenerife saw Von Klevver walk out of a coffee shop. He hailed the other man. “Mr. Von Klevver!”
The maintenance man stopped and turned with a furrowed eyebrow.

Tenerife caught up to him. “Look, I wanted to apologize for the other night. I'm not entirely sure what happened, but I was stunned and let my shock get the better of me. I'm sorry for my behavior.”

A smile blossomed on Von Klevver's face. He slapped Tenerife on the back. “No hard feelings.”

Eyeo™ chirped in Tenerife's pocket and said something muffled. Tenerife resolved to ask Eyeo™ about that later.

Von Klevver continued. “Frankly, I was conscripted into something without knowing all the details. I won't let that happen again. The Senator knew I had a key card to Mr. Phlagg's rooms and conscripted me into helping him open the door. We threw some clothes into a couple of bags, and then he took off before I heard what was going on. I had no idea what he was doing.”

Tenerife nodded, putting more pieces of the puzzle together in his head. “Water under the bridge, as they say. What brings you out so early in the morning? I know what dragged me out of bed. What's your story?”

“You know how it goes - no rest for the wicked. What about you?”

As they walked, Tenerife told him about the Senator's strange demands. Von Klevver stroked his chin. “Hmmm… I may be able to do something about that. We have some uni-scooters scattered about. Those will whisk you right along, and are fun to pilot, to boot.”

“That'd be a huge help. But there's something I don't get,” said Tenerife. “All this time, I thought the Senator was this technological genius. This bit about not using a PDA doesn't track. And he acted like he'd never seen video disabled before.”

“A tech genius? The Senator? Senator Rache?” Von Klevver slapped his leg and about doubled over, laughing. Tenerife stopped walking and watched his friend expend his merriment. Finally he calmed down. “I can tell you this much - the Senator is no super-hacker. He can barely operate his phone.”

Tenerife nodded slowly. That explained his odd behavior earlier. “Is it that he's all thumbs with technology, or is it something deeper?”

“Oh, yeah, he's a Luddite, no question. He doesn't just distrust technology, he hates it. He calls it...”

“Let me guess; 'abomination?'“

Von Klevver laughed.

Tenerife was astonished. “Well, if true, that answers one set of questions very well, but presents an entirely new set. For example, how is he able to achieve such technologically-proficient security breaches if he's a Luddite?”

Von Klevver turned strangely red, like he was hiding something. “He has 'people' for that. He's told me before that he doesn't need to have a grip on technology as long as he has a grip on people.”

“So when he's obviously bugged my office...”

Von Klevver appeared a trifle uneasy. “Yeah, he has a guy who does that.” They arrived at a closet. “Here's a keycard that will operate the uni-scooter.”

“How do you know it will work with this scooter? Is it keyed to a particular closet?”

“It works for any of them, a universal card.”

“Wow, thanks. Do I need to message you and let you know where I get or leave them?”

“No, I'll know.”

“Thanks,” said Tenerife, filing that information away.

“Don't mention it. Please.” Von Klevver laughed and headed off in another direction.

Tenerife watched Von Klevver stride away and stroked his chin in thought. The picture began to clarify in his head.

He checked the time on a display overhead and hopped on the uni-scooter. He could still make it if he hurried, so he sped on down the corridor toward the Senator's palatial quarters in the ritzier section of the station.

As he navigated his way, it occurred to him that the Senator had explicitly hinted that he was a whiz with technology. That led Tenerife to his first epiphany of the day. If the Senator had lied to him about that, what else had the good and holy Senator lied to Tenerife about?

And that led Tenerife to the best idea he’d had since Rache arrived at the station.

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~~~~~ <~
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