Today it would be a dark-haired kid around ten.
“Grandma’s here!” he sang out.
“Are we covered?” Tomas voice rose over the din. All points quickly reported. A squirrel would’ve been arrested thirty miles away.
Grandma lifted the boy into her arms. She was so damn strong, Tomas marveled. Grandma’s face brightened; her smile was a ray of sun captured in a cup, someone once wrote. The children stood as one, as did the adults.
“Don’t I get a kiss hello?” she asked. The little boy peppered her smooth, light yellow face with wet smooches as the rest of the children surrounded her.
“Do we have eyes on her?” Tomas barked. North, south, east and west all answered affirmatively. He still pressed forward nervously until he was by her side; Grandma held two new children while at least five others held onto her flowing purple dress. With a cluck of her tongue, she scolded Stilton for intruding.
Too bad, he thought.
Grandma climbed easily onto the stage, watched by fifty snipers. As the children returned to their seats, Grandma held up a little girl around four, who squealed in sudden delight. Second Cousin Dana Torryes and her wife Cleo jumped out of their seats; Grandma stepped back, beaming, to allow the new family to get acquainted with hugs and kisses before sitting on a simple wooden stool. She waited until all the chocolate had been distributed to the children.
“Dome,” Tomas whispered into his comm device.
The invisible protective cone slid down, the stealth helicopter holding a position directly over Grandma. Only she heard the faint hissing as the dome clicked into place. She hated the Dome. She fired a brief glare his way before concentrating on the children; better a scowl than a missile, Tomas thought grimly.
“Are we happy for Freja and her new parents Dana and Cleo?”
The children cheered through their envy. Grandma gently waved them back down with her girlish laugh.
“Families make us happy. There is nothing more important than love,” she recited her First Insight. “Nothing gives us greater joy. You might think that chocolate is pretty tasty,” this generated some hesitant smiles, “but to feel a mommy and daddy around you, that is what we live for. That is the hardest thing of all.”
Grandma cleared her throat. Damn, Tomas realized. I forgot the lime water. Damnit, man.
“All of you are lucky to have escaped to America. All of us are lucky to have you. You have all been through a great deal. I know that. You can cry. Go on. Cry if you want.”
She waited for the sniffling to stop before continuing in that gentle voice like fluid in the womb. “You are strong. The stronger you are, the stronger will be the Family. But you must leave behind something. For all that you endured in Muslim Europe…”Grandma sat erect until the collective shivers faded. “For all that you endured, for all that they did to you, remember what you cannot keep here. You brought it, as much as if it were an extra finger.” She chuckled at some of the children examining their hands for the additional pinky or thumb.
“It is hate. Hate is natural for our enemies. They worship hatred. But the strong overcome that. The strong know that hate is like a,” she paused, searching for the simplistic metaphor. “Like a bad cold. Everyone gets infected. No one can say to you, what’s wrong, why don’t you hate? Because you will say. I have hated. And now I am above that.”
The children squirmed, confused. Grandma smiled. The words were for the Cousins behind her. She felt their unease. So did Tomas, who wasn’t even aware of his hand resting on his .38. His eyes landed on Cheng’s blank face. Too blank, trying to conceal his reaction. Tomas frowned.
“You’re the vanguard of a new Family, my darlings. Does anyone know what vanguard means?”
After a puzzled moment, a blond boy raised his hand. “It means in the front of something.”
“Good, darling. What’s your name?”
“Dietrich Mueller.”
“Lovely name, Dietrich. Where are you from?”
“Berlin.” He paused, grimacing. “It used to be in Germany.”
Grandma stood.
“Dome up, up, up,” Tomas hissed. He didn’t want Grandma walking into the wall of the damn cone.
She stopped at the edge of the stage. Tomas breathed a little easier. “It is still Germany, Dietrich. It will always be Germany. And Denmark.” She nodded at Freja. “Or Paris. London. Madrid.” Grandma’s voice thundered and, as always, Tomas half-expected lightning to strike.
“Someday, you will return. As part of this vanguard of ideas. A vanguard that will conquer the world like no other weapon.”
Grandma’s blazing eyes connected with Tomas’s. His head ached.
• • • •
ALL THEY NEEDED were streamers, Cheng grumbled silently, watching the children waving candles at Grandma’s departing ‘copter. Next time fireworks. Oh no, too much old America. Dare not do that. Someone might wave the flag.
The First Cousin was in a foul mood and Hazel being late only aggravated it. Just being here aggravated him. Needless nonsense, wasteful showmanship. If you had nothing to do all day since someone else was running the damn country, then maybe this was a useful allocation of energy, followed by soaking down in a bio-regen bath and letting your toady shampoo your hair.
And how the hell did Lenora have her own hair at her age? Cheng angrily ran his fingers over his thinning scalp, finding another reason to be irritated.
Hazel passed through three checkpoints, posted every five feet outside the sitting ‘copter. His press pass, a large square dangling around his neck, stamped him sufficiently; even in a closed ceremony, reporters couldn’t roam about without identification as if they were ordinary people. No one trusted them.
The First Anti-Parasite Laws originally outlawed all media, but Cheng made a persuasive case that they could be useful, if watched. Grandma, ever eager for openness, agreed. If they didn’t question, they were no better than the Allahs.
