Howard started to speak, but Kent cut him off. “I expect you are about to say that it isn’t that way at your church. I believe you. But at my age, my connection to God is personal. I believe He hears my prayers just as well on the battlefield as he does in church, and I’m too old to put up with the other bullshit.”
Now it was Howard who paused and sipped at his beer, an uncomfortable look on his face. “Abe,” he said after a moment, “I appreciate you telling me that. I have the feeling it wasn’t easy for you, and that it’s a story few have heard.”
Kent nodded.
Howard tipped his glass at his friend in a small salute. “Which makes it my turn, I guess. I’m only ever going to say this to you once. What you do with it is up to you. The thing is, Abe, I’m very comfortable in my own faith, and I’m comfortable sharing that faith, but I’m not comfortable
Abe smiled and nodded but didn’t say anything.
“You say that you believe, my friend, and it makes me happy to hear that. But belief alone is not enough.”
Kent frowned at that. “But the Bible says—”
“I know,” Howard said. “John 3:16, ‘… whosoever believeth in him shall have eternal life.’ ” He grinned. “I’ve always been partial to King James.”
Kent didn’t smile in return. “It also says that ‘not through acts shall a man enter the kingdom of heaven, but through faith alone,’ or words to that effect.”
Howard nodded again. “Yes, but the question is, what do those words, ‘believe’ and ‘faith,’ mean? You see, if that’s all it is, a belief alone, then it’s sort of a get-out-of-jail-free card, isn’t it? And that’s the way, I’m sorry to say, that a lot of Christians view it: ‘I believe in Jesus, I’m going to Heaven, so it doesn’t matter what I do here on earth,’ and that’s both true and false. You’re right that our acts here don’t earn us any points with God. On the other hand, if we do truly believe in him, if we truly believe in his Son and his Word, then we are compelled to do certain things, to live our life a certain way. We are compelled to acts of mercy and kindness. We are compelled to charity and to a Christian love for our fellow man, to ‘love one another as ourselves.’ And we are compelled to join others in worship, for as the Bible also says, ‘Whenever two or more gather in my name, I am with them.’ ”
Howard paused for a sip, draining his beer. “I won’t preach at you, my friend, and I won’t pressure you to come to church. But I will ask you to think about it. And while you’re thinking about it, you can still eat lunch with us, can’t you?”
Abe smiled and drained his own glass. “Oh, yeah, John. No problem there. As long as Nadine doesn’t sneak some widow in on me.”
The two smiled.
12
Chang was not impressed. Certainly not with the security at the facility, at any rate. Yes, there had been armed guards at a gate, who had come out and inspected Chang’s chauffeured car, looking into the trunk and opening the hood, with a dog sniffing about the tires, presumably one trained to detect bombs.
The guards had directed Chang’s driver to a lot several hundred meters away from the building, one surrounded by a tall chain-link fence topped with razor wire.
A small electric cart was waiting to take Chang to the building. The driver looked at Chang’s ID, and matched it to a handheld flatscreen before starting off.
At the entrance, more armed guards checked Chang’s identification again, and inspected his briefcase. They asked him if he had any kind of computer recording media with him. He did not. He knew that there were computers in this complex that were not connected to any network, inside or out, and that the only way material from those could be transferred was manually. He expected his case would be searched more thoroughly when he departed.
Still, the look into his case seemed cursory, and the guards did not pat him down.
He was issued an identity badge with his picture and a retinal scan pattern upon it. He guessed that if he went anywhere he was not supposed to go, an alarm keyed to his badge would trip.
An armed guard took him to an inner waiting area, where a receptionist placed a call. A few minutes later, a man arrived.
“Mr. Chang? I am Commander Thorn’s assistant, Dylan Lacey. Please come with me.”
Chang followed the man, looking around carefully as they walked. Yes, he saw carefully placed sensors mounted on the ceiling. No doubt there was some kind of reader there scanning his ID badge.
Still, they had not body-searched him, so he could have smuggled a weapon into the place. Even if there had been a hidden metal detector to ferret out guns, he might have a fiberglass or ceramic knife or pistol. Chang knew there were handguns that contained no more metal than a couple of teeth fillings, and even the cartridges were ceramic and plastic.
As if reading his mind, the assistant said, “Commander Thorn asked me to fill you in on our security systems. Aside from the guards and metal detector built into the door frame, we have IR card scanners in every and all rooms. Our house computer keeps track of everybody’s badge. If you remove the ID card and try to move around without it, a silent alarm goes off, and you will find yourself facing some edgy armed guards.”
Chang nodded.
“In addition to those, we have also installed the new Bertram Hard Object Scanners at various places — I’m not at liberty to say where.”
Chang frowned. “I had thought those were not yet in production.”
“You are correct. They are not yet commercially available. But we have a relationship with the maker — Commander Thorn is a major stockholder in Bertram Systems.”
“Ah.”>
That put a different spin on security. The HO scanners used harmless ultrasonic pulses to scan subjects, and worked on density. Anything hard enough to take an edge, or that would withstand the pressure generated by a bullet being fired, would show up, and that would include ceramic guns and plastic knives.
But it wouldn’t stop a chemical or biological attack—
“And we have also recently installed sniffers set to detect chemicals used in explosives, plus one of the new Morton bioscanners that can pick up certain substances, like, say, anthrax, down to a few parts per billion.”
Chang smiled. Ah. Better and better. Would that his government had such devices. At the offices and plant that he ran? They had some old men waving people in and out at the doors, and one old metal detector in the most sensitive areas.
Of course, terrorists had not targeted his industry in China, and anybody who wanted to steal the latest technology wouldn’t be looking for it there, either. You could pick up more advanced hard- and software in an Apple store than you could at most military computer centers in China…
“Here we are, sir. Commander Thorn is expecting you.”
“Thank you,” Chang said.
Thorn was a tall, well-made fellow, dressed in a business suit that was equally well-made. He stood, came around his desk, and extended his hand for a shake. “Mr. Chang. Welcome to Net Force.”
Chang recognized the Native American aspect of him — his coloring and cheekbones, mostly.
“It is my honor to be here, Commander Thorn.”
Chang bowed slightly, and they shook hands.
“Please, call me Tom. We aren’t big on formality here.”
“Thank you. Then you must call me Han.”
“Dylan filled you in on basic security?”
“Indeed. Most impressive.”
Thorn shrugged. “Would that it was not necessary. We live in interesting times.”
