Persecution: God's Other Children. Book 2

by Rob Mclean

  The only ‘angel’ she saw was the Captain when she played the ‘good cop’ and magnanimously allowed Ling to re-join the regular prison population. Like a beaten dog, she had loved and obeyed her master ever since, but her time in isolation still gave her nightmares.

  Ling sneered at the fools. “You were delusional. Wishful thinking, that’s all. There is no God, especially not here.”

  “You have closed your heart to Him, but He is always ready to hear your prayers.” With her devoted friends hanging about her, Michelle looked like some charismatic guru. Ling suddenly doubted that the Captain would ever rehabilitate this one.

  “There is always hope,” Michelle continued oblivious to Ling’s disdainful expression. “Why else would he have sent you to us?”

  Ling was about to point out the obvious flaws in Michelle’s logic, but the Captain’s voice stopped her. Her body froze when she heard that voice. Had she failed her somehow? Ling’s heart raced as she turned to face her master.

  High above on the observation deck, Ling saw the Captain speaking into a microphone as she called everyone’s attention. Even from this distance, she could tell that she was excited about the announcement she was to make. Ling relaxed a little. It didn’t look like the Captain was about to single her out, at least not at the moment.

  “Esteemed guests,” Captain Lau had a song in her voice, “it is with great pleasure that you are all invited to assemble in the great hall.”

  Ling could tell from the facetious tone, that the Captain was pleased about something. And that, she knew, put a fear into the prisoners. Neither the announcement, nor the assembly were scheduled. This disruption to the normal routine brought an eruption of hushed, but urgent whisperings amongst the prisoners. Their collective voices grew louder as everyone strived to be heard above the growing noise.

  The rising babble was cut short as the Captain barked into the microphone, “Five minutes.” She turned on her heel and left the observation platform with a pair of guards following behind.

  As Ling made her way to the great hall, two women fell in step with her. Ajii, an ugly bear of a woman with thinning hair and a wispy moustache announced her presence with a grunt and a nod. On Ling’s other side, Kiane, an athletic flat-chested woman with a shaved and scarred head. She bared her teeth in an approximation of a smile.

  “Who’s that little bitch you been talking with?” Her face twitched with a restless energy. She pushed a slower moving woman aside as she pranced about Ling.

  “Her name is Michelle. She’s the American girl…”

  “She’s the one from the dark?”

  Ling gave her a nod.

  “She must be tougher than she looks,” Kiane frowned. “Who’d have thought?”

  They had entered the great hall and Ling looked about to see where Michelle and her friends had gone. The Captain would expect her to be by Michelle’s side.

  “She’s interested in her, so I have to make friends with her.” Ling didn’t try to hide her disapproval.

  “Ha, lucky girl,” Kiane grinned, showing broken teeth. Even Ajii managed a bemused grin.

  “You want us to make her be friends?” Kiane nodded hopefully. She was ever eager to inflict pain to prove her devotion to Ling.

  Ling feigned a hurt look. “You think she wouldn’t want to be my friend without your persuasion?”

  “No, I…” Kiane stammered.

  “Save your energy for later, Snake,” Ling said as she ran her finger down Kiane’s neck. Her minion responded by coiling her fingers around Ling’s hand and rubbing her head against it.

  Ling smiled. She enjoyed having such a devoted lackey. It didn’t matter to her that Kiane sought from her the same things she sought from the Captain. It made her feel important as well as increasing her power and standing amongst the inmates. She withdrew her entwined fingers.

  “Now go away, both of you,” Ling said. “I have to find my new friends and you’ll only scare them away.”

  “Come on Bear.” Kiane tugged at the huge woman. “We won’t be far.”

  Ling watched them move a few metres away and try to blend into the crowd. Ajii’s bulk and poxy face made that difficult. She found Michelle and the rest of her new friends huddled together near a pillar, towards the front of the auditorium.

  “I wonder what our glorious Captain has to say to us today?” Ling said as she slid herself between Michelle and Horseface.

  “Nothing good, I’m sure,” Horseface said, inching away form Ling.

  “Maybe she’s increasing our rations,” Moonface said hopefully. Ling smiled at the girl’s naïve optimism and shook her head.

  A hush fell across the great hall as Captain Lau appeared on the raised stage. She strode purposefully to the middle of the stage, swinging a microphone in her hand. With a nod to the back of the hall, the big screen behind her came to life. An image of the alien spaceship appeared and Ling immediately recognised Beijing’s skyline beneath. Construction cranes dominated the landscape, but the unique CCTV building, with its cantilevered towers meeting in a rhomboid embrace, were easily discernible at this angle. The Golden Archway building, a proud statement of the nation’s abilities, reaffirmed the location. They were all dwarfed by the slender concave towering China Zun building. Shaped like an ancient Chinese wine vessel, it stood above all its neighbours and confirmed that it really was Beijing that the alien spaceship now loomed over.

  “Comrades,” the Captain’s face broke into a broad smile. Ling tried to remember the last time she had actually seen such a public show of happiness. “It is my great pleasure to share with you this wondrous news that I have only just learned of.” Her free arm motioned at the screen.

  “I am proud to announce that our alien visitors have accepted the invitation extended by our glorious nation and a few hours ago, have reappeared in the skies above Beijing.”

  Ling was surprised at the announcement. She, like many others, had expected some dire form of retribution from the aliens and had hoped that it would have been limited to just the fanatical Iranians. She fully expected the aliens to have judged humanity as a whole to be a hostile race. If they didn’t simply eradicate all humanity as a dangerous menace, then the best mankind could hope for would be to be quarantined from the rest of the galaxy. Either way, she never thought peaceful contact would ever be re-established.

  She dragged her eyes from the screen to see how her new friends were taking the news. The expressions on the faces around her showed a mixture of astonishment and fear. Moonface’s mouth hung open and Horseface’s face appeared even longer.

  “Not good,” Broken glasses squinted at the screen and whispered to Michelle. The American girl hushed her with a frown and a shake of her head, but her eyes didn’t leave the screen.

  The Captain continued, her voice beaming with nationalistic pride. “It is because of the enlightened policies of our nation, especially our religious views that this advanced civilisation has chosen to align themselves with us and adopt this great nation as their new port.”

  Her eyes scoured the room until she found Michelle. Ling saw the American girl briefly meet her gaze before lowering her eyes. What the Captain couldn’t see, Ling noticed, was her fists clenched into balls by her side.

  Chapter 12

  The rear-Admiral had been woken from a fitful sleep to the news of a waking nightmare. The alien spaceship had reappeared and it was now safely in Chinese airspace.

  Having fled moments before the Iranian nuclear attack, it had disappeared from all human detection. The envoy had uttered a few perfunctory words about how regrettable the incident had been before he was ushered to his lander vessel. It had lifted off and with it, the Admiral had thought, humanity’s chances had similarly vanished.

  Dire forecasts had followed along with accusations and threats. Every nation was on a war footing with preparations underway.

  Yesterday, orders had come in, demanding that he report to the Fifth Fleet headquarters in the port of Bahrain. No
thing more was said, but the Rear-Admiral presumed that, once in port, he would be put under arrest to face a court-martial for his decision to aid the Iranians.

  The prospect of losing his career had not helped his sleep, nor had the emptiness of his bed. Lieutenant Grey had avoided him so completely that he had to track her down in the women’s quarters to convince himself that she hadn’t fallen overboard.

  “What do you want, Sir?” she had asked when he had stood at the door to the women’s quarters. He thought he could hear sadness in her voice, but it might have been tiredness. Either way, he couldn’t answer her in front of all the other women officers.

  “I would like to see you when you have some free time, Lieutenant,” he had said, trying to keep it as formal as he could, lest his own feelings embarrass him further.

  A wistful but sad smile crept across her face, but she then turned away and without a word, left him standing there.

  He had waited for days, hoping for a late night visit, but it had been in vain. The lonely nights had passed, filled of dreams alternating between his distant wife, Elma who he couldn’t reach and the gorgeous Lieutenant, who appeared everywhere, but looked right through him as if he wasn’t there.

  Short of giving her a direct order, he could not think of a way to get to talk to her. She had not come to see him privately and now the helicopter from Bahrain base had arrived and was refuelling. Military Police were on their way up to see him.

  On the screens across the command centre, the alien spaceship hung over the Beijing skyline. Crowds of Chinese lined the streets across that nation and in spontaneous expressions of their enthusiasm, waved little red flags and cheered. Parades and fireworks celebrated the return of the alien. These were mirrored around the many parts of the world, in many western cities, including, he noted with disgust, many American cities.

  The news feed also showed many parts of the world in chaos as the masses had poured onto the streets to protest at the alien’s return. All across the Middle East, Africa, South America, India, Pakistan, Indonesia and even in Israel there were protest rallies. Effigies were being burnt in many Arabic cities. The President of Iran made a show of defiantly being seen on the steps of the Motahary theological college in Tehran, along with many angry, but nervous looking members of parliament. Hundreds of thousands of pilgrims circumambulated the Kaaba, performing Umrah in a similar show of mass defiance. This was mirrored in St Peter’s square before the Vatican and the crowds before the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem, but all were dwarfed by the millions of worshippers who flooded the holy Indian rivers; the Ganges at Haridwar, the confluence of the Ganges and the Yamuna and the mythical Saraswati at Allahabad, the Godawari at Nashik, and the Shipra at Ujjain to undergo the Hindu ritual of Kumbh Mela.

  “You’d think they would have gotten the message by now,” the Admiral said to all present on the bridge. It was Captain Jason Weslowski who took his eyes from the screen to answer.

  “The message, Sir? The young Captain had transferred from a Ticonderoga-class guided missile cruiser and was now his choice to relieve the command. It was a long way from his Alabama Southern Baptist roots.

  “That they’re not welcome.” He pointed to the angry masses on the screen.

  Captain Weslowski nodded in agreement. “Couldn’t have made it any much clearer.”

  “But now they’ve come back for more.”

  “Unfortunately a bit out of our range, Sir,” the Captain smiled.

  ‘A good officer,’ the Admiral thought as he nodded. A good Christian warrior, or perhaps just an opportunist? Having aligned himself with the Admiral’s beliefs, his star had been steadily rising. Now he was to be the commander of the fleet, albeit temporarily until they found a replacement.

  “If they were truly benevolent,” the Admiral continued, knowing that everyone on the bridge was listening, “then why would they persist in interfering? Anyone can see the trouble they’re causing.”

  “I’d say it was all part of their plan,” the Captain turned to face the Admiral. “They have come promising peace and goodwill, all the while working to destroy all that is holy.”

  The faces of those listening showed no signs of dissent. The Admiral regarded them all with respect. He was blessed to have such devoted officers serving with him, but ultimately, what could they do against an enemy that could vanish from the face of the planet and re-appear elsewhere in an instant almost at will”? Perhaps they really were emissaries from an alien race or a galactic community as they claimed, in which case, humanity had done just about everything it could to ruin their chances of admission. But if so, why did they demand that humanity renounce religion?

  In every interview, the envoy had always repeated, with unending patience, that religion was a superstitious anachronism that caused division and conflict. That it had no value and was a man-made system to explain the universe before the advent of science and rational thinking. When asked about God, the envoy had simply said that every species at mankind’s level of development had found God to be unreachable, unreliable and unprovable.

  No, the more the Admiral thought about it, the more he was convinced that this envoy was out to destroy mankind’s faith, but to what end? Why were they so against religion? If it were so primitive and out-dated, then why worry about it? They were only concerned about it because it must pose a threat to them. Because, the Admiral reasoned, they mustn’t be aliens, as they claimed. They must be demonic. But there was nothing he or anyone else on the bridge could do about it though, except to pray.

  The Admiral struggled against his own feelings of despair to project an air of confidence. Morale was important now more than ever.

  “I trust that you will be up to that challenge Captain.”

  Captain Jason Weslowski gave him an assured salute and suddenly a new thought entered the Admiral’s mind.

  He pictured the Captain and his Lieutenant Fiona Gray together. Maybe Lieutenant Gray had realigned her sights. She would have known about the orders for his trip to Bahrain base and the likely consequences. Was she that mercenary that she had already moved on now that she had decided that he was no longer useful? Surely not, but the evidence against it wasn’t convincing. He shook his head to dislodge the ungracious image from his head.

  “How’s the wife and family?” the Admiral asked. He hoped they had a strong marriage, at least stronger than his own. He knew there were children, but couldn’t remember how many, but it was a good bet that being a devout almost forty year old Christian, he would have gone forth and multiplied already.

  “Melissa and the children are fine, Sir. A little worried about me being here in the thick of things.”

  “As are all our families,” the Admiral said the words automatically, trying to hide the possibility that neither his wife nor daughter would be overly upset if he were to suddenly disappear.

  “We have discussed the risks and she knows the sacrifice we are all prepared to make for God and country.” His expression hardened.

  “If that damned creature has his way,” the Admiral waved his finger at the screen, “the referendum might put an end to our country.”

  “Sir, there will always be God.”

  “Yes Captain. Amen to that.” The Admiral bowed his head and silently started to pray for strength and guidance.

  “Sir?” Captain Weslowski’s tentative question interrupted his thoughts. “Perhaps we could pray together?”

  The Admiral saw that all on the bridge were in agreement. They looked to him with hope and worry on their faces. All knew their fates were uncertain and all were willing to ask for the Lord’s help.

  The Admiral didn’t have the words they wanted to hear. His own heart was too heavy with worries of his own. With a curt nod, he left it to Captain Weslowski to lead the prayer.

  “Lord,” the Captain intoned solemnly, “we ask for your guidance and protection as always, but today,” he glanced towards the Admiral, “we ask that you keep our leader, Admiral Karl Schwartz in your
light as he faces persecution. Give him strength and…”

  The Captain’s words were interrupted by a knock on the door. Without waiting for permission to enter, two Naval Criminal Investigative Service agents and a Judge Advocate General officer identified themselves. The most senior N.C.I.S officer introduced the J.A.G that had been appointed to him, a tired looking middle aged woman, who didn’t meet his eyes. The N.C.I.S then asked, most politely, for the Admiral to accompany them and to assist them in their investigations. Despite the respectful civilities, the Admiral knew there was no option but to comply with their request.

  With a resigned nod to Captain Weslowski, the Admiral followed them down to their helicopter.

  With the refuelling complete and the pre-flight checks done, the rotors had started up again. He had anticipated a long absence from the ship and had packed his kit accordingly. He handed it to the N.C.I.S. assistant, a pretty young thing, barely out of law school, who stowed his luggage aft.

  The Admiral took one last look about his ship before the door closed. His eyes met those of his crew. He saw hostility, which he presumed was directed against his captors and respect and admiration, which he hoped was for him in the faces that lined the walkways and decks.

  He gave then a salute and was gratified to see it returned. It lifted his spirits to see that his people believed in him and wished him well.

  Just before the door closed, he caught a glimpse of Lieutenant Grey. She stood at attention with her hand to her forehead. With the expression she wore and at this distance, he could almost imagine that she had a tear in her eye.