Chapter 26

REFLEX -- "An action performed as a response to a stimulus and without conscious thought."

"Gentlemen, thank you for attending me. Michael wished to be here but as you might imagine, my daughter Dee'rah is in no mood at this time to allow him out of her sight or to indulge his further involvement in deadly games, as she terms it. We must give her time to reconcile her feelings," Jon'a-ren explained.

"I must say that my own wife is of a similar mood. We all know how close we came to losing Michael. The fact that he's now healed and as near to normal as could be hoped, matters little. All they see is how nearly they lost him."

The small group attending Jon'a-ren nodded and mumbled their agreement. Death and injury was no stranger to any of them. They had all lost comrades and friends, and most had suffered injuries in life-threatening situations. They all realized that their duties had a more severe impact on their loved ones, their families, than on themselves.

"I'm asking that the three of you undertake a mission to Canada. You may be there for some time. You will act as a coordinating group between Marie Wapato and her grandparents of the Nez Percé people, and your organization, Pietor. We ask also that you coordinate your activities with the Canadian authorities to avoid misunderstandings. Pietor, I'm asking that you continue to assist Andrei with as many more of the Nikogda Snova operatives as he deems essential for the effort," Ambassador Jon'a-ren requested.

"Mr. Zaglinder, I've not had the opportunity to welcome you properly. Allow me to correct that oversight now. When Michael explained your situation to me, I was most relieved to learn that we had not, in truth, committed a grievous injury against your person in the exercise of a rather... extraordinary display of personal initiative by a few of our more capable associates. Jon'a-ren pointedly paused and glanced directly at Andrei. Permit me to apologize for our rather overzealous conduct, although given the circumstances I would be remiss if I too harshly criticized those involved. I do understand and respect the extreme exigencies of the situation, and coming from a world without such complications, I'm not entirely qualified to judge such things. I understand that you are, in fact, quite pleased with the ... outcome?"

"Indeed, Mr. Ambassador, more than pleased. I and my family are very thankful to be here. I've already forgiven those involved who extracted me, and I am relieved beyond words to have my daughter and her family safe and comfortably situated as your guests. Please, sir, accept my gratitude, and my most profound regret that your son-in-law was seriously injured on our behalf," Bob Zaglinder offered.

"Well, sir, I'm afraid that I'm going to impose on your gratitude for a while. We believe it is essential that you accompany our task group to Canada. We're certain that you can be of invaluable assistance in gathering witness statements and the documentation needed to deal with that grotesque situation in your country. Is this something you will be comfortable doing?"

"Absolutely! No question about it, Ambassador Jon'a-ren. I feel not only comfortable, but vindicated! It will be a pleasure to pull those bastards down, Sir!"

Jon'a-ren smiled as he replied, "Yes, I am beginning to agree with you, Mr. Zaglinder. My wife and daughter would probably go with you and might even consider committing violence themselves, if they could get their hands on that man who calls himself the leader of your nation. They have not taken this injury to Michael well. No, not well, at all.

"Which brings me to another item of concern. I understand that young Abrams and our Michael used some unusual hand weapons of a non-lethal nature during their encounter with the American agents. I also understand that without those devices, they would probably be dead, or prisoners of the American government. But we have no such devices in our inventory, at least not to my knowledge. Are any of you familiar with these stunners?"

Pietor glanced at Andrei, who looked up to the ceiling and back down with sudden interest at a new hangnail on his left index finger. Pietor waited for a long moment, cleared his throat, and spoke something in Russian to Andrei.

The old man's head snapped up, and he blushed furiously -- an odd sight for such an old, rugged face -- and he nodded briskly in obedience to Pietor's obvious command.

"Da! Yes, Mr. Ambassador," Andrei stammered. "I was concerned, sir, that there seemed no defense against... certain encounters ... should they occur. I and a ... good friend, a very good friend from your world ... we, uh, we consulted together, sir. We arranged for a bit of research in a ... ummm... remote laboratory ... and we came up with a prototype, sir. After that, it was easy to have a few made. We didn't wish to intrude on your busy schedule, sir ... seeing as how you've got the world to deal with ... so Michael agreed, and..."

Jon'a-ren fought down the temptation to laugh aloud. He gazed at the old Russian, watching him squirm uncomfortably for a few moments longer.

"I see," Jon'a-ren finally spoke. "Pietor, were you apprised of this ad-hoc weapons development program? Officially, I mean?"

"Oh," Pietor said, softly, "not officially, if you mean was this a Nikogda Snova undertaking. I gave no official imprimatur of approval. But I believe we're both quite aware of the spirit of initiative exercised by our more competent associates. I'm quite certain this new device was a product of such an initiative."

"Yes, I understand," Jon'a-ren replied. "I'm also thinking that I'm well acquainted with this very good friend to whom Mr. Gulichov alludes. It is most likely the same talented shuttle pilot to whom we owe the life of our son-in-law, along with some courageous and talented family members of yours, Mr. Zaglinder. We've not had the opportunity to thank your daughter appropriately, sir, but we will, we most certainly will.

"Well, Mr. Gulichov, I am not displeased with your initiative, or with Berl'ahan, or with my son-in-law. But, gentlemen, I am displeased that no one saw fit to trust that we'd give our approval to such a research venture. I was even tempted to suggest to the Captain of the Galaxy Explorer that he might wish to monitor the research activities of his scientists and technical staff a bit more closely. On further reflection, I have decided not to do that.

"What I DO most strongly suggest, to those of you who share some involvement in this affair, is that you please do me the honor of consulting with me before engaging in further research? I can trust your word on this?"

The group most sincerely mumbled and stammered their assent, embarrassed without admitting direct involvement. Jon'a-ren nodded, a wry smile on his face. After another moment, he turned serious again.

"That brings up the second mystery, good friends. How was it possible that the American agency and their people knew the time and location to ambush our shuttle? I understood that we had secure communications in place?"

Bob Zaglinder scowled and spoke up:

"That's an easy one, unfortunately. Andrei and his contact used an internet video-chat service to confirm the arrangements. It was assumed to be a secure application, with proprietary encryption that the developers have refused to divulge. Supposedly, no one knows the encryption protocol other than the company who now owns the rights to it. I say supposedly, for I suspect that the corporation that now owns the encryption protocol was persuaded by a government agency demand to open a back door into the program. Now it's a simple matter for them to intercept and decrypt anything they think important enough to bother with.

"I'm sorry, Andrei, that you had no way to know. When you mentioned my name, 'Zaglinder, ' that was undoubtedly a flagged keyword which triggered your conversation to fall out of the decrypted stream and straight into their in-basket. I'd guess that within a few hours of their intercept, printed transcripts and DVD copies of the video exchange were on some intelligence director's desk. After that, they tasked the FBI to do the dirty work."

He shrugged his shoulders. "If I had known ... but then, you hadn't recruited me, yet," he smiled at Andrei. "Which reminds me, I have a fair acquaintance with certain other communications links which are assumed to be safe, but in fact are not. I'll make a list of those. And speaking of that, I would strongly suggest that if you have your own more advanced security protocols for communications, that you immediately equip your various outposts with them.

Obscenely intrusive bastards, those people! Andrei cursed to himself. I suppose it comes from having unlimited money and boundless paranoia at their disposal. Then he said aloud, "Ambassador Jon'a-ren, I apologize, sir. I had no idea. We trusted..."

"No matter, Andrei. It is not your fault. Who knew? I think this may be a good learning experience. We cannot trust what we cannot verify. I understand that the Americans steadfastly deny spying on everyone's messages. We can now say that such trust is misplaced. We will act accordingly. As for the suggestion, yes, we do have our own technology. I'll forward our request to the Captain of our support vessel, that his researchers apply themselves to the matter of more secure communications for field use. Perhaps it will prove to be as effective as those stun devices."

Three visitors sat at a small conference table with Canadian Prime Minister Scott Keaton and two of his Cabinet members: the Minister of Justice and Attorney General, James Abbot; and the Minister of Aboriginal Affairs, Jacqueline Duquesne. Pietor was first to speak, after they had shaken hands all around and taken their seats.

"First, allow me to present this official Ambassadorial Letter of Credentials introducing the three of us, Minister Keaton. You'll recognize, of course, that it is from your good friend, Ambassador Jon'a-ren of M'shai'dur, the home world of the Masi'shen. He also sends his sincere regrets that he is at present unable to leave Geneva while he attends to his daughter and wife, who remain quite distraught over the near-death of Michael Hawthorne. I suspect that you may have heard of the unfortunate incident that led to his injuries?

"I am Pietor Grovischenk. The letter will introduce me as a trusted friend of Ambassador Jon'a-ren and Michael Hawthorne, and an ally of the Masi'shen mission on Earth. I also command and direct my home organization, Nikogda Snova, which has committed its resources to certain defensive causes on behalf of the Masi'shen Embassy, causes which I have reason to believe are closely allied with your own government's interests.

"The rather large, older gentleman to my right is Andrei Gulichov. He is my Chief of Intelligence and a man of significant courage and experience in, how should I say, the clandestine arts through which information may be obtained and communications facilitated. I assure you that he is a gentleman of impeccable integrity and personal honor. He is totally trustworthy.