The Gods We Make Page 5

Major Long lowered his chin. “I simply perform my duties to the best of my ability.”

  The colonel turned to inspect the nose of the craft. “I assured General Xu you will hand this program over to your deputy after this flight so you might focus entirely on the asteroid belt missions.” Gruff sounds came from Colonel Long Jianyu’s throat, his version of a laugh. “I am confident you can manage both tasks, but the General insists on your undivided attention now that construction of the first mining ship nears completion.”

  Major Long lowered his eyes. “Yes, Uncle.”

  “I understand how important it is for you to see tasks to their conclusion. That tenacity was key in your selection for the space program,” the colonel said. “Though it surprised many when you requested this additional assignment running the fighter test program between space flights. That is most unorthodox.” The colonel inspected one of the fighter’s sensor arrays. “Your prior successes changed the necessary minds.”

  “I’m sure President Li helped as well,” the Major said.

  “In this case,” the colonel said, “your own qualifications were paramount. The asteroid missions promise access to abundant minerals. If successful, the need for conflict with the West over territory in the Pacific will diminish. You were selected because the party leadership is confident that you will succeed.”

  Major Long nodded acknowledgment.

  Both men heard a synthetic voice over an earpiece. “Weather update, all factors within mission parameters. Winds at middle altitudes are eighty percent of threshold, projected to decrease.”

  “The weather continues to improve. The test flight can proceed. I’ll arrange to hand over the J-28 project once this test concludes,” the Major said, sharp eyes surveying the craft as he spoke.

  “That will not happen today.”

  “Uncle?”

  “The president of the United States asked for a meeting with President Li. He’s en route from the Philippines as we speak. You and I are invited to attend that meeting.”

  “The American president? Why is he coming here?”

  “There’s a project so secret that not even you know of it.” The colonel’s lips formed a thin, haggard grin. “The Americans may have discovered it. We can’t think of another reason for President Billmore’s unexpected visit. I’m now permitted to share some of the details with you.” The colonel stood straight and arched his shoulders back. “Wei, our scientists succeeded in creating a large-scale fusion reactor.”

  “Fusion!” Major Long showed a toothy grin. “Fusion? We have mastered fusion?”

  “Yes, nephew.” The colonel nodded. “China has mastered fusion.”

  “I understand why this is a threatening development for the Americans,” Major Long said. “However, President Billmore must know that by coming to President Li, especially on such short notice, he shows weakness.”

  “Hmpf, I have been studying American politicians my entire professional life. I have yet to understand them.”

  #

  President Billmore reclined his brown leather executive chair in his office aboard Air Force One and stared at the South China Sea thirty thousand feet below. The sun sparkled off waves far below, reflecting its brilliant light as if from countless gemstones sprinkled across the ocean. The air was so clear he could make out Taiwan, that perpetual thorn in China’s side, fifty miles ahead.

  The holographic face of an attractive, middle-aged woman materialized over his desk. “Good morning, Mr. President. Senator Dees wishes to speak with you.”

  “If you weren’t an AI, Addie, I would think you looked concerned.” He pressed a button on the chair’s arm. It rolled to the desk and locked in place.

  “Thank you for noticing,” she said. “I’ve been studying facial responses to emotional situations. Due to my role as your assistant, my learning feedback rate is set rather low, so I don’t manifest change too quickly.”

  “They didn’t want you getting too emotional on me?”

  “Something like that.” Her voice was even. “Senator Dees is still waiting.”

  The president nodded. “Would it be a bad idea to have Air Force One set down on some tropical island for a few days of R&R instead of going to Beijing?”

  “You are the president of the United States of America,” she answered. “You can do whatever you like.”

  “If only that second part were true.” The president reached his arms out to the side, stretched them back, and moved them in small circles as if preparing for an athletic competition. “Put Harley through.”

  The image of Senator Harley Dees replaced Addie’s.

  “Morning, Tom,” the Senator said.

  “Morning.”

  “What’s this I hear about a trip to China?”

  “I thought it would be a good idea to sit down with President Li face-to-face and discuss their fusion breakthrough.”

  “We have diplomatic channels for a reason. We should start talks there and get a feeling for their initial position. If you want, call Li up in a week or two.”

  “I would agree if this were a trade or hacking dispute. Harley, free unlimited energy isn’t just any issue. It’s the issue, the one thing that will define our time.”

  “I get it. Believe me, I do. But running up to Beijing will be seen as a sign of weakness in China and back home. Dammit Tom, we have elections coming up. Some of us in the Senate are hanging on by a thread. How much will you help the country if the party loses control of the Senate?”

  President Billmore pinched his chin. “Politics as usual doesn’t get us where we need to be. It didn’t stop the Saudis and Iranians from damn near tearing each other apart. It didn’t stop North Korea from nuking Seoul. Hell, the North’s old Finance Minister’s such an expert politician that he effectively controls the peninsula as a civilian now. I’m half-way convinced he’s behind that whole tragedy.”

  “Tom-” Senator Dees said.

  The president continued with growing passion. “The average voter isn’t smart enough to know what’s in their own best interest. Or at least, not smart enough to recognize when some power-hungry bastard plays off their insecurities to get their vote. Remember what politics was like a few decades ago? It was all about pandering and deception. We’re sliding back in that direction. We have a genuine opportunity to do things differently, to make real and lasting change.” He took a breath. “I have to do what’s right, not what’s expedient.”

  Senator Dees was quiet for a moment. “And you believe showing up on President Li’s doorstep is what’s right?”

  “If the negotiation for fusion technology is handed to the diplomats it’ll bog down for ages. It has to start at the top. The best way to do that is in person. It’s awkward, it’ll upset some folks, but it’s right.”

  Senator Dees shook his head. “Seeing as you’re dead set on this, I best get started on damage control. I sure as hell hope you’re right.”

  The president nodded and hung up. “So do I,” he said to the empty office. “So do I.”

  #

  “Air Force One, this is Beijing Approach. Wind two one zero at one zero knots. You are cleared to land, Runway One Eight Left.” The Chinese instruction was translated to English in real-time by onboard AI.

  “Beijing Approach, Air Force One. Cleared to land, Runway One Eight Left,” the president’s pilot responded. Air Force One descended through the stunningly clear skies of China’s capital. “They sure did clean up their act,” the pilot noted to his co-pilot. “Even a decade ago, the sky was hazy with pollution this time of year. Even thirty thousand feet up, the cabin air started to smell like wood smoke and burnt plastic.”

  “Sure, I visited in thirty-three,” the co-pilot said. “It was pretty bad. Though my hosts insisted it used to be much worse. How did they clean it up?”

  “They invested heavily in alternative energy,” the pilot said. “They get maybe fifteen percent from solar and wind. Most of the rest comes from nuclear power. I have no idea what they’re
doing with all that radioactive waste, but at least you can breathe the air now.” He set the autopilot for automatic landing then spoke over the intercom. “Mr. President, touchdown in three minutes.” The plane set down with a slight thud on the airport’s central runway.

  A substantial delegation awaited Air Force One on the tarmac. A lean man, perhaps forty years of age, spoke first. “Mr. President, it is an honor.” The man bowed. “I am Lu Zhen, aide to President Li. The president extends his regrets that he was unable to meet you in person. Due to the unexpected nature of your visit, he could not clear his schedule. However, he should be ready to meet by the time we reach his office.”

  The Americans were taken by motorcade southwest along the S12 into the heart of Beijing.

  President Billmore studied the passing landscape. They drove by ultra-modern skyscrapers then past a building only a few decades old that was being demolished to make way for a bigger and better structure. Of course he ‘could not clear his schedule’. He’s pulling out all the power-plays. Screw him. He could make time. They turned west, and the towering structures gave way to two- and three-story buildings of a bygone era. There was an expansive, open plaza on the left. “Mr. Zhen.” The president pointed out of the vehicle. “Isn’t that Tiananmen Square?” You know, that Tiananmen Square. The peasant staring down the tank. He sighed imperceptibly. Am I a peasant, staring down a tank?

  Lu Zhen’s eyes hardened. “Yes. Tiananmen Square is a place steeped in history. It was built in sixteen fifty-one on the site of Tiananmen Gate, which itself was built in fourteen fifteen during the Ming Dynasty. Heavy fighting…” he expounded on the ancient history of the place, ignoring the massacre fifty-five years prior that the Chinese still preferred to suppress. Soon, the gates of Zhongnanhai, the imperial garden in the Imperial City at the heart of Beijing, came into view. Once an expansive abode for the Emperor of China, complete with three lakes as well as numerous palaces and homes, Zhongnanhai now served as headquarters for China’s central government. “We have arrived,” Lu Zhen said.

  President Billmore and his entourage were escorted into the Ziguangge building, a two-story, reddish-brown wooden structure with a traditional green roof that curved upwards at the ends.

  “Mr. President, would you please be seated? President Li will be with you shortly.” The man gestured to a plush orange chair with an intricately carved cherrywood frame.

  President Li would occupy an identical chair to the president’s left, with an ornate wooden table between them upon which a flawless floral display rested. A massive, hardwood floor screen stood behind the table. It was decorated with a yellow-and-orange relief depicting the landscape surrounding the capital.

  The president crossed his arms. “I’ll stand, thank you, Mr. Lu.”

  The sunlight crept across the rich carpet, eventually lighting a Ming vase perched on a wooden stand. President Li, flanked by advisers and a disquieting number of military officers, strode through an interior door. “President Billmore! Welcome to China.” The two men shook hands. An assistant stood uncomfortably close, creating a holo-recording of the meeting. “Please accept my apologies for making you wait. Your visit was… unexpected, but I’m glad you are here.” He gestured at one of the ornate cherrywood chairs. “Would you sit with me?” The two sat and exchanged pleasantries for a time.

  “President Li.” The president turned in his chair to better face his counterpart. “Let me come to the point of my visit.” He knew precisely what to say but hesitated as if gathering his thoughts. “The people of China have achieved a momentous breakthrough. One that has the potential to forever redefine life on our planet.” Show some expression, Li. I can’t read your face. “I speak, of course, of your recent achievement in fusion power.”

  “Ah.” The Chinese president nodded, and his eyes narrowed, suggesting he might have words with his security chief. “Your intelligence services are to be congratulated. We hoped for more time to absorb the meaning of our discovery before informing the world. After all, many will want to share in the technology. Surely, the United States cannot be far behind.”

  If only that were true. The president instinctively flashed his politician’s smile. “We’ve had our own successes. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time. But the implications are so massive, it’s… shameful… to waste time making the technology widely available. Cheap power can solve the hunger problem, provide clean water to parts of the world that need it the most. It can end a whole mess of suffering.” The president fixed his gaze on President Li. “Members of my own party are already calling for my head over this unplanned detour. When you’re the president of the United States, you can’t just drop by for a talk. Everyone on the Hill is ascribing all sorts of meaning to my visit. I’m here, asking you in person to share this technology with the world because I believe it is that important.”

  President Li nodded almost imperceptibly. He pulled a well-used leather case from his jacket and extended it to President Billmore. “Cigar?”

  “I understand you have a wonderful taste in tobacco, but I must decline. I don’t smoke.”

  “Do you mind if I do?” President Li was already cutting the tip. “I know, I know. It’s unhealthy. A small vice I allow myself.” He methodically lit the cigar. When he spoke again, his voice was soft yet unwavering. “I appreciate that you made the trip to China. Understand, even though our scientists were confident of our progress, the government was rather surprised by the rapid success of the fusion program. We have considered the benefits yet worry the sudden introduction of fusion power globally could cause political instability.”

  “How could less suffering result in instability?” President Billmore asked. “If you elevate people, they are less likely to follow extremist leaders.”

  President Li furrowed his brow and thought for a moment. “Four decades ago, the United States intervened in the Middle East with the best of intentions. You wanted to rid the Iraqi people of a ruthless dictator and introduce political reform. That action led to civil war and the rise of ISIS. It saw the destruction of ancient cultural treasures and brought the region to the brink of nuclear war.” President Li sighed, his breath carrying cigar smoke toward the president.

  President Billmore suppressed a cough. “That was a long time ago.”

  “Perhaps to a younger nation. China takes a long-term view of such matters.” President Li put down his cigar. “We are determined to take a measured approach to this new technology so we can better understand the consequences.” He paused for a moment. “Perhaps, in the interest of cooperation, we can find some ways to begin sharing the benefits. Our engineers assure me that it would be feasible to build superconducting transmission lines to some of our neighbors.”

  Several assistants arrived with tea. President Li extended his arm toward the table, where it was promptly served.

  “Of course,” President Li said, “it is not realistic to build a superconducting line as far as the United States.” He took up his cigar again. “Perhaps you are aware of the Space-based Solar Power Initiative we are conducting with India. It provides a modest portion of our energy needs. Our engineers are certain we can modify that program to beam power, quite a bit of power, up from China to a sister satellite over your West Coast. Understand, this would be an initial step, a token of good will, while we further evaluate the matter of fusion.”

  “I see,” the president said, his tea growing cold. “That is a generous offer.” It’s OPEC all over again. “I’ll discuss it with our scientists and see what they think.” President Billmore stood.

  President Li stood as well. “I would be honored if you would stay for the day and allow me to show you Beijing.”

  “I would love to, but I’m late getting back to Washington, and now I’ll need to put out some fires over this side trip to boot.”

  “I understand. I wish you a safe journey home.”

  #

  Sara gazed distantly out a virtual window VIRCOM created at her behest, admiri
ng a holographic view of the Serengeti. Her eyes focused on a giraffe approaching an acacia tree with a slow, elegant gait. Its neck stretched upward, and a long purple tongue darted out, wrapping around a few small branches. It almost feels like I’m there. It almost feels… tranquil. What a peaceful life that must be, roaming the grasslands, raising a family. There is the occasional lion to worry about, I suppose. A cheerful smile and happy eyes lent her face a radiant glow, her demeanor brightening the otherwise somber mood in the room. It was exciting to spend that hour at the river with Jake. It would be thrilling to explore the Serengeti, or some other exotic place, with him. The giraffe pulled down another bunch of leaves. Stop it. Why is my mind going there? Focus!

  “Sara?” Ted Harris repeated. “What do you think?”

  “Oh, sorry Ted.” She flashed an apologetic smile.

  The wrinkles in his forehead and around his gray eyes conveyed minor annoyance but also a hint of concern.

  Sara tried to pick up the threads of the conversation. “That’s right, our operatives and digital penetration teams have both been unable to obtain any significant details about China’s fusion reactor. They put a firewall around the whole project. It’s the most paranoid we have seen them with anything.”

  National Security Adviser Nancy Kido stood and crossed her arms across her chest. She said, “The Ministry of Science and Technology of the People’s Republic of China has the ability to create commercial scale fusion reactors. The first is scheduled come online in six months, filling ten percent of Beijing’s power requirements. We didn’t even figure that out until they boasted about it to the world.” She glanced at Sara. “Three weeks. You’ve been working this for three weeks. China is on the verge of unlimited free energy, and you’re telling me we’re completely in the dark about how their technology works.”

  In the dark. Was that pun intentional? Sara shifted in her chair. The United States would soon be in the dark, in an economic shadow cast by the rival superpower.

  Sara studied Ms. Kido’s smooth, thin face, lined with straight, jet black hair. Not much emotion in that face. Come on. Show me something. Some hint how I can figure you out. Nothing. In contrast to the meaning carried by her words, Ms. Kido’s expression showed no sign of emotion, no anger, frustration, fear. She was analytical, all business. That lady’s downright hard to read.