AmEarth
Chapter 22

Peter was in his Shadow White House bedroom looking at pictures of Scott as a young boy. In the pictures, he and Scott were playing with swords, and he remembered Scott’s love for The Lord of the Rings. He rang Scott’s wafer in a haze of nostalgia.

“Hi. It’s me,” Peter said.

“Hey, Dad. What’s up? Do you want to see Han?” Scott asked, expecting this to be a coded conversation.

“Nope. I’m calling so you can play hooky with me.”

“What? Explain.”

“I’m going to a very special place, and I think it would be great for you to take a week off school and join me. Can you?”

“Dad, these courses are really hard. I don’t know if I can—or should.”

“I understand, but this is seriously a great place to visit. I’ll give you a clue: we can hang out in Middle Earth…”

“That is extremely nerdy of you, Dad. But shit…New Zealand! Wow,” Scott said, the excitement in his voice unmistakable.

“We would take the FF. The flight’s only four hours,” Peter said, sweetening the offer.

“I’ll talk to my teachers. I definitely want to go.”

Scott arrived at the presidential hangar at La Guardia airport, where Air Force FF was parked. It was a small-bodied, elegant, needle-type aircraft. The small wingspan at the rear of the fuselage indicated that it was a plane made to surpass the speed of sound. He was greeted by an aide who took his suitcase and showed him onto the plane. Inside the main cabin, the headroom was barely six feet in height, and Scott instinctively ducked slightly to the left. The seats were grouped two and one, so there was a bit more headroom over the aisle seat in the middle of the fuselage. The experience of traveling in the FF was amazing, akin to flying in a fighter jet. Inside, he saw a single man who had arrived before him; Sergio Ramirez-Bulatov sat facing the cockpit from the last row. He held a frosty glass and sipped on his freshly poured beer from time to time.

“Hi,” Scott shyly said, intimidated by Sergio’s demeanor of power and wealth combined with coolness.

“You must be Scott,” Sergio said.

“Yes. And you are?” Scott asked, although he knew who this man was.

“Sergio.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Bulatov.”

“So you’ve heard of me?”

“My dad told me a bit about you.”

“I’m interested to hear how he described me. What did he tell you?”

“That you would be coming with us and helping him write speeches.”

“That’s all?”

“Yes, but I’ve heard a few other rumors about you,” Scott confessed with a twinkle in his eye. Sergio’s face twitched slightly and Scott could tell that he was getting under his skin.

“What sort of rumors?”

At that moment, Peter walked onto the plane and Scott ignored Sergio’s last question.

“Dad!”

Peter greeted the captain and moved back toward the rear of the plane. Behind him were half a dozen other staff members. Through the window, Sergio saw someone carrying Peter’s bags from the limousine to the rear of the plane. He was on edge, but also excited about the trip back to New Zealand. In his mind, he pictured Robbie just as he had left her, midtwenties and beautiful. He hoped to see her, but he was wildly nervous. He had sent a few emails to her last address, but had received no response. She had never been on social media, at least not with her maiden name. Sergio had attempted to reach her using an alias, and this also proved to be a problem; he couldn’t use his real name, as it might endanger her, so they never managed to reconnect.

Peter sat facing Scott and Sergio in the middle seat. The two seats at his right were quickly filled with staff members. The seat next to Peter was taken by a striking female staffer in her early thirties. The remaining staff filled the other six-seat bay closer to the cockpit. Twelve was a small number for a presidential trip. The Air Force FF2, a matching supersonic plane, was also packed with staff. Twenty-four passengers would arrive in Wellington in only four hours. Other less important staff and press representatives had left the day before.

“I trust that you two have met,” Peter said.

“We have,” Sergio confirmed, somewhat coldly.

The captain appeared in the aisle and addressed Peter.

“Ready for takeoff, sir,” he said.

“We’re all ready to go,” Peter told him.

“We need to move the seats for takeoff, sir.”

“Go ahead.”

The captain stood up straight and announced to the remaining passengers;

“Everyone on seats facing backward, please stand.”

All six passengers facing the rear of the plane stood, and the captain signaled the copilot, who pressed a button that rotated the seats 180 degrees.

“It would be very uncomfortable during our acceleration to face the rear. We will turn them around when we reach optimal altitude,” the captain explained.

“Captain?” Scott said.

“Yes, son?”

“What is optimal altitude?”

“About fifty to fifty-five thousand feet.”

“That high, eh? Wow.”

“Well, there’s almost no turbulence at that height.”

“Good to hear.”

The captain moved up to the cockpit as the plane continued moving toward the takeoff strip. Scott leaned toward Sergio’s large round window and looked up.

“I wonder if we’ll be able to see it,” he said.

“You mean the honeycomb?” Sergio questioned.

“Yes.”

“You won’t be able to—not from fifty thousand feet, at least. The honeycomb is out beyond the stratosphere,” Peter answered, turning around in his seat, as Scott was now behind him.

“If it’s there at all,” Scott mumbled.

Scott’s subversive remark was immediately drowned out by the roar of the engines kicking in, pushing everyone to the backs of their seats. Peter looked at Sergio, his gaze like that of a father asking an uncle for help with his unruly kid, and then immediately moved his head back to use the seat’s headrest as support for his neck. The g-forces that the plane created were extremely strong; he could see that rotating the seats was a good decision.

“Listen kid, I want you to pay full attention to me,” Sergio whispered into Scott’s ear.

“Okay,” Scott nodded and avoided turning his head.

He had heard that tone from his father before, but coming from Sergio, it felt ten times more serious.

“You cannot be critical of AmEarth in public. This is not a commercial flight. Everything here is wired, and presidential staff members hearing your doubts can harm your father,” Sergio warned him.

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” Scott replied.

“I’m in your camp, Scott. I also distrust authority and power. I come from a place where abuse of power is not only constant and expected, but pervasive. I have learned to separate the lies and deception that were crafted to get AmEarth into power from the actual governing of its system. You should, too.”

“I am, kind of, joining the two issues. Someone in the family that also has the right questions.”

“Mexico and Russia. That’s where I’m from, and let me tell you, institutionalized corruption was rampant, but today they both have a unified rule of law and a clean political system. AmEarth has imposed laws and governing bodies that follow the will of the people. Life has improved dramatically for the people there. Dramatically!”

“Even if they are governed from thousands of miles away? By foreigners?”

“AmEarth is huge, yes, but the world is wired and instant. Mexico and Russia are like states of AmEarth, and share laws, have ministers and vote on local and worldwide elections. They still have a local prime minister that holds their local customs and traditions so they don’t feel overwhelmed by being part of AmEarth. It is a new dawn for these places and totally corrupt free. Also we are more integrated and more than ever a single species, so there are no foreigners and no discrimination. Think of the advances in justice with the introduction of powerful computers that help with trials and verdicts. The invention and implementation of the AmEarth anti-perjury software has changed the world. Now that they can detect lying on the witness stand, perjury is a thing of the past.”

Bulatov talked with his hands in small gestures and emotionally engaged Scott.

“My Russian family—that is, from my mother’s side—was an affluent family that lost everything. They had beautiful land—a large estate near Minsk—in a fertile valley. When my grandfather died, my mother was immediately sued by a debt collector for a debt that she knew nothing about. My mother swears that her father had never gone into debt, but the forged documents went all the way up to the superior court. The judges dismissed my mother’s claims because they were in bed with the fraudsters. As soon as my mother lost her land, the new train routes were announced and ran exactly through her estate, making the land much more valuable. My mom was left penniless and moved to Moscow, where she met my dad while he was on vacation. It took them years to get her a travel permit to Europe, but as soon as she crossed the border, she went to Mexico with my dad.”

“It seems like a happy ending after all.”

“Don’t be silly. My mother was affected all her life. She was constantly depressed and sad and often bitter that her stature had been robbed from her. It made for a strange environment in my home. She was the person who introduced me to painting and music. She needed to be in constant connection with a higher sense of existence—one even higher than the position she lost. Even so, her life was not an easy one.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Just remember, putting a stop to lies and deception in the courts is a great improvement to society,” Sergio stated with finality.

“I get it…”

“Your father can tell you more.”

The plane had reached its desired “safe” altitude. Peter got up and pushed the button that returned his seat to face Scott. The woman next to Peter did not turn her seat around. Sergio immediately stood up and spoke to her.

“Aren’t you going to join us?”

“I’m going to try to sleep. I don’t feel like traveling backward. Thanks, but no thanks. Is that okay with you, sir?” she asked Peter.

“No problem,” Peter replied and raised a partition that gave her more privacy.

“Your loss,” Sergio teased her.

“New Zealand, here we come,” Peter announced with a smile.

“Sergio was telling me about Russia and the old system of justice. Really interesting stuff,” Scott told his dad.

“AmEarth’s unification of the world has helped to free and uplift billions of people. Essential human rights have been guaranteed to peoples who lived in oppression for generations—centuries, even. I have recently been briefed on how necessary a central world government is for the survival of mankind and our planet.”

“By any means?” Scott asked.

“Certainly not, but AmEarth has mainly been peaceful. All of the European countries joined AmEarth as a block and were immensely powerful, so they did it without significant violence. I think that the unification of the planet has been the single most valuable result that the alien threat has yielded.”

“Maybe that was the—” Scott stopped himself, remembering the cautions from his father and Sergio. Everyone was listening.

“If mankind had not united in time, there would have been major threats to the population. It would have been damaging and hurtful, resulting in widespread chaos and famine, as well as major outbreaks of diseases,” Sergio added.

“I know that it sounds kooky, but think of it like this: If Earth is a living organism, and it could possibly die due to our misbehavior, then we should place its survival as our top priority. In the old days, we would not accept guilt for any man-made global threat because we didn’t trust that people far away would do their part to fix the problem.”

Peter was going into lecture mode. Scott could feel it. The four-hour trip became a short master class on the benefits of centralization. Scott thought of various questions, but held back from firing them. It was hard to talk openly with so many onlookers watching them. He bit his lip more than a few times, but kept nodding in agreement. When you catch a government lying, it is hard to swallow anything they say after that, even if the sum total is “good.” Four hours of hearing about the great deeds of AmEarth had made Scott numb to the benefits. He really just wanted to look for its flaws.

The captain came to speak with them again, and the turning of the seats ritual was reenacted for landing. Sergio and Scott looked out of the window at New Zealand on their right. It was a mostly green and lush landscape with pure white snow covering the peaks of its mountains. It was as beautiful an island as Scott had imagined. Within minutes, they had safely landed at Wellington International Airport amid huge A380s that made the FFs look like toys.

Before disembarking, Peter, Scott, and Sergio were given bulletproof vests. Sergio and Peter didn’t even flinch as they donned theirs, but Scott was a bit taken aback.

“Dad, after all the talk of how good AmEarth is, why do we need these?” Scott asked.

“New Zealand has just entered AmEarth, but most of its people have not. These are common-sense precautions, Scott. In a few years, you’ll be able to come here without any fear. It’ll be just as easy as traveling in Europe is now, but for today, we’d rather be careful,” Peter explained.

Peter was slightly annoyed by Scott’s attitude, but it seemed normal for a teenager to question and rebel. Peter was sure that Scott would outgrow this constant need to question, although his own curiosity had been integral to his rise within AmEarth. Wasn’t it enough that he had listened? What else did he want?

When the doors opened, a blaring heat they had not expected swiftly entered the cabin. Sergio smiled like a young child in a toy store and made satisfied sounds that left no doubt as to his approval of the heat and humidity. When they left the plane, something completely unexpected happened to Scott. Teenage girls were in the crowd, screaming at the top of their lungs; they held handwritten signs with Scott written all over them. He had become a global star as his images, shown during the campaign and the Columbia University event, circled the globe. Peter, Scott, and Sergio walked down a long red carpet that led to the reception committee, which included Prime Minister Robert Smith.

“I guess they like you, son,” Peter spoke out of the corner of his mouth.

“A politician is born,” Sergio added.

“You’re both crazy. This will pass,” Scott said, trying to hide his grin and blushing cheeks.

Prime Minister Smith shook hands with Peter and Sergio, as well as Scott.

“It seems you are quite the item with our Kiwi youth,” Robert said as he shook Scott’s hand.

The Secret Service detail stood inches away from the trio. Their attitude was all business and many AmEarth soldiers could be seen around the perimeter. At about one hundred paces, a short chain-link fence held the onlookers back. There were also bleachers behind it that held a few hundred other visitors. In the background, thousands more stood at the fence line. Sergio walked toward a spot at the fence, looking at nothing but a single woman who stood there staring straight at him. The security forces moved to stop him from wandering off, and Scott sensed his wish to depart, so he decided to go with Sergio, leaving Peter to chat with the PM and his entourage.

“Dad?” Scott called.

“Yes?” Peter said.

“Can Sergio and I go talk to the crowd?”

Peter saw that Sergio and his son were being held back by security forces, so he nodded his head, giving Sergio and Scott permission to go and greet those behind the fence. The security detail kept close by and they reached the fence quickly. Scott was cheered and girls moved to touch him as if he were a Windsor. Scott shook hands and greeted as many girls as his eyes could take in.

In the chaos of people’s cheers for Scott, Sergio stood motionless and largely ignored. Through the fence, he was holding Robbie’s hands, their fingers interlaced. Their foreheads touched through the cold metal and tears flowed from their eyes, streaming with happiness and sadness, but mostly love.

“You’re okay?” Robbie asked.

“Now I am,” Sergio answered breathlessly. “I never thought I’d see you again!”

“Are you married? Do you have children?” Robbie looked up at him pleadingly.

“No and no. Are you?”

“I’m divorced…”

Sergio was approached by a Secret Service agent from behind.

“Sir, we need you to stand back. For your safety,” the guard stated sternly. He noticed that something was happening as soon as he saw their faces.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, sir. Do you need me to clear her?”

“Yes, can you? Please. Clear her.”

The guard asked the people nearby to move back from the fence and motioned for Robbie to come toward him.

“Ma’am, are you alone?” the guard asked her as he looked her up and down.

“Yes, I came alone.”

The guard nodded and pushed up on the fence hinges to unlock two sections and pull her through. Then, he closed the sections and proceeded to search her with a wand device. No beeping was heard.

“You’re cleared, ma’am.”

Scott looked at what was happening and knew that the woman must be Robbie. He saw the moment when the guard cleared her and Sergio embraced her like she might disappear at any second. They had been apart for so long and seemed unable to separate. All along, AmEarth authorities had prevented this reunion, which felt like an injustice and a true tragedy.

“You received my message! I didn’t know if that old email address was still active. I’m so happy to see you. So you live alone? How are you? God, you’re just as beautiful as ever.” Sergio kissed her as he spoke.

“So many questions. I didn’t respond to your email…I’m sorry…later I’ll explain that. I don’t live alone. I have a daughter.”

“Really? I’d love to meet her.”

Robbie smiled.

“Why are you here? In New Zealand, I mean?”

“I’m traveling with Peter Johansen, welcoming New Zealand to AmEarth. I’ll explain why it took so many years for me to return, but not right now.”

“Okay. How long will you be here?”

“I don’t know yet. For now, this moment is enough. So, a daughter. She must be beautiful. How old is she?”

“Twenty-two.”

Sergio couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping. Twenty-three years had passed since he had last seen Robbie. But a daughter who was twenty-two…Could it be?

“Twenty-two? Is she…?” Sergio wasn’t able to finish the question.

“Yes, Sergio. She’s yours. She looks just like you. Her name is Marianne,” Robbie confessed with a huge smile.

Sergio was speechless, and the following moment felt like an eternity. Behind him, Peter walked toward them, followed by security. He lightly touched Sergio’s shoulder. Sergio was unresponsive to the touch; his mind was a million miles and years away.

“Are you going to introduce me?” Peter asked quietly in his ear.

Sergio looked at him dumbly, in shock. The feeling of blood rushing to his head made him drunk with happiness. Sergio cleared his throat and found his voice.

“Peter, this is Robbie Taylor. My friend from a long time ago,” Sergio explained. Scott had heard the entire conversation about Sergio’s daughter, but Peter was still out of the loop.

“Nice to meet you, Robbie,” Peter said as he shook her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. President,” Robbie answered, star-struck.

“Dad, Sergio and Robbie have a daughter!” Scott said, unable to keep the revelation to himself.

“Really? A daughter?” Peter asked, shock and happiness on his face.

“I just found out,” Sergio fumbled with his words, but the huge smile on his face told the story.

“When Sergio left New Zealand, I didn’t know that I was pregnant, and then he disappeared. I’ve been looking for him, but it was like the earth had swallowed him whole,” Robbie informed the trio of men.

“He’s been busy working for AmEarth in New York,” Peter told her.

“I know. But back then, I had no idea where he went. He was so opposed to that sort of work,” Robbie said.

“Why don’t we all go to the ambassador’s residence and settle in? Tomorrow I have an important speech to make, and I think that we all need to focus,” Peter said, trying to change the subject and move on.

“I’d like to meet her,” Sergio said, ignoring the president’s words.

“Absolutely. How about tonight?” Robbie suggested.

“Is she here in Wellington?”

“Yes.”

“Do you live here?”

“No. I have my parents’ old flat, though, so we use it when we come into town. We live in Westport, on the other island. Just a small fishing village.”

“You’re not at Weta?”

“No, I sold it when my dad died.”

“I’m sorry…I think,” Sergio said with a smirk.

“He really did hate you,” Robbie said and laughed.

“And your mom?”

“She passed away last year. She was too sad to live alone. Died of a broken heart.”

“I’m sorry, Robbie.”

The group began walking toward the main airport building. The prime minister joined them as they moved to the limousines that would take them to the house of the AmEarth ambassador, formerly the US ambassador’s residence. New Zealand felt like a tiny America, complete with small-scale buildings in its downtown area. It was like being in a small city of an industrial country with people mostly of English descent in buildings that belonged to some point in the past. The contrast was that these people were highly intelligent and lived mentally in the future. Some people did turn out to see the motorcade and Peter was keenly aware of the bulletproof glass that protected them.

Sergio couldn’t stop touching Robbie, holding both her hands and staring longingly at her. Scott thought that it was almost creepy, but couldn’t judge too much, as he knew they had been separated for longer than he’d been alive. The residence was a sprawling home in the best neighborhood of Wellington and sat behind tall walls; cameras were everywhere. The garden was manicured with a beautiful green lawn and flowerbeds all around it. The home was modern in a Frank Lloyd Wright imitation style that had been popular in the 1960s and dated back to that era. The use of steel and stone was quite beautiful, and made the flat roof of the living room appear to be floating over the home. Glass covered two sides and a stone wall composed the third, but the stone wall did not meet the roof because there were glass panels high above the wall, creating the optical illusion of a flying roof. Scott was totally oblivious to the architectural details, but Peter was not.

“I grew up in a house from this era, Scott,” Peter told his son.

“Bringing back any memories?”

“I’ll say. Good ones.”

That evening, Sergio left with Robbie to meet his daughter for the first time. Peter sent armed bodyguards to keep Sergio in one piece and he didn’t return to the ambassador’s residence until late that night.