Backscatter

Megan felt a brief pang of guilt. "If you only knew," she thought. She cleared her throat. "Well, I can say we have the power to make as much metal as we want. We don't have to mine the Earth for metals or... fuel for fires. One day perhaps the whole world will have this power."

"Given by you?"

"Taught by us. Then we will all be equals in ability. But there is so much that has to change first. All the warfare is terrible, but it's keeping the population stable. How can we teach people our knowledge without a runaway growth of people? How can we get people to push away their desire to dominate? Ten generations from now Hannibal, why should you or I care whether it's our children or our neighbor's children who are playing in the streets? Why should we care?"

"What?"

Megan took a deep breath and continued. "That's the challenge we're facing. How do we get rid of clans and tribalism? I don't mean getting rid of families or cultures. I'm talking about ridding the world of the dark human desire to dominate."

Hannibal was silent and then nodded slowly. "I think I understand you, at least in part. Our children playing with each other? Have you stopped worrying then about Resheph?"

"Plagues? Well, we've done a lot of screening these last two years, trying to find people who might carry diseases to you. We can't stay isolated from each other forever. Sooner or later we'll begin to mix."

"And then spread the wrath of Resheph?"

Megan shrugged. "We think we can stop the major sicknesses from spreading. As for the rest, it's a part of life. We can't stay apart forever."

A sudden thought occurred to Hannibal. "Did Madeira suffer from his great rage too?"

Megan nodded. "Yes, the great plague that hit you, it hit us earlier, almost twenty years ago."

Hannibal blinked. "Ah. I see. So Resheph's rage started here."

"In a sense, yes."

"In a sense? Was it you who made Resheph angry?"

A long hesitation. "I'm sorry. I can't be more specific." She yawned.

A sudden thought occurred to Hannibal. "Megan, do you... does Madeira have the power to make Resheph angry, but have his rage fall only on their enemies?"

Megan frowned as she thought of her old timeline's terrible history with biological warfare. "I guess we do."

"So you don't need to share the world with us. You could stop future wars by having one final war now. You have the power to eliminate everyone outside of Madeira, don't you?"

"A war to end all wars? That idea has been tried before. It doesn't work. We have a name for the horror. We call it genocide," she said, using the Portuguese word. "Sometimes I think there might be a few monsters in Congress who dream of it happening, but they're too embarrassed to speak of it." Megan shuddered at the concept. "Hannibal, I know your name means Grace of Baal. We have a similar concept with our religion, that we are all children created in grace by a God who is great without measure. For us to slaughter all the other people on Earth, just to keep Earth for ourselves..."

"You could do this?"

"I'm not sure. I'm ashamed to think that we probably could. But we would become monsters if we did, throwing away all our inheritance of God's grace. We would no longer belong to our God, and He would no longer own us. And with an empty Earth, we could live wherever we wanted." Megan closed her eyes, feeling sad and worn out. "But we would have no place to be."

Hannibal looked at Megan closely and finally realized how sleepy she was. "One or two more questions? I know you're very tired."

"Okay. Two."

"Thank you. Your writing, your Portuguese, it has so many similarities to the new Phoenician script. I am at a loss to understand this. Why would Madeirans with godlike powers adopt the script of simple Phoenicia? I know what primitive savages we must seem to you."

Megan gulped, realizing the ancient Canaanite priesthood was the original inventor of much of her modern alphabet. "You have a fine mind to see this Hannibal, but I can't answer your question."

Hannibal was puzzled. After getting such detailed information on military capabilities, he had been expecting an answer. "What do you mean? You can't tell me because you don't know, or you can't tell me because you can't tell me?"

She grinned. "The latter."

"Ah. Okay. My last question then, another great puzzle to me. Megan, how long have the Madeirans had their godlike powers? I'm guessing many millennia."

Megan thought for a while. "I'm not sure I know how to answer that."

"Well, how long has it been since Madeirans used only sails and oars for their boats? How long have you had your magical flying abilities, the demons that pull your boats with invisible ropes or stir the water at the sterns?"

"Ah, I get you now. We call our stirring demons propellers. Three hundred years I guess, less. Go back more than two hundred years, and there would be nothing about our boats you couldn't understand. We were using sailboats, maybe sails a bit more complicated than what you're used to, but nothing you wouldn't be able to figure out."

Hannibal looked at her totally exasperated. "So short a time? Truly?"

"Yes."

"But why didn't you explore, find us and trade with us hundreds of years ago? I think the Egyptians have kept records for thousands of years, yet they never saw one of your sailboats. How could you resist exploring and finding us in the time when you were like us?"

Megan sat there stunned. "My gosh Hannibal. That's really brilliant insight. I can't tell you the answer, and again the reason why is the latter."

Hannibal's frustration was obvious. "Pity. The mystery vexes me."

"Yes, it would vex me too." Megan stood up and stretched. "I'll try to get permission to tell you more, I promise."

"Thank you." Hannibal sighed. "Ten generations of children? It's so amazing to think of it Megan. Can we do this, end all wars? It would be so interesting to see the ten generations, see what fruit grows from the seeds Madeira has planted in Phoenicia."

"It would indeed." She yawned again and offered him her hand. "Goodnight my friend. We both need some rest." They held hands for a moment, expressing their affection for each other, and then Megan headed home. Hannibal shrugged off all his concerns and was soon fast asleep.

Chapter 19. First Samuel

Early next morning, three hours before sunrise

Time: Saturday, May 8, 2055 2:14 AM

Alvaro came home very late. He was too tired for a shower, so he just washed his face, brushed his teeth, threw off his clothes and climbed into bed with Megan. She stirred and turned and began petting his head.

Alvaro kissed a finger as it caressed his lip. "You're not asleep?"

"Oh, off and on... I'm okay. You look exhausted. How did it go?"

Alvaro paused for a second and then gave a quick nervous frown. "I think we have a compromise with the Isolationists that might work. We'll find out tomorrow."

Megan's eyes opened wide in the darkness. "Yikes. I was hoping for something a little more optimistic than that." Her hand dropped and slowly stroked his nipples.

"Yeah, well, we weren't the only ones up late tonight. I think our loyal opposition is still debating how they want to handle this..." He paused for a tired yawn. "We did get one issue resolved. Captain Silva will not be reprimanded for his actions today."

"What?! For saving my life?"

"No, not that. Everybody agrees the morning response was appropriate. I'm talking about the afternoon incident. Captain Silva killed another sixty of the royal guard and there were no Madeiran lives at risk at the time."

Megan frowned. "Oh hell..."

"President Philippe came to our rescue, said his rules of engagement allowed Captain Silva to make that kind of tactical decision..." Her husband gave a long, drawn-out sigh.

"Hey, Alvaro," whispered Megan. "You okay?"

"Oh, I..." There was a long pregnant pause, and then Alvaro whispered, "Oh Megan, sometimes I long for the days when my chief job was physicist."

Megan said nothing for a while, then reached over and hugged her husband. "You're doing brilliantly as a Congressman sweetie, and I'm not trying to stroke your ego. I really mean it."

Her husband leaned slightly and butted and then caressed her cheek with his nose. "The Isolationists were making much of today's poll. Sixty-one percent of Madeirans thinks we should be completely neutral in Phoenicia, leave completely, not even be there, sixty-one percent!"

"Oh..."

"I went and checked the results. It's true. For Porto Santo, the number's almost seventy percent."

"Shit... What are people thinking of?"

"A number of the Isolationists cornered me for a while, saying I had a responsibility to represent the will of my district. Seventy percent! Damn it Megan, they have a point..."

Megan shook her head excitedly. "Hell, was it Churchill? It's better to do what is right than do what is easy. Something like that anyway. Alvaro, we both know we can't rely forever on our technology. Becoming an Isolationist, putting off our moral responsibility by saying it's the will of the people, that's taking the easy way out."

Alvaro grimaced in the dim light. "It's not that simple. Dear God, how I wish it were. I long for the days when my problems were in physics. Everything was a great wonderful puzzle. Everything was so bright and clean."

Megan looked at her husband with a puzzled look. "Clean?"

"Yeah. In physics, the opposite of truth is contradiction and paradox. You can recognize truth in mathematics by how it interlocks with other truths. But in politics, in morality, the opposite of a profound truth is often another profound truth. It can be so damn confusing sometimes..."

"Well, that's why you're such a good Congressman. You recognize this. You negotiate, compromise. Really Alvaro, people have an enormous amount of respect for your decisions..."

"You're very sweet."

"Not sweet, I'm right. Seriously Alvaro, our cause is just, and our means are just. There's nothing you've ever done that I'm not proud of. You are my hero as well as my husband."

His eyes almost shut, Alvaro gave a small laugh. "Oh, be careful not to jack up my pedestal too high..." He gave a deep yawn. "Wow. I'm so sleepy..."

Megan gazed in love at her tired husband. "Here, close your eyes. Let me pet you." She propped herself up and petted him very gently, soft hands at his face stroking his cheeks. "That's right. Just rest darling."

Alvaro wanted to say something more but too exhausted to speak. Megan's hand dropped again to pet his stomach and abdomen, gently stroking his fur. Alvaro finally relaxed under the loving caresses. He purred and sighed. "Hmm. That feels nice."

Megan started giving light, feathery kisses all over his body. "My husband, how I love you..."

Alvaro relaxed completely under his wife's caresses, sighing in contentment and spreading his legs as her hand came to his groin. He felt soft, feathery pulls on his penis. He sighed deeply and floated in the pleasure, slowly becoming erect and falling asleep, both at the same time. And then the soft fingers left his cock and dropped to fondle his scrotum. "Hmm," he mumbled. He tried to tell Megan how much he loved her back but couldn't.

Megan sat up and turned. "Shhh..." She began probing his scrotal sac with one hand and bringing his erection over to her mouth with the other. Her mouth descended and gave small, catlike licks to the head of the penis, very gentle. Alvaro sighed again in contentment.

There. Her fingers had found what they were searching for, the tubular spermatic cords connecting his testes to the roof of his scrotal sac. She used her skills as a doctor, pressing her fingers inward and upward until the delicate ducts were lying pressed against the pads of her fingertips. With this intimate connection to Alvaro's sex organ, Megan had superb feedback on the state of his arousal and could guide him wherever she wished.

More laps on the penis head, wetter this time, and then her lips suckled him into her mouth, locking him into the coupling with teeth behind the ridge of his glans. It was an oral embrace of pure pleasure and raw sexuality, but there was no hip thrusting in return from her husband. His deep breathing told her he was more asleep than awake, and she could feel his slow heartbeat on her fingers buried in his sac. She could also feel the dichotomy within his body, his relaxed muscles and the erect tension in his penis and sac. His testes were becoming tighter and eager to release their seed. She fondled the undersides of the orbs, teasing them to delay their ejaculations.

Alvaro began to pant in his sleep, his sleeping mind and aroused body driven back to the wet dreams of his puberty. Megan waited until she felt Alvaro take a deep breath and shudder, and then with her fingers still pressing against his male ducts, she allowed the testes to lift into their ejaculatory position. She dropped a generous wad a spit on the penis head within her mouth, making it super warm and moist and slick, and then began a suckling motion, firmly working the sensitive skin with her lips and tongue.

There was a deep groan from Alvaro, and then Megan felt the first pulse inside her husband's sac as he started to orgasm. She could feel his semen flowing against her fingertips inside his tubes, imagine it flowing through his ducts and up the rigid penis. Megan felt his male organ spasm inside her mouth, and then she tasted the generous deposit Alvaro started to give her. Megan had done this before. In her mind she called it a slip fuck. She could slip an orgasm right out of Alvaro's sleeping body without waking him.

She drained him, maintaining the wet lip contact with his glans, stimulating him to flow, drinking him and suckling until at last the orgasm ended, his testes drained and relaxing limply against her fingers. She lapped and swallowed everything, licking the penis head clean as she felt the erectile tissue begin to soften within her mouth.

Megan finally broke her oral lock as the penis wilted. She allowed it to flop to the side. Her mouth descended one last time, sweet kisses of goodbye to the spent orbs hanging loosely in the sac. She pulled a sheet over both of them and curled up with her husband, his arm around her waist and her rump pressed against his groin, joining him in his sexual contentment. Alvaro stirred only once, his hand coming up to cup a warm breast. Megan fell asleep in total peace.

Two weeks later.

Aboard the M.N.S. Urushalim Express, coordinates 33 degrees 34 minutes North, 35 degrees 42 minutes East

Time: Saturday, May 22, 2055 1:30 AM UMT

Ensign Megan Lopes came up on the port deck a few minutes before sunrise. The enemy hilltops four kilometers to the west were already catching the first rays of the morning. She took a second to admire the view and then walked to the starboard entrance area to welcome the ship's visitors. Their rowboat was less than three hundred meters away.

Urushalim Express was anchored 600 meters from the eastern shore of a modest lake 840 meters above sea level and thirty kilometers due east of Sidon. The ship's location in another timeline was called Al Qirawn, a beautiful and isolated mountain lake roughly two by five kilometers in size. The large deep-sea merchant ship looked ridiculously out of place, an apparent prisoner in its tiny new home, and it was only through the use of dark power that it was able to reach the lake. It had flown here above the high mountains on a cloudy night thirteen days ago.

The ship's presence was a complete bluff. Captain Silva was under clear orders not to engage any force that was not attacking Madeiran personnel. But so far the bluff had worked. Hannibal's forces were on the eastern side of the lake and King Ethbaal's army to the west, separated by the armed merchant ship and two kilometers of water. Both sides were eyeing each other warily but had not engaged.

As the morning sunlight lit the lake, Hannibal and his two cousins and three other Phoenicians stepped on board. Megan smiled at her friend and gestured to his arm. "Today's the big day. The ship's infirmary will be all ready for you after the meeting."

Hannibal glanced at his cast and gave her a brief return smile and nodded. "It's coming off just in time. You'll learn why at the meeting." A few minutes later eleven people were gathered below decks in the ship's situation room. Two walls had numerous displays of the surrounding area, showing the real-time positions of both the opposing armies. The views had proven invaluable to Hannibal and his army commanders over the last two weeks, and they sat silently studying the screens while they waited for Captain Silva to arrive. He had a habit of arriving ten minutes late to give the Phoenicians time to study the displays.

After a few minutes, Hannibal thought he saw all he needed to know and leaned back in his chair and studied the room. Four women! He had been working with these people for two years now, and still couldn't get over the utter lack of gender roles among the Madeirans. At least Captain Silva was male, but a full half of the hundred crew of Urushalim Express was not.

Hannibal had briefly been on Discovery over a year ago before Urushalim Express was launched. He had observed the same situation, had even met the female Captain Mendes. "A woman in charge of such a great warship?! Incredible! She certainly seemed competent though..." Hannibal sighed and thought. "But what would it be like for a man to serve under a woman? How can the Madeiran men tolerate this?"

Hannibal had once asked Megan if all Madeiran ships had such a large complement of female crew. She replied that their fishing boats were probably mostly men, but even they had women who were fully accepted crewmembers. Megan also told Hannibal that Urushalim Express had a sister ship called Cosmic Azores with a half women crew. That ship was providing cargo transport to other Madeiran islands Hannibal had not seen. He asked Megan what the other ship's name meant. She just smiled and said it was a sort of private joke. Explaining how the ship was powered by cosmic dark energy would have been exceedingly difficult.

Megan studied the displays as she waited for Captain Silva to arrive. Both sides had mobilized their populations. Almost every adult male citizen capable of fighting was in one of the two armies. The only exceptions were the deep sea traders who were currently outside the country. Megan thought it was difficult to see if either side had a clear advantage.

Numerically King Ethbaal held a three to one advantage with his army, 5700 men compared to Hannibal's 1900, and the king's army had all the career soldiers. But the king had to maintain a show of force against a massed Philistine army south of Tyre, while Hannibal had negotiated a temporary non-aggression treaty with the Aramaeans to his east.

And the issue of slavery was a nightmare to King Ethbaal. In addition to his army, Hannibal had over a thousand newly freed slaves who were doing everything they could to support him including training for warfare, while the slaves at the coastal cities were seizing every opportunity to make trouble for Ethbaal. And supplying his troops with adequate food over the mountains was proving to be very difficult, while Hannibal had the fertile farms of the Baka valley to the north behind his troops.

There was also the issue of moral. Hannibal's proclamation to free all the slaves in Phoenicia had cost him a few defections to Ethbaal's side, but that loss appeared to be over and every night men and escaped slaves were coming over and joining Hannibal. Time was on Hannibal's side, as was the intimidating presence of Urushalim Express. Both sides knew the king could not withstand the gods' firepower. Fortunately there were only six Phoenicians who knew it was all a bluff, and they were all here in the situation room.