The Feminist Queendom. Charlie’s War 27 © to Beverly Taff.

List of Characters.

Charlie Sage Maths and electronics genius.
Shirley Sage Charlies elderly mother
Chloe Charlie’s one time early school friend.
Josephine Flint Surgeon and associate of Chloe’s.
Mrs Jane Anston Director of Anston Aerospace.
Ronnie Garage mechanic at top of lane
Pauline Garage owner, Ronnie’s sister.
Briony Pauline’s teenaged daughter.
Billy Pauline’s middle son.
Abigail (Abby) Pauline’s youngest daughter.
‘Poppy’ Charlie’s little micro-runabout.
‘Doris’ The armoured mobile home.
‘Lady’ Chloe’s Sports Car.
Dawn Charlie’s armoured spaceship.
Colonel Wilson Vindictive misanthropist doctor.

Chapter 27.

“He’s a clever bastard!” Colonel Wilson cursed as he read the latest intelligence reports.

“Could have told you that fifteen years ago Colonel!” Lady Jane Anston concurred. “But these moon-writing stunts have shown him to be a really cunning bastard as well.”

“Yeah! He’s tapped into a deep vein of paranoia, “you should read what this psychiatrist reports.”

“I have, did you mean the piece where she explains the collective insecurities of nations when their political situations are based upon ignorance and collective impotence.”

“The less they know, the more they panic.”

“Worse than that; - the less they’re educated, the more reactionary and uncontrollable they become.” Jane finished with a curse. “There’s bloody riots all over the world and nobody believes a word any government says. If there’s writing on the moon, then millions are convinced it’s God or aliens or some such lunacy and everybody’s expecting little green fucking men to pop up at any bloody moment. It’s a shambles and civil government is utterly impossible. Fuck me he’s been clever.”

“Yeah, and here we are stuck in the only country not under martial law. Ironic, isn’t it?”

“Well, it means we’re free to travel with few restrictions, but I’ve learned from the Prime Minister that Chloe Evans is now under an armed protection squad at all times, - as are her kids. She can work and move about freely, but woe betide anybody who tries to kidnap her for ransom or harm her kids.

“Is she still in touch with Charlie?”

“Certainly. The moon messages confirm that.”

“That was a bloody evil stunt, fucking brilliant and perfectly timed.” The Colonel cursed.

“Amen to that, so tell me colonel; how do we reach Chloe Sage now?”

“The only way I can see is to infiltrate her guards with some of our own.”

“Go on,” Jane pressed, “have we got a squad of girls with Aussie accents?”

“Well, a submarine perhaps; with a squad of SBS then lay an ambush for when she’s at home or out shopping or something. Her house is well back from the mining road. A well organised attack on the house then we take her somewhere so that we can bargain. Back to the submarine even, then back to the UQ.”

“You’re crazy,” Jane Anston gasped. “Can you imagine the kick-back. Can you imagine what Charlie Sage might do if you endanger their children. Both of them have made it abundantly obvious that caring for their children is the whole reason for their having married. Damage that link, or just endanger it and there’s no knowing what the man might do.”

“To do anything, he’s got to come back to earth.”

“And do what? Are you prepared to face a space-craft that is strong enough to rip up rocks and write in the rubble?”

“It only takes an anti-tank missile, to penetrate the skin.”

“While the ‘skin’ – as you call it, is travelling faster than the missile!”

“Can you think of anything better?” Colonel Wilson demanded.

Jane smiled disarmingly.

“We could try talking, - you know; negotiating.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Yeah, well jaw-jaw is better than war-war. Let’s approach the Australian government. Australia seems to be Charlie’s favoured option.”

Colonel Wilson rankled slightly when Lady Jane still referred to the enemy by his first name. She began to wonder if Jane was wholly on the side of the UQ. Charlie Sage had unintentionally succeeded in one of the most primary objectives of any combatant; - divide and rule; - and that at an unknown distance. Reluctantly, Colonel Wilson accompanied Lady Jane to a second meeting with the Australian defence minister.

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“I’m sorry, the answer to that is a very definite no! If he’s apprehended on these shores he will definitely not be extradited to a foreign country.”

“But he’s still a UQ citizen, and he’s still contracted to Anston Aerospace.”

“Yes. Now about that contract. His wife Chloe has managed to locate an electronic copy of that so-called contract from way back when Mr Sage was first noticed as something of a maverick genius in your own workshops back in the UQ.

When our lawyers got to look at it, they drove a coach and horses through it.

We accept that UQ laws are somewhat less liberal than our own but this, (The minister snatched the first page off her desk printer as it dropped into the tray.) this is downright disgraceful! It goes in clear breach of human rights.”

“Well can we at least continue to try and persuade Chloe Sage to contact him on our behalf?”

“We have never prevented you but just remember he can write his answers on the biggest noticeboard of all, and NOBODY can erase them. You’ve seen the damage he’s caused already.”

“Just so long as we can talk to her, I think we might reach some sort of agreement,” Jane Anston offered.

“No agreement that you or Anston Aerospace reach, will be accepted by the Australian cabinet unless firstly we are present during discussions and signatory to the agreement.”

“That’s too harsh.” Jane protested.

“That’s reality,” the defence minister replied bluntly, “the feminista culture is losing ground in Australia and I for one, thoroughly support that trend.”

Jane Anston squinted suspiciously as she cautioned the minister.

“That’s a view that could cause you a lot of grief politically.”

“Somehow Lady Anston, I’m beginning to think it won’t. Like all politicians, I keep my ear to the ground and your words are beginning to sound hollow. Even in the parliament I’m beginning to hear rumblings of discontent.”

“How so?” Colonel Wilson asked.

“It’s well known that I am a feminised individual so, whether I like it or not, I end up being a touchstone for many conductors of discontent because I’m a high-ranking government minister. Seemingly, there are a growing number of female malcontents who are beginning to understand the Sage equations concerning inbreeding and dumbing down. These are the intelligent women mind; the ones who are the doers, makers and shakers.”

Both Lady Jane and Colonel Wilson suddenly realised that the defence minister was talking serious ‘turkey’, so Colonel Wilson double checked.

“Does your Prime Minister know about this?”

The defence minister grinned disarmingly as she sensed the barely concealed menace in the colonel’s question.

“You bet she does colonel! She’s got three sons and the oldest one is coming up to the feminista separation age this very year. She’s not too happy about it. I’ve never met the boy but apparently, he’s very bright and neither he nor his mother are happy about his forthcoming feminisation; - that is if the child is to enjoy some sort of decent standard of living.”

“How would you know that?” Lady Anston demanded.

The defence minister stared stupidly at her.

“I’m a feminised man myself, who else would the Prime Minister ask except a close confidant who has walked the bloody walk. Thanks to feminisation; I can’t have children!!! She at least, has the nouse to grasp that! She’s got three sons and if the feminista juggernaut keeps smashing through people’s hopes, she will not have any grandchildren, let alone intelligent ones! Here in Australia, we need population growth and that means families; intelligent families!”

“So why don’t you lower the immigration criteria.”

“Australia learned it’s lessons from the last waves of immigration just before the great transition. Too many religious fanatics brought in huge problems, and it was only after the gender wars that we managed to create a safe society for women. We had to do the same as other countries, but the shortage of men meant they had a nominally higher value than more populated countries. Consequently, they were allowed to live curfew free in the outback and only enter urban areas during daylight hours. We managed to hold onto some semblance of sanity.”

Jane Anston ventured a question.

“Tell me Minister, does Australia plan to go back to Darwinism?”

“You make that sound like some sort of medieval regression.”

“If you let men take control again, all that women have accomplished will be for nothing.”

“Now you’re just spouting feminista cant and propaganda. There’s education enough to create a more balanced and harmonious society, at least enough to get us back to a fairer society. Well, in Australia at least.

Anyway, let’s get back to your reasons for meeting with Doctor Chloe Evans and hopefully making contact with Mr Sage.”

Lady Jane Anston’s patience was wearing thin. She knew that whoever persuaded Charlie Sage to release his secrets, would become the superpower of the future. That was the elephant-in-the-room. The defence minister also knew this as did every government on Earth. The Minister put it bluntly as she re-iterated the Australian argument.

“If we are to try and use Doctor Evans to persuade her husband to come to the negotiating table then we will be prepared to offer you terms of access. In no circumstances will we allow you to take Mr Sage back to the UQ, against his will.”

“We’ve no choice but to accept those terms, have we?”

“Frankly, no.” The defence minister finished. “Now, it’s matter of contacting Doctor Evans again and we’ll thank you to leave this to us.”

Jane Anston bit her tongue while Colonel Wilson fumed yet again as the defence minister dialled her phone. Minutes later Chloe was discussing options with both the Prime Minister and the defence minister while simultaneously talking to her husband via a communal radio call from an unknown location that could not have been the moon.

Lady Aston had realised this because there was no time lag between questions and answers. She confirmed this during her very first question by asking.

“Where are you now Mr Sage?”

“I’m loitering in a geostationary position about twenty thousand miles above the south pole.”

“So, you’re not on the moon at the moment?”

“No.”

“Do you intend returning to Earth?”

“If my conditions concerning my family and me are met; I’ll consider it.”

“And what are those conditions?”

“I would have thought that to be pretty obvious by now. Simply put; it’s equality for all; meaningful equality.”

“We can only speak for Australia Mr Sage,” the Prime Minister replied.

“That’s a start Prime Minister. Do I have your government’s permission to return and land in Australia; and do you promise not to arrest me?”

“Of course, your wife Doctor Evans has presented your immigration application and it has been provisionally accepted. You’ve obviously been in physical contact with your wife to have signed the forms.”

“Yes. We met over the Antarctic Ocean two hundred miles off the Great Australian Bight, her car landed inside my ship, and we then landed jointly in Antarctica.”

“Have you ever been to Australia?”

“Yes, several times, just as a visiting yachtsman would.”

“But you did not register with immigration at a port of entry’”

“There was no port of entry in the middle of the outback. I landed in a virtual desert.”

“Nevertheless, you should have registered with immigration.”

“I am a man! I didn’t deem it safe. Will it be safe if I accept your invitation?”

“Yes!”

“Very well, give my wife a written promise of your parole and I’ll be prepared to meet.”

“Would you be prepared to meet anybody else.” The defence minister asked.

“Like whom?” Charlie asked suspiciously.”

“Lady Jane Anston of Anston Aerospace and Colonel Wilson; both are from the UQ.

“Lady Jane, possibly, Colonel Wilson; definitely not!”

The Prime minister and her cabinet colleague sagged back in their chairs with relief. It had all been so easy and it demonstrated that Charlie Sage was prepared, at last, to discuss terms. The defence minister in company with the Prime Minister, was relieved to have made their first direct contact since Charlie had revealed himself to be on the moon. Before that they had never even known about him.

As Chloe closed down her radio, she turned to Lady Anston and the ministers.

“So; ladies. If my husband is to meet with you, I of course will be there to give him support and it will definitely be on neutral territory. That will have to be somewhere in Antarctica. Charlie goes there a lot. Now these are my conditions.
We all four travel in my car to rendezvous with Charlie over the Southern Ocean. He and I have met this way many times to keep our liaisons secret and it’s perfectly safe. I hover out over the waves with the antigrav in my car, and we rendezvous at a pre-arranged location.

Charlie’s spaceship can just about accommodate my car in the non- pressurised cargo bay and then we join him in the pressurised cabin. He then flies to any secret location or alternatively, we do the deal in the cabin of his ship; - or more correctly, our ship. We are after all, husband and wife.

During the time we are negotiating, you will provide a safe, armed guard for our children. Will you agree to those terms?”

Both ministers and Lady Jane nodded fervently, for apart from the enormous political portent to be gained from such a coupe; there was the added visceral thrill of being offered a ride in a genuine interplanetary spaceship. Chloe smiled inwardly as she recognised the almost childish excitement shared by three adult women.

The following Saturday morning, the Prime Minister and her defence minister joined the managing director of Anston Aerospace apparently dressed to play golf. Instead, they disappeared into the outback
Some hours later they met Doctor Chloe Evans in her modified car with its superior antigrav drive and in a couple more hours the foursome connected up with a UFO, somewhere over the Antarctic seas.

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