Meanwhile, O yeah, the world's arid soon-to-be-irrigated land
was getting lotteried off to the poorest people on the planet. The
pictures of it were all over TV that week: pipelines, pumps and
reverse osmosis plants under construction, and the globe's destitute
receiving their deeds for property. There was another non-signer
surrendered too: Pakistan. Arnie and the WPF were pressing on.
Iraq, Iran, Syria, Myanmar and North Korea were being the most
stubborn, and Israel was keeping its military as long as Iraq, Syria
and Iran were. Cuba had given in, Fidel no crash test dummy (and
still farking alive! Kind of like Jaggar and Richards: how do they do
it?). It was a good week. The good guys were absolutely, definitely,
totally amazingly in charge.
        Monument Valley was going strong. The concerts elsewhere
had closed down after the big weekend. But the Valley was going to
go on as long as enough people wanted to come and hear it and, the
way it was looking, it would go until the weather got too cold. The
harassment by authorities was gone, and the chem was flowing. And
Jessy got an invitation to play! The Musicians Council had tracked
down her e-mail address and she sent back her commitment for the
next Saturday night.
        So they were all excited, the family too, and Jess called Flee,
then Julio, Buz, Jasmine and Sage to ask them all to show up at
Truchas as soon as they could. The big gig was on! And all the ones
there traveling with Jess and Kit went out to buy more instruments so
they could start practicing up right away.
        The financial markets, by the way, were all up over 3o percent
since Paris and the word was out for everyone to calm down and
spend some time with the family or others. Our guys had made over
$25 million that week. The space contracts were getting let, the space
station would be up in half the time previously figured and additions
were being planned. New shuttles were already started on the
production line at Rockwell, and new space vehicle and planet
development design projects were being launched. The countries
were enjoying their first week's savings from no defense
expenditures, plus proceeds from the weapons recycling, so leaders
were debating how best to use the new surpluses. And the wars were
gone. And that was being said very softly everywhere. There was no
war.
        The Serbs had lost their power. The "ethnic cleansing" had
been stopped and those victims given aid. The Islamic world was
starting to see a different future. Africa was becoming de-starved and
de-slaved. China, revitalized under Hua, had given Tibet back. It was
a different world celebrating the end of that first week. It was mighty
"ecomonics" (a word that Kit had invented in the late '70's, meaning
"out of togetherness, one"). And the ecomonic prognostics were
wailing away on the TV talkies and in the papers and on talky radio
and in the bars, workplaces, stores and homes and over the phones
and computers and at the parties and functions. The future was
golden, everyone was agreeing.
        "Something's going to go wrong," Kit mumbled a few times to
Jess that Friday, remembering Maria's admonition from a while ago
out on the veranda at home.
        "O honey...I remember..." Jess answered, with reverence for
the memory of Ria and her reason for the warning. "But, maybe
everything will just be fine...ya know?"
        "I sure hope so, precious...God I sure hope so...."
        Puter was still showing them clean screens. No suits. No "DC"
or "Cincy" complications. No agencies. No black ops. But that
seemed too spooky.
        They had a long goodby party at the farm, then stoked up the
jets and headed for Naples, Florida. Not the best timing - late July -
but it was time for Kit's Mom to see her boy again. At least it wasn't
peak "hurry-the-cane" season, but it was surely the salty sultry soaky
deep heat.
        "O my Lord! You're so young!" Norma kept saying to Jess, so
happy, though, to see her youngest boy with THEE most beautiful
girl in the world. And such a heroine! Normy asked where was
Felecia, remembering quite well despite her age, and told them that
she had been kind of curious about those arrangements, but made no
judgements. She was really impressed with all the guys, and just
thrilled to max to see Joshua and meet Kenja, and was more than
pleased to give her blessing to them. She was still quite the hostest at
her 86 years.
        They drove on down and out to Marco Island to party down on
sister Jane's and brother-in-law Dave's 56-foot cruiser. Pretty nice.
And the sibs were impressed how ole Br'er Kit had turned out. A real
credit to the family. Finally.
        Our guys bought a huge trimaran sailboat there at the island and
stayed on that for the rest of the weekend. And, after clearing it with
Jane and Dave, left it for niece Kate to lease out for her own pocket
in exchange for taking care of it. Then they gave their loving adioses
to Norm and everyone and jetted on to Santa Fe.

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